Page 48 of Blood and Thorns

This is all your fault.

I now understood she had severe depressive episodes, but as an eight-year-old I couldn’t understand why Mum didn’t want to play with me anymore. Then she wouldn’t cook or clean for extended periods of time. She’d argue with Dad all night and then ignore me all day when he was either working, or gambling away what little money we had.

“You can’t pick your family,” Chip muttered, moving his bishop to take out my pawn.

My smile was forced. “I guess not.”

“So, how long do you plan to be here?”

I moved another chess piece, not really paying attention. “I don’t know,” I said carefully, not sure how much to share. For all I knew, Sebastian regularly kept women here to pay off their father’s debts. “Until I’m told to leave, I suppose.”

“You think you’ll be able to leave?”

I flinched at his words, looking up to find Chip watching me once more. There hadn’t been any hostility in his voice, and he looked almost fascinated by my reaction.

You think he could keep me?I wanted to say, knowing once the debt was paid, I’d fight until my last breath to be free.

“Well,” I began, trying to make light of the situation, “I’m sure I’ll die of boredom then. I’ve already finished my book, and it’s not like I can casually leave to get a new one.”

Chipcontinued to watch me, not even sparing the board a single glance as he made his moves. “I’ll bring you some new books,” he said after a few minutes of silence. “Let me know what you want, and I’ll sort it.”

My grin stretched, and his returning smile was cute. “Seriously? Thanks. Being left alone with my thoughts can be dangerous.”

Chip finally looked down. “Checkmate.”

I blinked, realising he’d tricked me into giving up my king. “How?” I flicked over the piece, shaking my head to find him grinning, leaning back in his chair. “That’s bullshit. I thought I had you.”

I didn’t, but he didn’t know that.

Chip began to reset the board, standing slightly to reach across. The movement opened his jacket, revealing a pistol on his hip. He followed my gaze. “Don’t be nervous. I’m armed so I can protect the penthouse.”

“Why would the penthouse need protecting?” I wondered.

Chip shrugged, moving his first pawn for the second game. “Mr Devereaux has many enemies.”

My brows furrowed. “What exactly do you do for Sebastian again?”

His smile was friendly, but there was an edge to his gaze that I couldn’t put my finger on. “Anything I’m asked.”

I lost three times in a row.

I was almost thankful when Chip excused himself, because then I could deal with what was left of my self-esteem.

I didn’t ask him for details on what he actually did for Sebastian, especially considering the red specs on his collar had definitely been blood. I realised I didn’t want to know, happy in my ignorance.

My hands ached from how hard I gripped the pen, the words flowing across my notebook as I poured my thoughts onto the page. I was running out of space, so I kept my handwriting small and using as much of the page as possible. It didn’t matter if it was neat, or even legible. No one was going to read it anyway.

The lift dinged, and standing, I leaned over the banister to gaze at the living room below. Caden stepped out, followed by a shorter woman with sunshine blonde hair.

“Come down,” he demanded, and clearly, he was my number one fan because his glare could cut glass.

The brat in me wanted to ignore him just because it was the only thing within my control, but I was curious about the woman with the soft smile. She clutched a large suitcase, and even though Caden tried more than once to take it from her, she casually turned away with a tut.

“Hi, you must be Arabella,” she greeted after I descended the spiral stairs, her smile widening. “I’m Elena.”

“Ara,” I said, stopping a few steps away.

“Can you show me to your bedroom?” she asked, clearly struggling with the weight of the suitcase but refusing to let Caden help, much to his increasing distress. “I think you’ll prefer this if we had more privacy.”