Page 54 of Blood and Thorns

Placing the brush on the sink, I wiped a hand across the misty mirror—and then jumped at the reflection. “Chip?” I turned, my heart thundering against the inside of my ribs.

Chip stood in the doorway, three books stacked in his arms.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said calmly.

“How long have you been standing there?” I eyed the books, tugging the towel tighter around me. “I didn’t expect–”

“What were you thinking about?” he interrupted,closing his distance and tilting his head. “You were frowning.”

“Frowning? Oh, I was thinking about my dad.”

Chip held the books tighter to his chest, brows drawing together. “Why?” He wasn’t wearing the same suit as earlier but was still more dressed than I was.

“Chip, I’m in a towel, and how did you even get up here anyway? I thought the lift was locked?” He hadn’t looked at my half nakedness even once, which was good because this could’ve been alotmore awkward.

“Don’t worry, I have my ways.” He gestured to the books. “So, why the sign language?”

I glanced at the books. I’d only asked for one, but he’d brought me three. “I don’t know how long I’m going to be here for, so I thought it was fair to learn Langdon’s language.” It was either that or French, and this seemed easier.

How else would I figure out what they were discussing in my presence? Knowledge was power, and right now I was deliberately being kept in the dark.

“Mr Devereaux will likely kill you before you learn anything.”

“Well,” I said, tightening my grip on the towel and offering a faint, wry smile, “then I’d better get started.”

I took the books from him carefully, the weight of them grounding me, or trying to. A chill slipped down my spine, and it wasn’t from the air. Something about this felt heavier than it should. Riskier.

“Thanks,” I added, my voice softer now. “I really do appreciate you doing this for me. I just… don’t want you getting dragged down with me.”

He looked up, shrugging. “It’s fine, there are no cameras in here.”

Theblood drained from my face. “Wait, there’s cameras?”

“Everywhere, but I was here when they were fitted so I know the black spots.” His head tilted to the side, seemingly to study me. “Why were you frowning while thinking of your father? He literally gave you over to a man like Mr Devereaux.”

“I offered myself,” I said quietly.

Chip shook his head, brows drawn together. “Same result. And even if he didn’t push you into it, which I know for a fact he did, he sure as hell didn’t stop you. Why are you letting yourself be used like that?”

“You don’t get it.” I moved to step past him, but he blocked the hallway, his expression unreadable. I gritted my teeth. “Chip, let me through.”

“I’m not trying to upset you,” he said gently. “I just want to understand.”

“What’s there to understand? He’s my father. The man who gave me life. He fed me, clothed me, raised me… maybe not well, but at least he tried.” My voice cracked, but only slightly. “Regardless of what he’s done, he’s still myfather.All we have is each other, so if I don’t try to help him, who else will?”

“That’s what I don’t get,” he said, almost to himself. “That kind of blind loyalty to someone who clearly doesn’t care for you. I don’t understand how you can defend him.”

“I’m not defending him,” I argued, swallowing down the ache in my throat. “I’m choosing me. I couldn’t live with the guilt of doing nothing. Of knowing there was something I could have done and walking away instead.”

I already carried that guilt from one parent, I didn’t need it for the other.

With a huff, I barged past, my shoulder hitting his as Ientered my bedroom to place the books down. A learn to sign BSL book, and two cute romances.

Chip lingered in the doorway to the bathroom, his expression stoic.

“Do you have any friends looking out for him?”

I let out a short laugh and sank onto the edge of my bed. “Yeah, I’m not exactly drowning in friends.” And my dad had even fewer. “I tend to trauma-dump,” I added with a dry smile. “People don’t usually stick around after that.”