Page 39 of Cruel Pleasures

Mrs. Vanderson glances at me. “You! Didn’t you get up during the round?”

“She did. I saw her,” adds Quincy Mercer. “You were the last person out in the hall. Which means you were up to something while the rest of us were watching the games!”

Several others murmur their agreement before I’ve even had a chance to defend myself against the accusation.

From my side, Archer inserts himself into the frenzy. While many of the others appear wide-eyed and spooked, he’s calmer than a surgeon. Immediately, it’s like he’s in charge. He’s asserted himself just by stepping forward.

“How about we stop the hysterics? It’s clear what’s gone on,” he says. “Someone had it in for our dear little Talia.”

“This isn’t a laughing matter, Archer,” Timothee scolds.

“I missed where I said it was, Timmy. As inconvenient for you and your precious schedule as it may be, a woman’s turned up dead. A woman who was not in the games. Someone under this roof has broken the first rule of this club event.”

“Was it you?” Mr. Vanderson asks, clutching his wife closer. “We all know… we all know how you are. What you are…”

“Enough,” hisses the Hostess. “Tonight’s festivities are over. It is advised you return to your rooms. Rest assured, this matter will be treated with the utmost severity. We will be getting to the bottom of what’s happened.”

The crowd’s still dissatisfied, breaking out in more protests.

“Not good enough when someone’s died! It could’ve been any one of us!”

“The players are supposed to die, not the members!”

“Unacceptable and you know it!”

“How am I supposed to feel safe?” Olivia whines from somewhere behind me.

Eventually, the Hostess, Timothee, and several of the other staff members are able to shepherd the society members from the hall and toward their rooms. I’m one of the last to move, my brain as paralyzed as my feet.

I can’t stop staring at Talia as the pool of blood dribbles across the once squeaky clean black-and-white tiled floor.

A toxic cocktail of anxiety and uncertainty has attacked my nervous system. It’s left me almost having an out of body experience, so startled I need a nudge from Archer to get me going. He’s resumed the role of my escort, his hand squarely on the small of my back.

We take the long route, bypassing the main hall for a dimmer, less populated one. We walk without speaking ’til he slows us up and then catches me by surprise, easing me back against the wall. Still dazed, still unlike myself, it’s all I can do to blink up at him.

“You understand what’s just happened, don’t you, Sasha?” he asks.

My brows crease. “Talia’s murder?—”

“Someone here has nefarious intentions,” he interjects. His palms tighten over the ball of my shoulders, his touch warm and naturally intimate. “Which means you have to be very careful. You don’t know what you could be dealing with.”

“What do you mean? Are you saying… whoever did it could be…” I swallow, unable to complete my thought. “They’ll come after me?”

He squeezes my shoulders again and looms closer, his scent so overpowering, so attractive, it’s disorienting. “I’m saying what it sounds like. No one knows what we could be dealing with. But I’ll look after you. If you’ll let me.”

“I don’t need looking after?—”

“You do in this company. You don’t seem to realize the snakes you’re around. Your grandfather may have protected you, but he’s not here, is he?” he asks. “Do you want to end up like Talia or do you want to survive this?”

I frown, my blinks frequent and quick. “No… of course not…”

“Let’s get you up to your room.”

Archer curls a protective arm around me and guides me the entire way upstairs to my room on the third floor. He stands outside until I’ve unlocked the door and stepped inside, then he asks me to join him for dinner tomorrow night.

For a real date.

I’m still so out of it, I agree without even thinking.