Page 14 of Upon Blooded Lips (Vengeance #1)
TESSA
I bury my face in the feather pillows, mumbling incoherent words while tucking myself deeper under the fluffy blankets. The cozy warmth tempts me to burrow in and return to sleep, but a quiet nagging voice in the far reaches of my mind begs me to wake up.
My hand wraps around the blanket, fingers running over the soft fibers. The muscles in my back stiffen when I remember I don’t own feather pillows or fleece blankets.
I snap upward and brush the hair out of my face, wincing at the sudden sharp stab of pain in my head. I rub my forehead and peer around the unfamiliar room. Where am I?
The king-size bed is as soft as a cloud, loaded with pillows and blankets in various shades of browns and creams. Taupe fabric wallpaper covers the walls, leading the eye to the coffered twelve-foot ceiling.
A comfortable-looking extra-wide chair sits in the corner with a small table beside it stacked with books.
The dress I wore to my graduation lies tossed over the arm of the chair, and my mouth dries.
I leap out of bed and glance down at myself with my heart hammering.
I don’t remember putting on a T-shirt and pajama shorts.
A sob catches in my throat. The memory of being grabbed and taken behind the stage slams into me.
The room spins, and I stumble against the bedside table, nearly knocking over the glass of water sitting on it.
A piece of paper and two pills catch my eye, and I scoop it up with trembling hands.
You’re safe.
I changed our clothes. Take the pain relief to help your head. When you’re ready, go downstairs.
I promise it will be okay.
— MG
She even added a lipstick kiss. I blow out a relieved breath and wipe my trembling hands down my sides.
Okay. If Mirror Girl says it’s safe, then it’s safe.
After swallowing the pills, I pad around the bed and open the curtains.
The window takes up most of the wall and reveals a lush lawn with colorful flower beds bordering a forest. I step closer and lean my head against it to look straight down, finding a large swimming pool surrounded by a patio with three sun loungers.
Next, I check out the books, surprised to find several of my favorite authors among the titles.
My brows furrow, and a sense of unease slithers through my mind.
I throw open one of the three doors to find a fully stocked walk-in closet about a third of the size of the bedroom.
Someone could fill a store with the amount of clothes and shoes in it.
There’s also a dressing table with drawers filled with makeup, lotions, and perfume, all in my preferred brands.
I back out of the closet and open the second door to find an en suite bathroom fit for a princess. My heart flutters in my chest at the sheer size of it. I barely notice the chill of the marble tile beneath my bare feet as I run my fingertips over the countertop.
A Jacuzzi-style bathtub big enough for multiple people sits under an arched window facing the forest. The shower takes up one full wall, with a variety of showerheads. There’s even a fucking chandelier.
I wander back into the bedroom and wrap my arms around myself. It’s like whoever planned this room had access to my mind when they designed it. It’s exactly what I would have picked out for myself.
Who would have done this?
Panic comes racing back when I remember it’s my wedding day. Did the Martinellis take me? I back away and trip over the side of the chair, landing on my ass on the floor with an undignified shriek.
When did you stop trusting me?
Oh, now you’re talking to me?
Stop being a baby. You stink. Go have a shower and get dressed. They’re waiting for you.
Who?
The bitch goes quiet, and I let out a sigh. What is she hiding? And she’s wrong; I do trust her. She’s never not had my best interests at heart.
After showering, brushing my teeth, and dressing in shorts and a T-shirt, I stop in front of the third door and square my shoulders. You’re safe. Seize the day and all that bullshit.
I open the door and smack into a hard chest. Tilting my head up, my gaze latches on to a pair of stunning gray eyes, and my breath catches in my throat. A long-forgotten memory bubbles to the surface, its edges clouded by time.
“My Eric,” I whisper against the lump forming in my throat. Tears mist my eyes, blurring my vision of the darkly beautiful man before me and replacing it with a hazy picture of a boy with black curls who made me feel safe.
He reaches out and brushes the tears away with his thumb. The touch sends a shiver through me, making me suck in a sharp breath. “No crying, angel, not today. We have a surprise for you.”
He holds out his hand, but I freeze at the endearment. Only one person calls me angel. “You’re… you’re Pal2?”
A dazzling white smile spreads across his face. “Who else would rescue you the day before your wedding?” I laugh, but it comes out more like a strangled sob. Eric’s smile falls away, and he places both hands on my cheeks. “You didn’t think we’d abandon you, did you?”
I lower my head and shrug. I’ve dreamed of meeting my pen pals since I was eleven, and now that one of them is standing in front of me, it feels surreal. It was easy, once I trusted them, to pour out my soul to them online. They were nameless, faceless people behind a screen.
They know everything about me. The abuse. The devastating words Presley said to me. My hopes and dreams. They helped me with my homework, coached me through my first period, and listened to all my revenge plans. They’re strangers, but strangers with intimate knowledge of me.
The bedroom makes sense now. I shared some pictures I found online with them once, and they’ve recreated it for me. No one has ever done anything nice for me before, and I don’t know how to handle it.
“Maybe?” I mumble, keeping my eyes locked on the pink and black skull Converse I found in the closet.
Eric scoffs and grabs my hand, pulling me out of the doorway. “Never. Now come on, little cousin, I’ll give you a tour while Nate cooks breakfast.”
Cousin? My heels skid against the dark hardwood flooring, and my arm nearly pops out of its socket.
Eric glances over his shoulder and laughs at my expression.
He really does have lovely eyes. I’d kill for those thick sooty lashes.
He tugs on my arm, and I listen while he points out his room, Nate’s, and the two guest bedrooms. The amount of wall space between each room hints at just how big the bedrooms are.
Downstairs is even bigger.
Eric rushes me through the tour, pointing out the living room, a guest bathroom, two offices, laundry room, movie theater, and…
I slip my hand out of Eric’s and spin around, my heart leaping at the most magnificent room I’ve ever seen.
There are books everywhere. Like my bedroom, the library has coffered ceilings.
Bookcases cover the entirety of two walls, with books crammed onto each shelf.
A giant fireplace dominates the third wall with three chairs in front of it, offering the perfect place to warm yourself during the frosty winters.
Ornate wood-carved arched windows take up most of the fourth wall, offering a jaw-dropping view of the flower gardens and forest. The room has dedicated seating areas dotted across it, allowing a variety of choices for relaxation.
Eric waits patiently while I explore every nook and cranny.
I run my fingers over the book covers, my mouth running dry when I see some of my favorite childhood books.
I slide out a beautifully illustrated copy of Beauty and the Beast and clutch it to my chest. They remembered. They remembered everything.
Don’t fucking cry again. Just don’t.
Dammit.
After sliding it back on the shelf, I continue on, biting my lip when I see the why choose romances, the primal kink romances, the dark and dirty romances… fuck. I never told them about these. They’re my guilty little pleasures, the books I lose myself in to escape reality.
I’ve lived a thousand lives within their pages. I’ve explored the world, gone on adventures, and been in love. I flew with dragons, fell in love with the Beast, had the freedom to explore the darker side of my sexuality.
In them, I was safe and whole, not a shattered mess of ragged pieces too damaged to be put back together.
I turn to find Eric watching me with a sheepish look on his face. “I, uh, might have gone through your reading list.”
My cheeks flush. Oh god. He knows what I’ve been reading. Please tell me he didn’t go through my book highlights too. Can the ground please swallow me now?
“You did this for me?”
“It’s one of your birthday presents.”
One of my birthday presents? I have presents?
It’s all too much. I don’t know what to feel. How to feel. One day, I’m filled with apprehension, fear, and anger about the life being forced on me. Then I’m drugged, kidnapped, and tossed into my dream house with men who are strangers but aren’t.
I don’t know the rules. Why am I here? Why did they conceal who they were for so long? Are they really my cousins?
And the most important question of all—what do they want from me?