Page 37 of Wicked Salvation

It should’ve been quiet, peaceful.

Just the hum of the engine, the soft lull of the romantic pop music playing from the speakers. My hand on her thigh, her left hand on mine showing off the six figure rock. It was supposed to feel like a peek into our future—a romantic drive with the windows down, the breeze rustling her hair while she laughed and rested her head on my shoulder.

That’s what I envisioned when I decided to take her into town.

But that’s not what is happening right now.

Eden sits stiff in the passenger seat.

She’s dressed as I expect—a sundress cinched at the waist, showing off just enough of her body to make her alluring without looking like a whore. Her hair is loose around her shoulders and she wears a light layer of makeup that accentuates her features.

Her hands are folded in her lap—covering her ring, though it’s so big that some of it peeks through—and her gaze is fixed out the window like there’s something out there more interesting than me.

More interesting thanus.

The school is long behind us. We’re halfway through the thirty-minute drive to the nearest town that meets my standards. The plan? An exclusive dinner at a Michelin-starred restaurant, then a night of sex that’ll remind me why I love her so much.

Why does her quietness bother me?

Eden is exactly who I want her to be. She got dressed the way I liked, and now she’s sitting beside me as a good girl—a goodwife—should.

But there’s something about the silence…

I twist the steering wheel with one hand, moving the other to her thigh as we take a particularly sharp turn. She looks down at my hand, then back out the window. I wait a few more minutes, in case she has something to say.

She doesn’t.

“You’re quiet.”

Her head turns in my direction, slowly. “I’m just a bit tired.”

“Tired?” I give her a glance. She’s always been a terrible liar, but this seems like the truth. “What’s been making you tired?”

She sighs. “My new roommate is strange.”

Weird is an understatement, but she doesn’t know how fucked up Anastazya is. If shereallyknew who she was, she wouldn’t even feel comfortable sleeping in the same room as her at night. But I have Ana on a leash.

Eden is safe, as long as she continues to be obedient.

“I’m certain it’s just because she’s still new to you.”

She studies me briefly. “They’re trying to replace Vivienne, and she can’t be replaced.”

I do my best to stifle the groan that’s caught in my throat. It’s been more than a month—why is Vivienne still on her mind so much? Unless…

“Did you and Vivienne ever get into anything?”

I slow the car to look at her. We’re on a country road—no cars around at the moment. Eden cocks an eyebrow. “What?”

“I know how it can get with Catholic girls and their roommates. Did you guys mess around, or something?” I study her face.

Eden’s flickers with an emotion I don’t think I’ve ever seen before—anger.

“I don’t get what you’re implying.”

I still press, because it’s obvious that she’s lying. “We both know the photo wasn’t doctored. Vivienne was gay. You’re innocent and in a new environment, maybe this is even your first school where you have a roommate.” I turn my attention back to the road briefly. “I wouldn’t be mad, love. If you fooled around with her, you can tell me. It’s not even really sex.”

Eden starts fidgeting with the hem of her dress. She’s silent for longer than I’d like, but when she speaks her voice crackles over her words. “No, Silas. Vivienne and I didn’t have sex.” Another long pause. “Why would you even think that?”