I’m pretty sure Paxton’s had a headache for days that he won’t cop to. I see it in his constant squinting.
Nurse Jen’s mouth pulls into a crooked smile as she flips her short cherry-colored hair back from her face. “That’s my girl. I can help you with that, and good for you for asking. Ten minutes at a time.” She turns and fishes in her drawer, pulling out a bottle. “You don’t have to plan for the next five years, or even the rest of the day. When it gets to be too much, take it ten minutes at a time.” She hands me two pills and a cup of water, watching me as I swallow.
But the only thing that slides down my throat is the water. I tuck the pills into the pocket of my cheek, grateful for the coating that will hopefully keep them intact until dinner, when I can give them to Paxton to soothe his pain.
“Thanks, Nurse Jen.”
The twinkle in her eyes gives me just enough gumption to go back and face my life. “Ten minutes at a time.”
I nod, claiming the promise that in this short span of time, life isn’t terrible at all. In fact, I even managed a smile with a woman I respect, and maybe even trust. “Ten minutes.”
10
Mauve Draperies
Arlanna
I’m last to the cafeteria, and my stomach can feel it. When the guard escorts me in, the chow line is only four deep, which is a rarity. I’m starting to get anxious whenever I’m in a room with loads of people. As bizarre as it sounds, I’ve started to long for my cell, strange as the vibe in there is, after trading Cass for Paxton. I can let my shoulders drop in my cell. Here, out in the open, my guard is constantly up.
Gray trots over to me, a tightness to his expression and a stiffness in his gait. He doesn’t say anything, so I know whatever’s bothering him is too dreadful for words. Instead of a greeting, he stays in the line with me, his hand on the small of my back while I assemble my tray without the usual struggle.
“Maybe I should always wait to be last in line for chow. This is much better. Everyone’s too engrossed in their meal to mess with me.” I say it flippantly, but Gray is noncommunicative.
I can feel waves of unrest rolling off his skin. By the time we get to our regular table, I’m certain something happened while I was with Nurse Jen. Cass is gripping her spork, and Charlotte’s head is tilted downward, like she’s too sad to lift her chin.
I slide onto the bench with as much decorum as I can manage. “Wow, I must’ve missed something good. You all okay?”
Cass chews her food, staring me down like I should know better than to ask something so stupid. “We’re peachy. Absolutely peachy. One of our own got bashed in the head, and there’s not a bloody thing we could’ve done to prevent it, because we were assigned to other details. But sure, we’re grand.”
My shoulders deflate, and I tear into my cornbread. “Oh, that? It’s fine. Probably looks worse than it is.”
“Good, because it looks like shite. Total and utter shite. Did you get punched in both eyes and also the forehead?”
The food tastes like sand in my mouth. “Can we talk about something else? Like, anything else?”
Cass leans forward, looking surlier than usual. “How about you give me the name of the idiot who knocked you stupid? I’d like to have a chat about that.”
I munch on my dinner, not wanting to get into it. “I didn’t catch who did it. They got me from behind.” It’s a lie, and they can no doubt smell it on me.
“You don’t want me more frustrated than I already am,” Cass threatens as she stabs at her chicken. “Give me a name.”
“Why? So you can get solitary for fighting? They’re not going to stop. The best thing you can do for the situation is drop it and fake your way through normal dinner conversation. Normal people don’t talk about brawls over their meal.”
Cass is incapable of faking anything, least of all levity.
Charlotte’s gone quiet.
It’s Gray who finally breaks the silence, though everyone around our table is indulging in lively conversations. “Don’t you just love what they’ve done with the draperies lately? Really spruces up the place.”
Like a fool, I glance at the walls, realizing there’s no windows, and there’s never been, nor will there ever be any draperies.
I cast him a wry look and manage to snicker under my breath. “You had me going there for a second. Why yes, the draperies are much lovelier. What is that delicious color?”
“Mauve,” Gray replies without missing a beat. Then the space between his eyebrows bunches. “What color is mauve, exactly?”
“Like a dusty rose hue. Picture an elderly grannie’s curtains with roses on them. That’s mauve.”
Gray tilts his head back, his mouth opening in an “ah” shape.
Cass motions between us with her spork. “Whatever. Do this shtick all you want. I’ll get to the bottom of whoever sent you to the infirmary. One way or another, they’ll learn you’re not to be messed with.”
When a fifth tray slides into our circle, I’m surprised, even though maybe I shouldn’t be. “Hello, Paxton.”
His nod is tight. “Hello, Arlanna. How are you feeling, darlyss?”
All four of us freeze at the sweetheart greeting, but Paxton doesn’t flinch or look like he wants to take it back. He also doesn’t look at me as if he’s said anything controversial at all as he towers over us.
I swallow my bite of cornbread. “I’m just fine. Nothing more than a bump. Very dramatic for the little scrape it was.”
Cass glowers at me and Gray scoffs. “You look like shite,” Cass reminds me.
“Thanks for the update. I don’t actually know how it looks, since there aren’t mirrors anywhere.”
Paxton locks eyes with Gray. “Would you two mind if I sat on Arlanna’s other side from now on? At least until things settle for her? It seems people fear you because you’re a shifter, but they’re just waiting for you to be three feet from her before they strike. They respect me. Perhaps that would cover her for the moments you need to step away.”
I hate that I need protection. I’m used to it, being that Sloan’s been by my side my whole life. But in here, I didn’t think that would still be a necessity.
“Fine by me,” I murmur, not sounding grateful at all.
Gray pauses, and I can tell he’s unhappy at the suggestion. Then he deflates. “Cheers, Paxton. I could use the help. You’re right. Fear is only getting us so far. Respect might be the one thing I’ll never earn from the fae.”
Paxton picks up his tray and moves around the table to slide in beside me.
Cass’ murmur of “sly dog,” goes unaddressed when I notice Paxton’s squint.
I fish around in my bra as discreetly as one can do such a thing, and hand him the two painkillers I didn’t swallow. “Here. It’s for my headache. I saved them for you. I know you’ve been battling yours on and off since you got here.” I drop the tablets in his palm and close his fingers around them. Not the most covert drug deal, but to be fair, it’s nothing you’d even need a prescription for.
Paxton blinks at the pills, then at me. “How did you know I had a headache?”
I squint to mimic his strain. “When you look like this, it’s a dead giveaway.”
Paxton pops them in his mouth and swallows with a swig of water. “Cheers. It’s the lights.” He motions toward the ceiling. “I’m used to constantly wearing sunglasses, both inside and outside. I’m trying not to complain about it and just let my eyes adjust, but I can’t shake these headaches.”
“The nurse is nice. You should talk to her about it. Maybe not about all your magic stuff, but about your headaches, at least.”
“Maybe.” Paxton replies in a way that makes me think he’s definitely not going to talk to Nurse Jen about anything. “For now, just this small bit of medicine is the ticket. Should take the edge off.” His elbow brushes mine, and finally, my spine relaxes.
We all eat in peace until Charlotte breaks the companionable silence. “My mum murdered my brother.”
/> Paxton chokes on his cornbread, inhaling a few crumbs. He coughs until Gray gets up and pounds him on the back, and I hand him his water. “Come again?” Paxton croaks.
Charlotte continues on as if it’s a totally normal conversation topic. “My mum’s a clairvoyant, and she ignored her prophetic vision when it told her to do something. It drove her to madness, so she killed my brother.” She meets Paxton’s gaze with seriousness that stills all movement around the table. “That’s why you only have until tonight before your cuffs are unlocked. I won’t go mad to protect you, no matter how good you’re being to us. You’ll put us all in danger if you resist much longer. I don’t want to accidentally murder Arly or Gray because my visions are driving me to madness.”
Paxton pales, as if he’s suddenly realizing there’s a ticking time clock attached to his freedom (paltry though that word may be, incarcerated as we are). He turns slightly, his eyes combing my face.
I can read his thoughts without having to hear them. Though I don’t mean to, I can see his aura. It’s a violet color, which means he’s a visionary. No arguments here, but there’s a grey that’s polluting the purity of the hue.
He knows that he won’t be able to get a good look at me after tonight.
Paxton’s sadness comes out quietly as he addresses Charlotte. “I know enough about clairvoyants to understand that you’re telling the truth. But this is dangerous. I don’t have my sunglasses in here. Mere eye contact is perilous if I sustain it for more than a few seconds. But you’re not just talking about unlocking my magic; there’s a possibility it could be enhanced because of who Arlanna is. If my magic increases further? I can only imagine how much worse it’ll get from there.”
Charlotte stabs at her food, her jaw resolute. “I don’t disagree with you. I also don’t understand why this is part of the plan to get us all out of here. But it’s not my job to know; it’s my job to obey. My vision has run out of patience. Either we unlock you tonight, or there will be consequences far worse than not being able to make eye contact.”
Cass tilts her head to the side. “Any way you could make sure you don’t enhance him, Arly-girl? Like, just unlock him without doing the other stuff?”
I grimace. “I don’t mean to do it. I meant to unlock you all, sure, but the enhancing thing just happens on its own.” I duck my head. “I might have accidentally enhanced Nurse Jen.” I hold up my hands at their gasps. “I don’t think she knows anything is different. And honestly, maybe it’s not.”
That’s a fool’s hope, but I cling to it all the same.
Paxton examines my injury, as if that’s the thing that is making the decision for him. He’s quiet for a few beats, his lips pursed as too many arguments flicker across his gentle eyes. “If it gets Arlanna out of here and somewhere safer, then I’m in.” His gaze settles on mine. The eye contact is painfully intimate for reasons I can’t put into words. “I cannot watch you suffer like this.”
It’s clear the bump on my head hurts him more than it does me. I don’t want that for him.
I hold up my chin defiantly, but it’s a bad acting job. “I’m not suffering. It’s my honor to serve time for my family’s crimes.”
“Bullshit,” Cass says.
Paxton studies my pride with compassion. “The Sins of the Father bill was a terrible idea. When we get out, I’ll need your help overturning it. They kept us apart for a reason. They knew that if we ever teamed up, we’d be unstoppable.”
My breath catches in my chest. I don’t understand how everything he says sounds both innocent and like a proposition rolled into one. But one thing I love about his fervor is that he thinks I’m useful, and not just ornamental.
The validation brings emotion to the forefront, so I work hard to control myself. “You want my help?”
The corner of his mouth quirks. “No. Need, Arlanna. I need your help. If you wore your shoes on your head, the next day, everyone would follow the trend. Imagine if you set your sights on tearing down the Sins of the Father bill. The cabinet wouldn’t stand a chance.”
“I like that.” I lower my gaze because there’s too much sentiment I can’t hold back. “I really like that.” Then I straighten, remembering that we’re not free yet. “But in here, you might want to keep your space. I’m sort of the opposite of a good luck charm at Prigham’s. I’m likely to get you ostracized.”
Cass snorts. “Oh, no! Not ostracized!”
Paxton’s knuckles brush mine. “I don’t need them to like me, Arlanna. Don’t you know you’re the only one I care about in this entire place?”
I gape at him. I can’t help it. Again, there he goes with that not-quite-proposition, not-quite-platonic kind of talk. “I… Thank you, Paxton.”
“We’ll do a better job keeping you safe in here.” Then Paxton reaches around me and holds out his fist to Gray. “Whatever it takes.”
Gray pauses, as if examining an invisible wall dividing the two of them. Then finally, his shoulders relax, and he uncrosses his arms so he can bump his fist to Paxton’s. “Whatever it takes.”
11
Shifter Whore
Arlanna
When our meal is interrupted by someone walking by and slapping me upside the back of my head, Paxton and Gray close in on either side of me, pressing a shoulder each to mine.
This is stressful. I try to make it look like I’m unaffected by small minds, but on the inside, I’m shaken and flinching far too often. Slapping my head within an hour of me getting a head injury? It’s cruel.
Tears well up, but I shove them down as best I can.
I will not cry. I’ll take the resentment they feel for their parents, but they cannot have my tears in exchange.
Cass checks to make sure none of the guards are looking her way, then stands and whips her apple hard at the back of my assailant’s head, hitting him with such force, I can hear the heavy “thonk” before he trips forward. Then she sits back down so fluidly, it’s like it never happened.
Gray kisses my temple while Paxton rubs his hand up and down my spine.
It’s a bold move on Paxton’s behalf—not just his sitting beside me, but also touching me so affectionately in plain view of the entire cafeteria. I’ve done my best to feel nothing as much as possible, so I don’t devolve into a puddle of emotions. But it’s too much today. My ball of despair has grown dense enough that I cannot brush it aside.
It’s hitting me too hard, and in public, no less. I want to go home. I want to be in my house, in my own bed, under my own sheets, cuddled up to my sweet Everly Ann, with Sloan bustling about the house. I want my own clothes back. I want to hole myself up in my bedroom and sob the day away. Just one solid day of rest, so I don’t have to worry about errant shoves and the constant insults through which I have to keep my composure.
Screw composure.
My chest jumps unevenly. Gray’s lips stay warm on my temple, and Paxton’s hand on my back coaxes too many buried things to the forefront.
I can’t do this. If they keep this up, and Charlotte maintains her sympathetic gaze, I’m going to lose it right here in front of all the people who’ve been trying to wear me down.
I can’t give them the satisfaction.
I stand abruptly and step out of the bench, knowing if I don’t get out of here soon, I’m either going to cry in public or have a panic attack trying not to. “I’ll see you all in twenty-four hours.”
“What?” Paxton balks.
But Charlotte, Cass and Gray know exactly what I’m planning. They stand, protesting, but I’m already turning toward the aggressor who knocked me in the back of my head. On the day I got a head injury.
Jackass.
Though, truthfully, I’m not even all that mad at him. He’s a perfect stranger to me. Part of me is actually grateful he’s displayed such horrid behavior right when I needed a break. He’s going to be my ticket out of this room. Because of him, I’m going to get away from everyone’s constant scrutiny for a blissful twenty-four hours. Best of all, I�
��ll be able to cry in private.
I trot after him, but Gray and Cass are quick.
Gray’s arms wrap around me from behind. I can’t decide if it’s a sweet hug or if I loathe the controlling nature of it.
His breath is hot on my ear with a warning. “Don’t even think about it. You’re not decking that guy so you can go to solitary. Maybe you think that’s a solid plan, but it’s not. Remember the last time? You said you would talk to us instead of letting it build like this.”
Cass trots around to stand in my eyeline, her jaw firm. “That’s right. I’ll do the fighting, because I can get away with it better than any of you. Your cuts from when you lost your mind in solitary are finally healed. You’re not putting yourself through that again. Tonight, you’re talking.”
A pathetic whine escapes me. I don’t want to feel the vulnerability bleeding out of me quicker than anyone can staunch. “It’s too much.”
I wish I was stronger, or more indifferent.
Cass searches my face, seeing things in me I don’t mean to let slip. “Then you’ll tell us about it, and we’ll help you. This is what it is to have friends.”
Gray holds me tighter, though not enough to hurt me. “I’m right here.”
I feel Gray’s desperation, his frustration that I’d rather spend a day in solitary than open up to him about how hurtful all of this is.
I don’t mean to do that to him. The fight gusts out of me as I sag in his arms, releasing a solitary shutter that rolls through my body and into his.
“Just like that,” he urges, his voice gentle yet controlled. “This is not too much for us. You have to trust that we know what we’re getting ourselves into, and we can handle this.”
Jeers of “shifter whore” hit my ears, which I should have expected, given that Gray’s arms are around me in the middle of the cafeteria.
Sins of the Mother: A Paranormal Prison Romance (Sinfully Sacrificed Book 2) Page 6
