We’re in a checkmate with James and getting us out of this mess falls to me. I am his fiancée, the one who is supposed to pledge my heart and life to him in four short weeks. My hands start to tremble as I decide to do the one thing that will bring the boiling point down in the room: touch him.
I force a smile as I walk forward and take his rigid hand in my own. He relaxes his hold as our fingers intertwine, then searches my eyes. He must find a false truth in them because the tightness in his jaw fades and the lines in his forehead change from straight to hardly there. My tense shoulders slump in relief as his rage subsides.
Summoning my courage, I lean into James and rest my head on his crisp white shirt. He wraps his free arm around me and I melt into him while wishing he were Sin. His comfort asks nothing from me in return. He gives it to me freely. Even now, when I tilt my head to steal a glance at him, I see his eyes filled with compassion for me. I swear they speak to me without saying an actual word.
“I told you it was too much for you to go to the grave without me. You’re not strong enough to handle a visit like that on your own,” James says, his voice soothing, like I’m a child being coaxed out of my worries, but his intense anger disappears into thin air.
“James?” Sin takes a deep breath. I am afraid of what he might say. I can’t take a confrontation with James yet. I need a solid plan before I go down a lonely road leading away from this house. At this moment, I have nothing, which makes me feel less like a coward for deciding I need to stay.
“You must be tired from working all day. Let me clean up the room.” My words are quick and certain.
“But …” Sin watches me and I shake my head at him, an almost imperceptible motion, while begging him to stop with my eyes. He does, and I find it telling how I can communicate with him without saying a single word.
“I’m exhausted.” James wraps his arms around me and pulls me closer to his chest. I catch a whiff of perfume, one I’ve smelled before, one that isn’t mine. My mind skips over the reasons for a fragrance on his clothing, though deep down, I know the answer and wonder if it even matters.
The solid wall of man I’m leaning into contains no warmth or protection for me. The connection when I was in Sin’s arms felt like a place I could hide away. His arms offered me safety and comfort—two feelings I have not experienced in ages. I forgot how wonderful and liberating they are in this crazy world.
“Head upstairs and I’ll join you in a few minutes,” I say to James while patting his chest. He kisses the top of my head and releases me from his arms, a sweet and tender display for him. Relief floods over me. He bought the story, and I should feel guilty, but I don’t, and I am too tired to figure out why.
“Sin, follow me upstairs,” James says in a way that leaves no question that it was a command.
“Okay,” Sin responds, hesitation in his voice as he looks between James and me. “I have some reading to do anyway.”
James turns and heads to the door as Sin walks toward me. As he passes by, he leans into me, and for some reason, I lean right back, like a magnet to steel.
“Don’t let him touch you if you don’t want him to,” Sin whispers into my ear. I nod and force my hands to stay at my sides. I want to reach out and touch him so badly, but I can’t risk James seeing me. I crave Sin’s touch tonight, not James’. “Come get me if you need me. I mean it.”
Sin pulls away from me and I watch him walk out of the room. The pull between us continues and I follow behind him. I hide in the darkness of the hallway as Sin approaches an awaiting James at the bottom of the stairs. Sin’s shoulders take on a squared-edge when James pats him on the back. I cringe on Sin’s behalf.
As I watch them continue upstairs, words float on the tip of my tongue, though I’m not brave enough to say them to Sin. Words asking Sin to take me away from this house and James. But my unspoken plea would’ve put a burden on him and caused a division in his family.
“She’s a fragile thing. I have to treat her with kid gloves for the most part,” James says to Sin with a wink. I am convinced his wink was referring to sex, especially after what Sin saw between us this morning. James’ words of degradation send an ice-cold chill through me. “I’m not sure what she told you, but Harlow confuses things in her world with fantasies. She had a troubled childhood, for one. Plus, she lost her mother a few months ago. I’m helping her build a new life.”
Sin moves away from James and regards him with his arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t buy the fantasy part. She seems perfectly sane to me,” Sin says, defending me to the man who says he loves me and wants to make me his wife. The only fantasy I’m guilty of believing is James’ lies. All of them. From the police believing Tony’s family is out for me to me not being strong enough to handle my mother’s death without pills.