Page 49 of Splintered Desire

The venom in the way she says my name shouldn’t be attractive, but clearly, my brain doesn’t actually understand what that’s supposed to mean.

“Would it be so terrible for you to simply shut up and take the gift as what it is?” I snap as I pull up in front of the shop and park.

“It’s not a gift,” she argues, turning to glare at me, and I watch the way her eyes shine when she looks at me.

Nobody looks at us like that, talks to us like this.

It’s intoxicating.

“A gift is something you give someone without expectations or strings attached. This is going to be dangled over me for the rest of for fucking ever!” She throws her hands in the air and huffs in annoyance, and all I can do is watch her, a smile pulling at my lips.

Her eyes flick down, tracing the shape of my mouth. I can’t help it—or maybe I don’t want to. I dart my tongue out, licking my bottom lip before I sink my teeth into it, holding her gaze the entire time.

This is dangerous; she’s dangerous.

“What if I told you it was one hundred percent a gift from me? I won’t ever hold it over your head, and I won’t let my brothers either.” Her eyes snap up to meet mine again, and I half expect her to seem embarrassed or annoyed that she was caught, but she seems completely unfazed.

She stares at me, searching my eyes for something, before she seems to finally give in. I’m not sure if she found it or simply gave up, but it doesn’t much matter so long as she listens.

“Fine, but you better be telling the fucking truth,” she grumbles as she unbuckles and throws the door open. Seemingly having had enough of me and whatever this is.

“Are you going to stab me if I’m not?” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, and I mentally berate myself.

What the fuck is this? I don’t joke and play; Jace does enough of that for all of us. So why does she make me want to?

I move out of the car, catching her wince and look around, but she doesn’t seem to regret what she did, or even shocked that I know.

“He deserved that,” she tells me, pointing at me as if she thinks I might defend him.

“He did.” I nod.

I won’t defend him. I would applaud her if only she hadn’t done the opposite of what she’d hoped. Most would think that stabbing someone would keep them away, or at the very least, teach them boundaries.

Not Jace.

All she did was make sure she had his full attention.

I watch her brows pinch at my admission before I turn and head into the shop, leaving her to follow.

Iknew I needed to get a dress, but I kept putting it off. I’d been busy with school, the fights, and wasting time searching for somewhere else to live.

Having a car would definitely help, because public transport, while convenient before, doesn’t exactly help me run a tight schedule.

If only I knew anything about cars. I wonder if Reed would help me with that.

Shit, I shouldn’t ask him. He shouldn’t even be an option, but more and more often, I find myself defaulting to him.

I trail after Isaac as he makes his way into this, no doubt, the best money-can-buy dress shop. I’m still not convinced this will be a ‘gift,’ but I don’t have much choice, and we're already here.

And I can think of worse DuPonts to owe a debt to.

Speaking of Jace, I’d really expected Isaac to be upset that I stabbed his brother. I’m not at all surprised he knows about it, though; I bet they tell each other when they last shit and came and all that.

One fucking brain cell shared between the three of them, though maybe Jace doesn’t get it.

“Mr. DuPont.” The formal greeting has me looking up to find a woman, maybe in her late twenties, early thirties, standing at the counter, not even attempting to hide the obvious shock on her face.

“Just Isaac,” he tells her, waving her off without so much as giving her a second look. “We need a room, nobody else while we're here, and I want all of your best black dresses with a high slit and low cut, but still tasteful.”