Page 139 of Coveted

An unpleasant sensation jolts my ribs.

I don’t want to discuss Parker’s death as entertainment. He deserves better and so does his family, despite what Chace may think.

Holly’s smile fades. “They haven’t caught the killer yet?”

“Nope,” I say, praying the topic changes.

“What a pity,” says Chace.

Once the fire becomes too hot and bright to bear, I wander around the yard, glad to be away from the appraising stares and whispers.

Wings rustle in the trees and dew dampens my sneakers. The sharp contrast between the fireside and the cold, inky darkness refreshes me.

Alone for a moment, I can process my troubling thoughts and feelings about tonight, because hanging out with old friends has been revealing in unexpected ways.

I assumed I would feel at home, but it’s clear that I’m an outsider here, and maybe always was. In high school, I was never able to be myself completely or relax around anyone. I got used to it, but that doesn’t mean it was a good way to live.

No wonder I was afraid of Lucan seeing me. Nobody ever had before, and he knew it too. He instinctively understood that I kept people at bay and he wanted to know why.

The realization that I don’t fit in here unsettles me though, because where does this leave me? I’m suspended between two worlds, and I belong to neither.

CHAPTER 36

Lucan

Awoman’s frantic screams echo through my uncle’s manor.

“Right this way, sir,” says the butler, leading me down a cavernous hallway.

Uncle Gareth prefers older architecture, all dark wood and grim oil paintings. Places that feel haunted. After the losses he’s experienced, maybe the vibe feels oddly comforting to him.

The woman’s screams grow louder, accompanied by dramatic music.

“Your uncle and his wife are out with Miss Adelle,” says the butler in his prim voice. “Mr. Damon is home.”

“So I can hear,” I say.

The butler brings me to a sitting room, bowing deeply before leaving.

Damon sprawls on a lounge, watching a gigantic television mounted between matching bronze shields. On the screen, a man with a knife chases a screaming woman through a deserted shopping mall.

“Damon,” I say.

“Lucan, hey.” He beckons for me to join him. “What’s up?”

I lean with my hands on the back of the lounge. “I’m taking Gareth up on his offer to look in Parker’s room for anything I might want to keep.”

Damon keeps his gaze on the screen, transfixed by the cinematic butchering. “Cool.”

“Good movie?”

“Yeah, it’s alright. Something to get me in the mood.”

Concern stabs deep in my chest. “The mood for what?”

He looks at me, lifting his brows. “Halloween’s tomorrow?”

“Oh yeah,” I say, rolling my shoulders.