Page 61 of Top Shelf

“Your idea has merit,” I admit against my better judgment as I scribble in the margin of my notes.

“Merit?” Lucian scoffs. “Please, you know that’s a genius idea.”

I give him a withering look. “It’s decent,” I compromise. “But it needs fine-tuning. While I gather thatguns blazingis your default setting, to pull it off, this requires finesse.”

“I’ve never been much of a fan of finesse,” he states casually.

“I gathered,” I drawl heavily, only half paying attention as I tap my nails against the tabletop, thinking.

“I much prefer the direct approach.” He leans in, voice dropping, and I don’t really heed his words until a foot twines around mine.

I practically jolt out of my chair in shock. “What are you doing?”

His face is one of serene innocence. “Me?” He shrugs before stretching, arms going wide, chest expanding on an inhale. “Nothing. I’m just sitting here.”

Whatever way he’s shifted, his legs now bracket mine, our feet in line, and his jeans brushing against my legs. I can feel his heat…or maybe that’s mine as my body temperature soars.

“Stop that.” My voice wavers, and I don’t know if it’s from nerves or something more carnal that I refuse to look too closely at.

“Stop what?” Lucian tilts his head in a way that makes him look innocent when I know he’s anything but.

“We have a project to do. And… And…”

He smirks knowingly, that damn twinkle back in his eyes. It’s unfair what that stupid spark does to me. It’s like I know what a rarity it is.

“And?” he teases.

I don’t know what makes me say it. Why I don’t just change the topic or tell him to get back to work. Instead, I say, voice solow I’m surprised he even catches the words, “I don’t know if I can trust you.”

His expression shifts instantly, that playful edge replaced by something more meaningful. By a look so full of understanding that it threatens to tear me to shreds. I stare at him for all of two seconds before I rip my gaze away. There’s an itch beneath my skin, a restlessness in my bones that makes it impossible to sit still a moment longer.

The legs of my chair screech painfully against the hardwood floor as I push it back and hurriedly stand, mumbling some excuse about needing a reference book before scurrying down the closest aisle of books.

I take turns blindly, my breath loud in my ears, and thoughts spinning. What I said is true. Idon’ttrust him. I don’t trust any of them. But that’s not the problem. The problem isI want to. I don’t know why. I don’t understand what it is they are doing to me, but I feel like I’m unraveling. Every time Ronan talks to me in that confident, sure tone, it makes me want to believe what he says. When Silas cupped my face and drew that anchor on my palm, I wanted to melt into the promise of a safe harbor that resided in his eyes. Then there are the times when Lucian corners me. A situation that would usually leave me hyperventilating…doesn’t. When I’m around Lucian, it’s not fear I feel, but excitement.

I’m a mess. My past is colliding with the present. Nightmares versus reality. Truth against drug-addled memories. Who do I trust? Who do I believe?

Finally, in an empty aisle, I sag against the bookcase, breathing heavily. Resting the back of my head against a shelf of books, I close my eyes and just breathe.

As it so often does these days, my thoughts go back to that night. It’s all I dream of, but now, every night, instead of Ronan’s harsh tone, Silas’s cruel blue eyes, and Lucian’s painful grip…Ronan’s voice is soft and soothing, Silas’s eyes are flooded with concern, and Lucian’s arms around me are protective.

What is real and what isn’t?

Whatactually happened that night?

That’s the question I’m too afraid to ask.

Iknowwhat happened, ultimately. I was drugged, raped, and abandoned. I woke up the next morning in a room I had no recollection of being in, with a swimming stomach and crusty eyes, and pain that I knew wasn’t normal, before fleeing, terrified that whoever had done this to me would return.

Until I heard Ronan in the bar that night, I had no clue who had hurt me. I would look into the faces of other students as I walked past, asking myself,Could it be you?The unknown killed me for years. Made it so I wasn’t comfortable leaving my apartment alone. So I didn’t go out at night. Didn’t attend parties. Didn’t hang out with people from my class, because what ifhewas one of them? A wolf hidden amongst the sheep.

And then I heard Ronan’s voice, and memories I didn’t even recall came rushing back. In that moment, Iknew. Iknewwith every fiber of my being that it was him. I knew it with such certainty that the fact that I could be wrong was inconceivable.

And now…

What the hell am I supposed to believe now? My fragmented memories or the men I know were there that night?

Blowing out a breath, I work to steady my heart rate.