Page 54 of The Vixen

I left before he ever faced me.

Closing my eyes, I try to clear my thoughts, but one sneaks through. And when it does, it’s the only one that seems to matter.

What will I do when he tries to kill me?

CHAPTER 15

LUNA

Deep, slow exhales sweep through my nostrils as I stare at the background check on my computer screen. Out of the corner of my eye, the curtains hang stiff as boards—mismatched, one side more wrinkled than the other.

I read a paragraph.

Glance at the curtain, my chair squeaking as I shift my weight.

Reread the paragraph.

Reread the paragraph.

Father’s voice:What iswrongwith you?

I sit straight with a growl and blink away the words on the screen. With one more deep breath, I roll my neck; lean forward with my elbows on the desk; cup my hands around my eyes.

No more curtains.

Criminal history:

Three arrests for felony rape—none of which even made it to court. Two of the victims were minors.

My hands constrict tighter to block out all but a small section of the screen while a band pulls taut on either side of my neck. My shoulders lift toward my ears as an itch tickles its way deep inside both canals.

I can’t see the curtains, but I can feel them. I can feel the glass particles scattered on my floor, too small to collect in my hand. I’ve scrubbed the area, but they’re still there. They’ll always be there, tiny pieces lodged into cracks just out of reach.

If I lit a match to the curtains, it would solve the problem. If I bolted the front door first, it would solve everything.

My eyes close as I let out a steady breath and lower my hands to my desk. When the door opens, I tense, but at the sound of Thorne’s clunky steps, a sigh pulls from my lungs.

I turn just as he shuts the door—carefully—the soft click bringing me back to when we were teenagers. Thorne, climbing the trellis to my window, then tiptoeing away in the middle of the night.

He must know Father is angry.

“Hey,” he says, his voice low. When he approaches, he kisses my cheek—honest and loyal and way too fast. I follow as he pulls away, my neck arching a centimeter before I stop myself.

“Hi.”

He leans against my desk and crosses his arms over his chest. “Well, you were right. She’s calmed down since we put her with the Nurturers.”

I spin the chair so I’m facing him and rest my elbows on the armrests. My hands steeple in front of my chest. “Did you mention Mr. Hansley’s execution?”

His face impassive, he nods. “She seemed relieved.”

“What makes you say that? Did she smile? Laugh?”

“No… She…” He looks up and twirls his hand as if searching for words. If he’d studied and recorded her reaction as I’d asked, this could be done with a simple report.

But I don’t point that out. It was tense when I asked him to move Liberty to the Hearth. ‘That woman around children?’he’dsneered. His faith in my judgment couldn’t be more compromised, but he didn’t argue long. Didn’t bring it up earlier today, when I’d already excused him of his duties. He was to have the night off.

I can always count on Thorne.