Page 63 of Burned

“Am I okay?” I smile weakly. “What is okay anymore?”

He kisses my forehead. And the simple, comforting gesture of love is all I need to keep going. I’m the one to open the library door.

Lucian leans down until his mouth is almost at my ear. His breath brushes my skin.

“You sit beside me.”

“Always.”

We settle into the room, all wood and leather and luxury. She sits like a queen at a throne. Perfectly poised.

Her cream-colored coat is folded neatly over the back of her high-back chair. Her matching dress is sleeveless, showing off her slender arms, and made of silk. Her legs are elegantly crossed, her manicured hands neatly folded in her lap, nails painted an elegant pale pink.

She wears a kiss of blush and lipstick, and the rest of her makeup is the kind you can’t tell she’s wearing any. At least a man couldn’t.

She’s taken out her bun. I worry she’s done it for him. A curtain of her blonde hair hangs flawlessly over her right shoulder.

Did Lucian once tell her he likes it when she wears her hair down?

I scoot my chair closer to Lucian’s. He doesn’t wrap a comforting arm around my shoulders. But his arm presses against mine.

I’ll take it.

The interrogation begins.

“What did Carlos keep you alive for?” Rafe asks after seeing that Lucian is clearly not speaking.

Isobel’s gaze stays on Lucian. Steady. With a false sense of confidence. “We were working together.”

The words settle over the room like ash.

No one breathes. No one speaks.

She just confirmed she had a part in killing Lucian’s men.

And almost killed Lucian.

Gregory says what we already know but want her to confirm. “The video was you leaving the warehouse that day.”

“Yes,” she says.

Gregory, the least violent of all of us, looks down at the table as if he wishes he wasn’t.

I want to kill her myself. Lucian sits beside me. I reach for his hand, squeezing it hard enough to hurt.

He doesn’t move.

“I didn’t know what his plans were that day,” her voice shakes, “At least not all of them.”

My words do. Sharp and swift. “Did you ever really love him?”

“Erin. Don’t.” He pulls his hand from mine.

“No.” A laugh escapes me. Not funny. Choked. “She stayed with a man who tried to kill you, Lucian. Do you get that? Whatever you felt for her, it ended with death and destruction and her running off with Carlos.”

His jaw flexes.

“I was with Carlos, first,” she says, looking at me instead of Lucian. “Lucian stole me from him. The first betrayal belonged to Lucian.”