Page 97 of Tears of Glass

“No.” I shake my head. “I’ve never done anything about it.”

“But Eli—”

“What about Eli?”

Tabitha chews on her bottom lip. “That would kill him, knowing you hadn’t received justice. He wants justice for everyone. I remember the row at home when they pushed him into his career path. He fought them so hard, but no one wins against the Faircloughs, so he said he’d follow their wishes, but not because of them, but because he wanted to help people.”

My chest tightens. “He can’t fix everything. My history is too buried now, I don’t want to bring it all up again, and it’s caused enough pain.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well I don’t speak to my dad. What happened shaped my life every day until I met your brother. I tried to erase the past by telling myself I was in charge, that I could decide who I would sleep with and when, and I prevented anyone from getting close.”

“But you let me in.”

I lean closer and squeeze her in my arms. “Sure did, Sister.” Her eyes light on my face and she goes to open her mouth.

“Don’t even think it. He hasn’t asked, and I haven’t answered.” I need to change this subject sharp.

“What do you want to do now?” I meet her gaze. “Tabitha, I am so sorry for what’s happened to you.”

Her bottom lip wobbles and I fight back a flurry of tears. “I’m sorry about what happened to you.”

We slip into one another’s arms and hug tight, both of us swept away as we hug as tight as two long lost sisters, and I stare at the darkening sky wondering what is going to happen to all of us, and whether there is the slightest chance any of us can break free from the Faircloughs once and for all.

I’m in the studio. I gave up trying to sleep at midnight when Eli still wasn’t home.

I’ve got one of Eli’s easels pulled under a spotlight, and on my palette I have a mix of grey, every shade I could make. My heart feels heavy after an afternoon walking London with Stephen, seeing the truth under the city that most people turn a blind eye to. My conversation with Tabitha is weighing on my heart although I’m pleased in a way she’s decided to stay on in London and not run back to Bowsley. She even talked of going out and getting a job, just something in a shop, something she can call her own. Jennifer Fairclough is going to spit fire, but good on Tabs for taking a stand. Maybe me telling her about my past helped her to see that it is possible to be free. I don’t know.

The handle clicks softly, and I turn, my gaze falling on Eli. I catch my breath. He’s something else stood there in a white shirt, unbuttoned at the neck; and dark suit trousers. His feet are just covered in black socks and it’s endearing and sexy all at once.

He comes closer, the blues on my face. “What are you doing up?”

He smiles and I breathe in the scent of him as he reels me into his arms, his hard body pressing into mine, his hold strong and secure. My nose skims the warm skin of this throat. “Worrying about you.”

His lips press against my hair, my nose, and then my lips. I fall into his kiss, my hands in his hair, my body coming alive as it presses against his, all firm lines and hidden strength. “Faith,” he whispers my name into my mouth and it sparks a wildfire spreading through my limbs.

“I missed you.” I kiss him harder, trying to give him everything while inside I’m swept into a molten lava of desire.

His hands slip under my shirt, palming the skin on my tummy.

“Wait.” I break the kiss although my body chastises me with a sting of separation. “How did it go?”

His eyes flash, swirling with desire. “Well, you’re no longer my mistress.” His lips quirk. “For which my mother sincerely apologises by the way.”

I tilt my head while my blood pumps fast, my heart clangs, wanting to soar free of the chains I’ve tethered it down with. “What does that mean?”

His hands slide to my hips, anchoring me against him. “It means you’re mine, but then I’ve always known that.”

“What?”

“You are mine, Faith, always mine, until the day I die.”

A tear slips down my face. “This is happening. No more hiding?”

“Faith, you will never have to hide again.”

His lips crash into mine, dragging me into the dream he can weave with his words. Our tongues dance, hot breath mingling as he lifts me, and I straddle my legs around his waist as he walks us out of the studio and back into the house.