Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
There were so many things I wanted to ask, so many things I still needed to know, but something off-kilter happened. I watched him regress right before my eyes. It was almost like he was in another place and time entirely. He was no longer in that greenhouse with me.
When he didn’t say anything, the silence ate me alive. Witnessing him like this was captivating. His walls were down. He was willingly showing me a part of him I didn’t know existed. If he and his sister had taught me anything, it was that they were both equally involved in a past that wasn’t good by any means.
Something told me his mother was no longer with us, making me think that maybe we had that in common, having only one parent. Where my upbringing was loving, his was filled with nothing but hatred, rules, and trauma.
I couldn’t help but wonder how she passed…
Was she killed? Is that the date on the tree? 10-31-12?
That would’ve made him six years old when it happened. It would also explain why he was so intoxicated on Halloween. My mind was unraveling with an endless stream of theories, one right after the other.
Because I couldn’t contemplate it any longer, I asked about the flower he was utterly consumed with. “You grow belladonna in here?”
“Mm-hmm…”
This wasn’t just planted in here. It’d been there for years.
Reading my mind, he confessed, “My mother planted them.” His gaze remained focused on the flowers. Not looking at me for a second, he was too fixated with whatever was reeling through his mind.
I watched him like you’d watch a car wreck, completely intrigued and terrified with where this was going. Of what I’d see, feel, hear… of what I’d need to process and how it would affect me.
Of how it’d affect us.
“When I was a kid, I remember picking one.” He let out a small laugh, almost to himself. I could tell he was reminiscing about what he was about to share.
I coaxed, “You touched it?”
“I was maybe five, six…” He cocked his head to the side, studying it as if the memory was somewhere hidden in the leaves. “I used to come in here with her every day. She was always so happy in here. She called it her haven, away from my father, the Brotherhood, the town… the fucking Graves.”
“Onyx—”
“It was our time together, away from rules and oaths and blood…”
I listened like he was telling me a bedtime story, and I guess in a way he was.
“On that particular morning, she slapped the belladonna out of my hand, warning me to never touch them again. She made sure I understood just how poisonous they were. Except I never understood how they could be so beautiful… it didn’t make sense how something so beautiful could poison you.”
I frowned.
“I remember she made sure I was listening. Even as a kid, I was a little shit, always trying to be independent, but Deja would never leave me alone. She was my shadow. My mother always harped about how much Deja looked up to me. She used to say I was her hero… our father, he’s never been an affectionate man. He’s always been hard on us, more so on me, but Deja has the shoes she has to fill.”
“What do you mean?”
Still not looking my way, he replied, “She’s promised to a man she’s never met.”
My eyes went wide. “Excuse me?”
That was enough to break the spell he was under. Shifting his stare to me, he stated, “On her twenty-first birthday, she’ll meet him for the first time.”
“Oh my God… is he a Brotherho—”
“The Devereauxs wouldn’t have it any other way.”
I firmly shook my head, adamantly arguing, “No, Onyx. You’re not like them.”
“You’re right. I’m worse.”
“That’s not—”
“My mother made sure I knew that some of the most dangerous things in the world didn’t look dangerous at all.”
Something about the way he said that made me extremely sad for him. Everything he was telling me was devastating.
Poor Deja.
I couldn’t imagine what it’d be like to have to marry someone for anything other than love.
“When I asked her why she would grow something so poisonous in here, especially if it could hurt her…” His jaw clenched, swallowing hard for a second. “She said it didn’t matter how dangerous something is. Knowing that it’s harmful didn’t mean you had to fear it. It just meant you had to respect it.” He reached down, stopping his fingers before he grazed the flowers. “Every time I walked past them, any time we watered them, she’d remind me that beautiful things can still kill you, if you let them.” He looked back at the flower. “I didn’t understand what she meant by that…”
Silence.
His gaze flew to me. “Until now.”
“Onyx…”
He tugged on the ends of my hair. “Until you, Hennessy. It’s quite the coincidence you both share the same name.”