“You don’t trust anyone,” Lorcan points out, watching her closely as she places the leaves of several different plants that I’ve forgotten the name of into a glass beaker and pours high proof alcohol over them to extract the active chemical, forming the base of the drug. Later she’ll slowly heat what’s left over in acetone using a glass flask over a water bath. It will take time but eventually the liquid will crystallise, and voila, we have diamonds. Once the process has been honed, she’ll start in earnest.
“I have every reason not to,” I respond tightly.
Lorcan side-eyes me. He knows better than to bring up my past, so he doesn’t. “Except me and Arden, of course.”
“Hmm.”
He knows I trust them both with my life, but that doesn’t mean to say that their behaviour of late hasn’t had me questioning their judgement.
“You’re still pissed about what happened yesterday morning, aren’t you?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I mutter, scraping a hand over my face, biting back what I truly want to say.
“What?” Lorcan asks, dragging his gaze off of Cyn.
“You need me to spell it out for you, Lorcan?” I say, eying Arden as he studies her every movement. This isn’t the first time we’ve watched her make diamonds, and if you ask me it’s as boring as watching paint dry. I don’t give a fuck how she does it, I only care about her getting it done and getting the fuck off our island.
“You’re questioning us where Cyn is concerned, is that it?”
“You’ve forgotten what she’s capable of,” I hiss under my breath.
“I’m fully aware of what Cyn’s capable of, as is Arden.”
I scoff, pushing off from the wall. “And yet this morning you almost drank that shit she was brewing because she smiled at you. She’s fucking with your head, so forgive me if I can’t trust her intentions, or yours for that matter.”
A muscle ticks in Lorcan’s jaw as he looks at me and with a lowered voice says, “You saw that?”
“Yes, I saw.”
“And now you don’t trust me because Cyn is beginning to?”
“You think she trusts you? Come on, Lorcan. She knows who you are. She’s manipulating you, just as much as you’re manipulating her. Her childhood friends were murdered just days ago and we made that happen, and you think that smile was genuine? She fucking hates us, just like she always did.”
Lorcan folds his arms across his chest. “Is this concern for my well-being or do I detect a hint of jealousy?”
“I’m not fucking jealous!” I hiss, hating how my pulse races when Cyn looks over at us both, disturbed by my outburst. Opposite her, Arden frowns.
“Take it outside. Cyn has work to do. She needs to concentrate and you’re distracting her,” he orders curtly, before wrapping his knuckles against the table and drawing Cyn’s attention back to the task at hand.
Briefly she meets my gaze, her blank expression contrasts with the emotion behind her eyes, and in that moment I understand what she’s trying to convey. She’s warning me not to push her, just like she did yesterday morning, but doesn’t she understand, that’s all I ever want to do?
I want to push her into reacting. I want to push her into being loud, and I don’t mean necessarily with her voice, though fuck knows I long to hear it. She’s always been so quiet, so controlled, and yet I know there’s more to her. I’ve witnessed it first-hand several times over the years, and this morning when I knocked the drink out of Lorcan’s hand, I’d seen it once more.
I see it in her eyes now.
That part of her excites me. The wild, uninhibited part of her that only I’ve ever witnessed.
Over the years I’ve wanted to hurt her just so I could bring that other side of her to the surface and drag out the voice I’m convinced she’s desperate to reveal. It’s become an obsession, hearing her speak. I’ve done it too. I’ve hurt her. Over and over again. But each time she’s bested me and her voice remains as mythological as the creature I’ve named her after.
“There’s nothing to take outside,” Lorcan replies, giving my shoulder a squeeze as he throws Arden a tight smile. “I’m going to stay, and Carrick is going to check the office to see if we’ve had any calls or emails from Shylock about his order of diamonds.”
“I am?” I roll my eyes. “Just tell me to leave, and I’ll leave.”
“Carrick,” Arden says. “Leave.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice. I’m gone.”
A couple of hours later, I hear Arden laughing at something Lorcan has said as I step out from the office into the hallway to greet them. Cyn is standing off to their right, heavy shadows painting the pale skin beneath her eyes. She’s exhausted, and apparently neither of them have noticed.
“The Skull Brotherhood are chasing their shipment. They want an expected delivery date,” I say, leaning against the doorframe.
I shouldn’t give a fuck that Cyn looks dead on her feet. I don’t give a fuck, but if they want her to make the volume of drugs Shylock has requested, then they need to at least make sure she’s fit enough to do so. The sooner she fulfils her debt, the sooner we’re free of her. Dragging my gaze away, I force myself to look at Arden who strolls towards me.
“Is that right?” he questions, his smile slipping from his face as he enters the office. “I’ll call him and tell him they’ll be ready when they’re ready,” he adds.
“He gave you shit, did he?” Lorcan asks, whilst behind me Arden picks up the phone and makes the call.
I cock a brow. “Not unless he wants the location of his hideaway shared with his enemies,” I reply, flicking my gaze back to Cyn who sways on her feet. “You should sit down before you fall down.”
She shakes her head, reaching for the wall as her palm rests against the panelled wood.
Lorcan whips his head around, takes one look at her and says, “When was the last time you ate?”
“You don’t know when she ate last?” I ask, scowling, then straightening my features because why the fuck do I care?
“Do you know?” he throws back.
I don’t. I assumed either him or Arden took care of it. “I’m not her fucking butler.”
Cyn huffs out a breath, pushing off from the wall as she glares at us both, then with her nose in the air, like some stuck-up princess who’s had the displeasure of interacting with the paupers of her kingdom, strides down the hall towards the kitchen. I stare after her, wondering how one withering look can make me want to punish her for daring to look at me with such disdain and then punish myself for allowing her to get to me.
“I guess she’s going to rectify that herself,” Lorcan replies, moving to follow her.
“A word,” Arden calls from the office.
“He sounds pissed off,” Lorcan says dryly.
“No shit.” I reply just as dryly.
“A WORD!”
We both step inside the office as Arden looks between us. “Where’s Cyn?”
“Kitchen. Carrick noticed she was looking a bit peaky. I surmised she needed to eat…”