You Can Leave If You Want

Alanis's POV:

I was already walking back toward the house when I heard her shift behind me. I turned and saw Penguin trying to curl into herself again.

She had lowered herself back to the pavement like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to follow me. Her knees pulled in; her head bowed.

The oversized shirt she wore slid off one shoulder, and I caught a glimpse of her skin.

Is that bruises I see?

I sighed, not because I cared about her — I did not. But because no one should look like that.

Not this late at night when the dogs had been let loose. They were not trained to attack, but sometimes they were unpredictable.

This place was not exactly friendly after dark.

And she looked… breakable. The kind of breakable that made something ugly twist in your gut if you left it alone.

She was in the house; the guards never let strangers in. So it means she is supposed to be here.

I turned back and walked toward her again. I didn’t reach for her, I just stood a few feet away.

“You coming or not?”

I said intending not to sound too cold, but my voice betrayed me. Still, she did not speak, instead she just looked up at me, and I interpreted her gaze that she meant I’d offered her the chance to live inside a lion’s mouth.

“I’ll have the maids find you something that doesn’t make people talk.”

She still didn’t move, but she stood up slowly, dusting herself off, because that alone might make her less visible. I started walking again, not waiting to see if she followed.

She did.

We were just a few steps from the back entrance when I heard a voice that made my spine tighten.

“Baby, I've been searching everywhere for you.”

I turned just in time to see Penelope step out onto the patio, her phone in one hand, a drink in the other. She looked drunk, her dress was slightly ripped by the side, and her hair messy, but I also noticed the marks on her exposed thighs.

She must have been having a little bit too much fun with some stranger, but I don't really care.

Her voice was syrupy, but her eyes were already locked onto something.

Her whole face changed, I watched her smile drop and her nose wrinkle. Her gaze was on someone past me.

Penguin.

“Wait. What the hell are you doing here?” she said, moving closer.

Penguin stood still. I watched her eyes go wide like she’d been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to. She looked small again, shoulders curling in, hands clutching the hem of her large shirt.

I looked between them, frowning.

“You two know each other?”

Neither of them answered.

“Mr. Alanis,” Penelope said, her voice was higher now, and she was trying so hard to keep its usual sweetness but already cracked at the edges. “Why is she here?”

“I brought her.”

“She wasn’t supposed to come,” Penelope snapped, stepping around me like she didn’t care I was in the way. “I told her not to come.”

“I told her to stay.”

That stopped her for a second. She turned back toward me, blinking. “Why would you do that?”

Did she just question me? I didn’t like the way she asked. Because she thought she had a right to question me.

“Did you just question me?”

I didn’t raise my voice — I never had to. But something in the atmosphere shifted. I felt it, so did she.

Her hand tightened around the glass she was still holding. Her lips were parted but nothing came out for a second.

“No. I—no. I wasn’t—I just meant—”

That’s what I hated about this city. The people. They poked and clawed and questioned—until I so much as looked at them, then their spines disappeared.

She looked back at Penguin, who was still frozen almost like a rabbit in the open. “I just meant to ask if she wants to stay.”

Penelope turned toward her, her voice dripped with concern. “Isn’t that right, Poppy?”

The way she pronounced her name sounded like it was an insult.

I looked at Penguin, expecting her to say yes. Or simply just nod; because that would shut Penelope up for once.

She shook her head.

The hell?

She wasn't even looking at me, her eyes were on Penelope. I reached for her hand, lightly, but she pulled away quickly. As if I burned her.

That hit harder than it should’ve.

I just stared at her. Still, she couldn’t even look at me.

Was she scared of me? Before now, she wasn't; she even looked eager to come with me. So, why now? “Is it me?” I muttered under my breath, half to myself than anyone else.

She didn’t say anything.

Penelope's smile returned. Her eyes were still on Penguin's and Penguin's on hers. I had no idea what was happening, but it didn't seem like it was any of my problem.

I let out a sharp breath. “You can leave if you want.”

I turned and walked back inside, through the kitchen. The maids I passed shifted aside like animals avoiding a predator.

But I knew what they saw on my face.

I was angry; and I didn’t even know why.