Lahat ng Kabanata ng Burning For My Husband's Son: Kabanata 41 - Kabanata 50

VEDAThe applause in the ballroom faded, replaced by the quiet scrape of silver forks against finechina.Silas stepped down from the platform, his tuxedo still sharp, his face still hard as stone.He pulled out the chair beside me and sat down.Before the photographer standing a few feet away could lower his camera, Silas reachedover and placed his right hand above mine on the white tablecloth.To anyone watching, it looked tender. It looked like a loving husband comforting his fragilewife.But under the tablecloth, his thumb pressed down on the centre of my knuckles, and hepushed harder, slowly grinding my bones together.A sharp pain shot up my arm.I clenched my jaw so hard my teeth hurt, but I kept my lips in a tight smile. I couldn't pull myhand away. If I flinched, the cameras would catch it."You poor darling," Martha Vance said from across the flowers in the centre of the table,touching her pearl brooch with her manicured fingers."You've been working yourself toohard

ZANEThe heavy oak doors of the master bedroom closed upstairs with a muffled bang that echoed through the entrance hall.I stood in the dark library, watching the empty staircase.My knuckles were white around the heavy glass. The bourbon was gone, but its cheap burn still lingered in my chest. I set the glass on the side table, and the sharp click sounded too loud in the quiet house.My reflection stared back at me from the dark window behind the desk.I looked like hell. My hair stuck out in every direction from where I'd run my hands through it. The left side of my white shirt had come loose from my tuxedo pants and hung over my hip. The top three buttons were torn open, showing the red scrape on my collarbone. Dark stubble covered my jaw, and my eyes were red beneath the dim light.Marcus came through the side door, his boots barely making a sound."Silas just called the front gate," he said in a low voice. "Night patrol doubles at one. And the doctor's van is cleared to enter th

VEDAThe lock clicked open.I squeezed my eyes shut, yanked the thick duvet up to my chin, and forced my lungs to pull slow, shallow breaths. Under the blanket, my fingernails dug straight into my palms until the skin nearly tore.The brass handle turned, and the heavy oak door slowly opened, its hinges groaning softly in the dark.He didn't move right away. For a moment there was only his slow, steady breathing, and the fear of not knowing where in the room he was standing.Cold air crept through the cracked window above the balcony doors—the one Zane had climbed out of—bringing the smell of rain and wet stone with it. Sweat cooled on my skin, and the broken latch was all I could think about. If Silas looked up, he'd see it immediately.His shoes thudded softly against the thick rug as he crossed the room. He didn't turn on the lights. He simply walked to the bed and stopped beside it.The edge of the bed sank as he sat down.I kept my breathing steady, my chest rising and falling in

VEDADull grey light leaked through the curtains, falling across the foot of the bed.The rain had stopped, but the room was freezing. Damp cold filled the air, raising the hair on my arms beneath the heavy blanket.I turned onto my back.Every muscle in my body felt like it had been run over. My ribs ached from spending half the night over the toilet, and the feverish sweat on my skin had cooled into a clammy film across my collarbones. My throat burned, leaving a sour, disgusting taste on my tongue that swallowing couldn't get rid of.I kicked off the blankets and lowered my bare feet to the floor. The cold hardwood sent a shock up my legs.I stood up, my knees shaking for a moment, and walked straight to the heavy double doors.I gripped the brass handle and pulled.Nothing.The door didn't move.I twisted the knob hard to the left, then right, rattling it against the frame. The deadbolt was locked from the other side, keeping the door firmly shut.The gala hadn't been a threat. Th

VEDAThe key turned in the lock with a sharp scrape.The heavy door pushed open, and Silas stepped back into the bedroom, holding it wide.Right behind him was Dr. Bennett.He looked exactly like the doctors I’d expect Silas to hire—neat silver hair parted to the side, rimless glasses, and a long grey wool coat buttoned to his throat. He carried a battered black leather medical case in his left hand, its brass buckles dull with age.He didn't glare at me. He didn't look angry. He looked at me the way an expert looked at a chipped vase on a marble table—mildly annoyed by the damage, but already thinking about what it would cost to fix.Silas didn't leave.He pulled the heavy door shut until the lock clicked softly, then walked to the corner near the wardrobe and clasped his hands behind his back.He stood right over the part of the rug where the two pills were buried beneath the floorboards.My mouth went completely dry. I pressed my back against the pillows and pulled the duvet tighte