Page 106 of Wicked Little Secret
“I’m already involved. The night in Jackson Wicker’s penthouse saw to that.”
Shaking my head, I laugh at how absurd it is. “You can’t help me.”
“Too late. How about we order Thai and you can tell me all about your plans for Heather Driscoll?”
He hardly waits for my answer before he’s getting out of bed. Peaches leaps onto his shoulder, where she remains affectionately perched and meowing. I sit up in shock watching Theron Adler walk out of my bedroom in his boxers to refill her bowls and then order us some takeout.
I’m even more stunned thirty minutes later when the paper bags are delivered on my doorstep and we settle down in the kitchen to eat over discussions of revenge.
I’m not sure whether to laugh or cry. No one has ever been so supportive, so open to backing me up, that it terrifies me. Vaguely, in the back of my mind, I’m reminded how this will only complicate things.
This could backfire on me.
And how, as I seek revenge for the past, no one else poses a threat like Professor Theron Adler. He very well could be my demise…
21
THERON
THIS LOVE - CRAIG ARMSTRONG AND ELIZABETH FRASER
Nyssa stands aloneamong a sea of people. They crisscross about the crowded sidewalk with places to be. The Christmas Market has finally started in Castlebury, which means every night is a festive, brightly lit celebratory occasion.
As people rush off to check out the snowmen display or grab a hot beverage from a street vendor, Nyssa’s much more patient. She wanders at a calmed, almost subdued pace. Beanie and scarf keeping her warm in the early December frost, she’s in no rush.
Neither am I.
I track every step at a distance. I pause and admire her as she converses with a vendor selling Christmas tree trinkets. The two exchange cash and warmth invades my chest.
Something tells me it was a small gift for her mother. Some kind of spontaneous purchase for someone she loves.
Nyssa maneuvers the rest of the crowds with ease, slipping in and out between them. I follow the mustard-yellow knitted cap that’s been shoved over springy curls that stillpoke out. The crowds of the Christmas Market soon dissipate as the cobblestone street winds into another.
The gas lamps do their best to light up the space, though shadows persist, long and heavy. At the end of the curving road is the Castlebury Observatory, a large domed structure built of glass and limestone earlier last century.
You’d think, on a night so dark out, it would be as full as the markets. You’d be wrong.
I enter several paces behind Nyssa, swallowed up by the dark interior.
Every so often, a straggler passes us by. Usually on their way out while we’re headed deeper inside.
My pulse thrums in obsessive anticipation. The intensity of it sets my teeth on edge.
This can’t be normal. It can’t be like anything anyone else has felt. No one would understand as I follow Nyssa Oliver deeper into the dark, domed building and the heart inside my chest feels like it’s beatingforher.
How can I make her understand how I feel?
In a short few weeks, I’ve fallen in a way I vowed I never would. I promised I wouldn’t allow it after…
Nyssa finally comes to a halt in front of a telescope, her dark silhouette backlit by the blue tint in the domed room. I wander toward her until I’m coming up at her side in front of a different telescope.
Two strangers who are not-so-strangers hovering virtually in the dark by each other’s side. Her head keeps straight as she bows it for a glance into the telescope.
“I hoped you were behind me.”
“Always.”
“I didn’t see anyone we know.”