Total pages in book: 767
Estimated words: 732023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 3660(@200wpm)___ 2928(@250wpm)___ 2440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 732023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 3660(@200wpm)___ 2928(@250wpm)___ 2440(@300wpm)
My hands pause in their path through the clothes. I pull out the black dress, a flush warming me. The fabric hangs awkwardly on the hanger, but there’s something about it…
I wander over to one of the standing mirrors and hold the gown against me. It’s an asymmetrical line, sloping down across my body. Ruffles of black silk line the top. It’s simple and dramatic all at once, and the way it’s cut will emphasize the violin I’ll hold. It falls to the floor, approximating the more formal gown that a classical musician would wear, but with a high slit, befitting a popular music stage.
“Perfect,” Laney breathes. “You have to get it.”
“For the tour, right?”
“Well, sure, but you should wear it where Liam can see you. Maybe tomorrow.”
Tomorrow is my birthday. Which means that at midnight Liam North will cease to be my court-ordered guardian. I make a face, trying to act like it’s no big deal. “We don’t have any big plans.”
There’s a pang in my chest, because we usually do something for my birthday. A nice dinner at the country club in Kingston or the latest hipster foodie restaurant in Austin. Liam will hand me a birthday card that’s completely impersonal, in which he’s signed his name—that’s it.
We’ve done it for the past six years, so I just assumed… well, I suppose he doesn’t owe me that. After all he’s done, he doesn’t owe me anything.
“Hey,” Laney says, hugging me from behind. She gives me a small smile in the mirror. “Everyone is safe and sound, remember? They’re only taking a nap.”
I force a smile. “Of course they are. So let’s pick out something for you. You are going to come to the opening night, aren’t you? I’ll have the moody musicians all lined up to meet you.”
We look through racks for a few minutes, getting separated in the maze of old clothes, only the sound of hangers scraping across metal filling the air.
A sound comes from behind me, and I whirl, looking at the sea of colors, a thousand different fabrics and colors. It would be so easy to hide in here. The thought whispers through my brain. My heart pounds, and I take a step back.
Footsteps land heavy on the stairs, coming up toward us. For a second I think we’re under attack, that someone dangerous is here.
Josh appears at the top of the stairs. “You girls ready?”
My breath still comes fast as I stare at him. I glance over my shoulder, but the riot of fabric looks the same. I must have imagined it. Living in the headquarters of North Security has probably made me paranoid. We check out at the registers downstairs.
As we get into Josh’s truck, I glance at the upstairs window, where it looks like a shadow moves. Unease floods through my veins in staccato.
Chapter Twenty
Before the nineteenth century, the violin bow was shaped like a hunting bow
LIAM
Moonlight streams through the open window. Something must have woken me up. I check my phone, but there are no missed calls. It could have been a nightmare. Then I hear the strains of the violin drift through the crack in the door. I double-check the time.
Ten minutes to midnight.
She’s only my ward for another ten minutes. Christ.
I pull on some jeans and head toward the music, not sure what I’ll say when I get there. She used to wake up in the middle of the night to play, when she first got here. There was no sense of a normal schedule for her. She ate and slept and breathed on her father’s wishes. I tried to instill a sense of normalcy, tried to show her what it was like to have a stable home, tried to… oh hell, whatever I tried, that’s over now.
She usually wears her school uniform when she plays. Or jeans and a T-shirt. Something comfortable to last the hours she’ll sit in roughly the same position.
But she’s not wearing anything like that now.
Instead she’s in a black dress that I’ve never seen before. My throat goes dry. She looks like someone else, like a grown woman. A sensual woman.
My body reacts suddenly, violently.
I force myself to walk into the room, to pretend like this is a thousand other times from the past, that she’s still a child and I’m her guardian. Even though the seconds tick away with every breath.
“What’s that?” I crouch down in front of her.
There are fifteen major violin scales. An almost infinite number of concertos and sonatas. I know almost all of them by heart. They are embedded into my skin, etched deeper with every afternoon of careful practice.
This one I don’t recognize.
A blush steals over her cheeks. “Nothing.”
The dress has a high slit, exposing one perfectly shaped leg. It would be so easy to push her knee open, to draw my fingers up the inside of her thigh. I rest my hand on her other knee, the one that’s covered by black silky fabric.