Uncovering You 10: The Finale (35 page)

I open my eyes and look at my brother. “I’m sorry,” I say. The words come out flat. “I shouldn’t have yelled.”

He dismisses it with a wave. “Jeremy, I know you love her. But
you
know that every time we administer the counteragent, the chance of it working again in the future is cut in half? You were lucky it didn’t backfire in the operating room when you injected the second dose.”

I sneer. “Oh, just like your fool-proof procedure didn’t backfire?” I know better than to make an enemy of my brother now, but what good is holding my tongue when the stakes are so high? When my Lilly is fading?

“You know that’s different,” Atticus says softly.

I look away. “Yes,” I finally admit. “I do.”

A cold silence sweeps in and fills the room.

I walk to the window and look at the frosty snow outside. “It’s December,” I say. “You told me you would need a month after the operation to judge her prospects of recovery. I’ve given you
four
and you still haven’t told me.” I turn around and look my brother in the eye. “I’m no idiot, Atticus.”

“There is still a chance,” he insists.

I scoff. “A chance? How small? It’s miniscule. You know it, I know it—we both know it.” I turn my eye to the small computer screen, the one with a live camera feed of Lilly’s room. “God,” I whisper. “It kills me to see her like this. She hates me, you know that? It’s no less than I deserve, considering all I’ve done, but still…”

I trail off. I’ve never expressed sorrow or pity before, not before another breathing human, not like this. But sometimes, situations of extreme stress call for extreme measures.

For me, showing weakness—showing humanity—is one of such.

I lock eyes with Atticus. “Please. Please, brother, I’m begging you. Grant me this one small mercy. Let me see her. Just once. Just one more time, that’s all I ask.”

He meets my stare for a long, contemplative moment. As each second stretches the silence further, I pray to fucking God that my approach works.

And then, in a flash of unexpected sympathy, Atticus reaches for the self-inject pen on his desk.

“Ask Jill to do it,” he says. “Lilly… Lilly
trusts
her.”

Chapter Forty-Four

His lustful grunts fill my ears.

“
Yes,
” I beg. “Yes. Give it to me like that. Just like that. Faster. Faster!”

Jeremy complies, doubling the speed of his thrusts into me. I feel the breaking point looming. I need to hold it off. Just a little longer.

I grasp his hair and pull his lips to mine, devouring his mouth with my greedy kiss. I know Jeremy hates it when I take control. But logic is lost in the heat of the moment. There will be consequences later. Right now, I don’t care.

“Lilly. Lilly, I’m going to come…” Jeremy’s words die, replaced by a primal roar that is ripped from his throat as he shoots into me. My body accepts readily. Just like I’ve learned to do, I let the climax wash over me. My core clenches around his cock and shuddery convulsions rock my body.

At some moment in the night, I realize that I’m lying—sleeping—next to Stonehart.

I gasp and jerk away. Revulsion fills every fiber of my being. Sex is one thing, but snuggling…?

My movement wakes him. His dark eyes reflect the dim light.

They look murderous.

I’m struck dumb, unable to decide whether to pretend sleep or move back to him to avoid pissing him off, or just—

Thankfully, he takes the decision out of my hands. With one inscrutable look, he gets up and walks out of the room. He does not utter a word.

I sigh into the pillow, and relieved, fall asleep.

The next morning, the magnitude of my error in letting Stonehart sleep in my bed, slams into me with full force.

He might be developing feelings for me
.

No! I can’t allow that. It would ruin everything. My plans for revenge, my plans for getting back at him, my plans for vengeance…

Feelings that began one sided might easily, insidiously, warp themselves and become…I gasp…
two
sided.

That, I can never allow.

But how to stop Stonehart from—

And then it hits me. There was a clause in the contract. A requirement for me to maintain my current shape, size, and weight.

Well, if Stonehart is developing feelings for me—and why else would he chose to spend the night?—then there’s only one thing I can do to counter it.

I have to make myself wretched.

And so I begin day one of my second-ever hunger strike.

Chapter Forty-Five

I pace around the room, feeling confined, feeling trapped, feeling…
useless.

“She’s not eating.” My voice, usually sure and confident, comes out hoarse and dry. “Why isn’t she eating?”

“She won’t say,” Jill rubs her hands nervously. “I bring her meals. She ignores them. Sometimes… sometimes I catch her playing with a pretend dishware set. She asks me if I’d like a piece of dove as she cuts through the air with an imaginary knife. A dove!”

Atticus glances at me, accusation filling his eyes. “Does that hold any significance?” he asks.

“None,” I lie.

Chapter Forty-Six

One week later.

I’m not losing weight fast enough. I know if I don’t get skinny soon, Stonehart will come back. He’ll come back, and he’ll fall in love, and then
I’ll
fall in love, and then…

Well, I’d rather die than love a monster.

From that day on, I refuse to drink, too.

Five days later. December 20, 2014.

Something cool and wet is brought to my lips. A liquid, thick like oil yet sweet like honey.

A motherly voice whispers in my ear. “Slowly now, Miss Ryder. Your body’s still weak. Small sips, like a hummingbird.”

Water
. It’s water. A drop of it gets in my mouth.

“Just like that,” the kind woman encourages. “Just like that. Oh, Mr. Stonehart is going to be so pleased!”

Hearing his vile name jolts me. I clamp my lips shut, cutting off the trickle of life-giving nectar.

“Miss Ryder, please. Please drink. Please, don’t stop. Oh, Miss Ryder…”

The old woman’s sobs are lost as darkness regains its hold.

Chapter Forty-Seven

I look on at the empty video screen. The love of my life, Lilly Ryder, is scarcely more than skin and bones. Bald, with one eyebrow missing, and the other just starting to grow back.

And she shaves them every chance she gets
, I think miserably.

I feel a hand on my shoulder. I bring my sunken eyes up to look at my brother.

“I promised to protect her,” I say. My voice is no more than a murmur. “I failed.”