Uncovering You 5: Confessions (10 page)

The excitement is palpable in Paul’s entire demeanor. He’s practically shaking with joy. But why? Why is he so happy to see me?

And if he is, how come he still hasn’t met my eyes once?

“I keep all my promises, Paul,” Stonehart says calmly. “No matter the type of people I make them to.”

Paul flinches at that. There is some sort of hidden dynamic between the two men that terrifies me. Being in this small room, with Paul, with Stonehart, terrifies me. But I am caught, just like a butterfly in a net.

Paul looks up at Stonehart again. Nervously, his eyes dart to me. My heart is beating so hard I’m afraid it’ll rip free from my chest. Paul takes one step forward, cautious, in my direction. Then he adds one more.

“Nuh-uh,” Stonehart says. He taps the side of his neck, just beneath his ear. “Careful now.”

Paul stops immediately and turns a pasty white. Even whiter than before. His eyes fill with terror as he looks at Stonehart. Unconsciously, his hands move to his own neck.

He swallows, and turns the turtleneck of his sweater down in one anxious motion.

That’s when I see it. Beneath his sweater, I see…

A thin, black, seamless piece of plastic. Just like mine.

I gasp. My mind spins. I feel faint.

Paul has a collar, too. I am not the first person Stonehart has done this to.

If Stonehart notices my reaction, he gives no indication of it. He simply continues speaking, perfectly in control, as if this was the most normal encounter in the world.

“Did you know today is Christmas Day, Paul?” Stonehart asks. “Have they told you that, in here? Do you keep track of time?”

“Christmas Day,” Paul repeats, his words deathly hollow. “Yes. Yes, of course I do.”

“It’s customary to exchange gifts on such occasions,” Stonehart says. “Do you have something prepared for me?”

“I—yes, yes. I do. I have just the thing.” He turns back on us and hurries to his desk. He pulls open the top drawer and rummages through it, muttering to himself and shaking his head the entire time. He shuts it with a bang and attacks the one underneath.

The noises he’s making intensify, getting louder, becoming angrier, until suddenly, with absolutely no warning, they cut off. He exhales a long, contented sigh of relief, and cradles something closely in his arms. Then he stands up straight and turns around.

“Now, don’t laugh,” he says. He looks only at Stonehart. His words are only for Stonehart. After the casual warning, it’s like I don’t exist to him anymore. “I made it especially for you. I had a feeling I’d be seeing you soon.” He chuckles. “And my premonitions always come true.”

Except, Paul isn’t holding anything. His arms are empty. He approaches Stonehart, only a tiny bit wary, and hands him the imaginary gift.

“Hmm,” Stonehart says. “Forgive me for asking, Paul, but I’m not quite sure what this is.”

Paul looks absolutely scandalized. “It’s a Christmas sweater,” he says defensively. “Don’t you see the patterns? I sewed them on the front just for you.”

“Ah,” Stonehart smiles. “I’m sorry. I must have had it inside out.”

“Well. See that you don’t when you put it on, you silly goose, you!” Paul giggles. The horrible feeling in my stomach is just continuing to grow. Paul is broken. He is utterly, completely broken.

“Try it on, please,” Paul urges. “I want to see what it looks like on you.”

“Very well.” Stonehart stands. “Lilly, will you hold my jacket for me?” He begins to unbutton the front. “I would hate for my tuxedo to get wrinkled.”

I glare at him, hatred filling every single cell of my body. Stonehart is responsible for Paul’s condition. I am certain of it.

“No,” I say, defiant and angry. “I refuse to be part of this charade any longer. Not until you tell me what’s going on!”

Stonehart hisses a curse. Paul’s eyes go wide. And then, the most incredible thing happens.

Paul collapses to the floor and starts to cry.

Stonehart grabs my elbow and yanks me up. His grip is tight enough to bruise. I try to squirm free, but he’s so much stronger that I am. His eyes burn with fury.

He marches us to the door, stepping wide around Paul. He brings his wrist near the magnetic strip. The embedded entry scanner reads his biometric NFC chip and the mechanism works to open the door.

He thrusts it open and shoves me through. Before closing the door, he turns back to Paul and growls, “Compose yourself.”

We’re alone in the hallway when Stonehart turns to face me. He looks furious. Beyond livid. This is worse than I saw him when he found the dove.

He opens his mouth to speak—or likely, yell—then closes it again. He takes a breath. In through his nose, out through his mouth.

And that’s all it takes for him to regain his composure. His eyes are still alight, but his words are icy cold.

“Did you not see,” he says to me, “how
delicate
Paul’s condition is?”

“Did you do it?” I erupt at him. I don’t have his degree of self-control, or the years of experience honing my emotions. All I know is that mine are raging like wildfire. “Did you do that to him? Is he like that because of
you
?”

Stonehart at least has the decency to look shocked. Only for a brief moment, and barely enough for any but the most discerning observer to notice, but he does react to my accusation. Maybe there is a trace of humanity left under his masks, after all.

“No, Lilly,” he scoffs. “Whatever power you attribute to me, you let your imagination carry too far. I cannot do that to a man.”

Liar!
I want to scream. I just
know
Stonehart is responsible. It’s a knowledge that comes from deep in my bones, from the very depths of my soul.

Instead, I turn the table on him. “Why did you bring me here?” I demand. “Why did Paul react that way when you told him my name? Why is he afraid to look at me?”

“Certain habits have been ingrained very thoroughly in our mutual friend,” Stonehart explains levelly. “Respect and obedience are two of them. That is why he will not look at you without my express permission. As for his reaction? I was hoping he could tell you himself. Now, who knows how long it will take for him to recover.”

Stonehart’s eyes bore into me. He’s challenging me to a fight. I know he does not want me to be meek, not when it’s so clear how riled up I am.

“So what?” I snap. “You didn’t warn me. You gave no indication of how you wanted me to behave. For all your
planning,
Jeremy, it looks like this time things backfired on you.”

A thin smile touches his lips. “Is that what you think? That I would let a little hurdle like this derail what I came here for? No, Lilly. We will achieve everything I intend with Paul tonight. Your little outburst in the room, however, will delay us. We might miss dinner.”

“Oh, so that’s still on the table?” I bark. “I have a hard time believing your greatest concern is missing a single meal. In fact, I don’t even think you
had
a dinner planned. You just told me so to make me lower my guard, so that I would be caught completely unaware when you brought me here, instead.” I glare at him. “That’s the way of things, isn’t it, Jeremy? I’m not blind or deaf. Nor am I stupid. I know how much these little mental games mean to you. You revel in the thrill of controlling, of manipulating others. Regular human interactions are a foreign concept to you. I know enough to know that you couldn’t have built Stonehart Industries into the behemoth it is today were you just an ordinary man.”

My heart is racing. Blood is pounding in my ears. My entire body is tight and tense with a mixture of adrenaline, anger, defiance, and… courage.

Courage is what allows me to speak my mind like this. Seeing Paul in there, seeing the miserable creature he has become has brought all my resolve back to the surface. I
will
challenge Stonehart. I
will
engage. I will make him see that, if he wanted a passive victim for his cruelty, he chose the wrong damn girl.

The only way I know to affect him is to make him see that, too. To reveal his actions, his own character to him, without a softening lens. To make him consider everything he’s done from the perspective of somebody else.

“And you’re not ordinary, Jeremy,” I accuse, venom lacing every word. “You are a monster. A sociopath. It should be you in that fucking room—” One hand flies out to stab a finger at the doorway. “—not Paul.”

Stonehart, for what it’s worth, faces my tirade without a glimmer of emotion marring his face. His poker mask is back, and that makes him impossible to read.

I glare at him, waiting for him to say something. Waiting for him to respond. Waiting to find out what my punishment will be for so clearly stepping out of line.

“So,” he says after an endless, long, tense moment. “Finally, it seems you appreciate some of the finer qualities in me.” One corner of his lips twitches up in a crooked smile. “I was wondering how much longer that would take.”

My jaw drops. There is no explosion. No violent reaction. I just assaulted Stonehart with the most poisonous words that would come to me, and his response is to be…
amused
?

“What—"

He lifts a finger. Only one, but the simplicity of that motion speaks louder than words. I cut off.

“Don’t press your luck,” he warns. “I want you to take a silent minute to compose yourself. Then we can risk going back in there. And Lilly? Tread carefully. Wait until we’re
outside
before speaking your mind again.”

I narrow my eyes at him. What’s he hinting at?

“I’m not going back,” I say, crossing my arms. “I—”

“Two.” Stonehart’s voice is soft and slices through my protest like a frosted blade. He lifts a second finger. “I’ve been very generous with you, Lilly-flower. As proof of my new intentions. But if you think of testing my desires a third time tonight… the result will be very unpleasant. For us both. I don’t want to backtrack with you again. I hate wasting my time.”

He takes a large, menacing step toward me. I feel like I should run, but my feet are rooted to the spot.

Without warning, his hand juts out and grabs my hair. He jerks me into him, puts his other hand on my ass, and kisses me.

I try to break away, but he has an iron grip. His kiss is harsh, uncompromising, and heated.

He lets go after only a few moments. I stagger away, unsteady from the assault.

“Gods,” he breathes. “You know how I love seeing that spunk in you, Lilly. Nobody else, anywhere in my life, gives me that.”

I huff and turn away, but I can’t pretend that I’m completely unaffected. Even though I fought it, that short kiss did something to me, too.

I guess passion is greatest when emotions run high. I’m not going to forget that in the future.

After giving me time to adjust my hair, Stonehart steps to the door. “Ready?” he asks. “At my side, Lilly. Now.”

I avoid looking at him as I walk over.

“Good,” he says, then leans in close to my ear. “Obedience is good when you know I need it. We’re going to step inside once more. This time, watch what you say.”

He swipes his wrist by the handle, the lock clicks open, and he leads me in.

Paul is… sitting on the bed, facing away from us, exactly the same way as when I first saw him. Nothing about the room gives any indication that a disturbance has occurred. The bed sheets are flat, smoothed over where Stonehart and I sat.

“Paul,” Stonehart says. “You may rise and greet your guests.”

Paul stands. There’s a stiffness to the motion. He turns around and stares at us. His eyes are empty once more.

“Paul,” Stonehart coaxes. “It’s good manners to say hello.”

“Hello,” he echoes, listless and hollow as ever.

“And to apologize for your previous behavior.”

Paul’s eyes go to the floor. “I’m sorry.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“It is forgiven!” Stonehart announces. At his words, Paul looks up again, anxious as a newly-trained pup.

“Will you invite us to take a seat?”

“Oh! Yes, yes. Please. Please, sit down.” Paul steps away from the bed to give us room. “I’m afraid I wasn’t expecting you again, Doctor Telfair. I did not set the kettle. We’ll have to wait for the water to boil…”

He trails off and wrings his hands. “That’s probably not good manners, either,” he mutters, ashamed.

“You don’t need to worry about that. Lilly and I won’t be staying long.”

“Lilly?” he repeats, sounding astounded. “Lilly’s here?”

“Yes, Paul. She is.”

“Can I… Can I see her?”

Stonehart gives a miniscule nod. “You may.”

And for the first time, Paul shifts his gaze to me. He looks at me. Really at me.

“Lilly,” he says. My name on his lips sounds almost like a prayer. He steps toward me, and brings a trembling hand to my cheek. There are tears in his eyes.

“My daughter.”