Broken (The Captive #5.5)(41)

"There you are." His cousin said cheerfully before closing the door behind him and approaching.

"Here I am," he muttered and poured himself another goblet of wine.

Merle stared questioningly at him before sliding into the chair opposite from where he sat. "Would you like to go to the club tonight?"

"No."

Merle folded his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair to study him. "Why don't you just go see the girl?"

His heart twisted in his chest. He shook his head and pushed a goblet of wine toward Merle. "No."

"Atticus…"

"I am getting married, Merle. Genny deserves better than that in her life."

"She could be your mistress."

"No."

"It would be a step up for her Atticus; she would have a better life than the one she has now."

"She doesn't want that," he said.

"Then let her go."

Wine swished over the top of the rim when Atticus slammed his goblet down on the table. "What do you think I am trying to do?" he snarled.

Merle leaned forward in his chair. "I'm not sure what it is that you're trying to do but it's not moving on. Wallowing maybe. I've never seen you like this. I've never seen anyone like this before." Atticus took a gulp of the bitter tasting wine and poured himself another. "If your father were to find out about her…"

"There's nothing to find out about. She was a fling and it's over." The lie of the words was even more unpleasant on his tongue than the wine had been.

"If you say so."

"I know so," he growled. "My father will never find out about her."

"Not from me, he won't," Merle vowed. "I'm concerned about you."

"Don't be." Atticus looked to change the subject when Merle's mouth pinched into a fine line. "I've yet to ask how you feel about your bride."

"She's a beautiful woman and will make a fine match," Merle replied.

Atticus snorted as he drank some more of the hideous wine. Normally the wine was of fine quality but perhaps his taste for wine had become the same as his taste for blood, it was all vile to him now. "I feel like a schoolboy taught to say his lines every time someone asks me the same question," he muttered.

Merle chuckled. "I suppose we are but at least they are both striking women, we could have been stuck with horse faced ones."

"That we could have," Atticus agreed. "Does this wine taste off to you?"

Merle sipped at it and shook his head. "Taste is fine to me."

Atticus stared into his goblet as he stirred the red liquid inside. Tasting the ambrosia of Genny's blood seemed to have ruined him for anything else. He thought he should feel sad, regretful, or maybe even irritated over that thought, but all he felt was the same hollowness he'd felt since they'd parted ways.

"I think what you need is to get back on the horse, or the woman at least." Merle slapped his hand on the table and laughed.

Atticus shuddered at the thought, his gaze slid past Merle's head as he thought over his cousin's words. Maybe that was exactly what he did need. Genny had been consuming his thoughts for weeks now, maybe if he could just find another…

He didn't think it was very likely but at this point he was willing to give anything a chance. He set his goblet down and rose to his feet. "Let's go to the club."

Merle grinned at him as he stood up. "Finally!"

***

Immediately, upon entering the club, Atticus felt like turning on his heel and walking out but he forced himself to put one foot in front of the other. Merle stayed close by his side as they wound their way through the crowd toward the gaming tables. Half-naked women brushed against his arm, their touch was as repulsive to him as the idea of human food, but he forced himself not to recoil. Merle may be willing to keep his secrets but there were nobles and aristocracy in this room that never would.

He would become the most powerful one of them all. If they even remotely suspected the turmoil twisting within him, they would put him down before he could become a threat to them. He suspected that a good number would like to see him put down anyway. None of them liked the idea of someone with more power existing amongst them, but there was a hierarchy in their world and if they began to pick vampires off simply because one was more powerful than another, it would spell doom for them all. If he gave them a reason to put him down though, they would do so with glee and without concern of the repercussions.

And with the way he'd been feeling as of late, they may be right to consider him a threat.

No, he'd gotten very good at keeping the turmoil inside of him hidden from the outside world; they would never know the strain that he was under. Never know his newfound aversion to women and blood. The only one that knew something wasn't right was Merle, and he suspected that Merle only knew a fraction of it. He was going to have to get even better at hiding what was inside of him if he was going to get through this marriage and conceive a child with his bride. Trying to achieve that may take more wine than he'd consumed in the past couple of weeks, but he would get it done.

He settled into a seat at a dice table and immediately began to drink the wine placed before him. Laughter and the moans of sex filled the club, along with the rattling of dice on the tables. The human women and men that were offering themselves to the patrons moved with ease through the crowd. They flirtatiously showed off their assets to each vampire that they passed by. Knowing that he had to keep up appearances, Atticus nodded toward one of the women. The blond draped her arms around his neck as she settled into his lap and pressed her bare flesh against him. He almost pushed her away but he could feel Merle's eyes watching him closely.