Unveiled (Page 64)

This is all I need. He’s not giving me up and I’m not letting him go. Not even for my mother.

‘She’s mine,’ Miller states coolly, calmly, and confidently. ‘Not even you will rob her from me.’ His almost unreasonable promise fills me with hope. ‘Take me on, Gracie. I fucking dare you.’ He turns and strides out of the Society, me coiled around him like a scarf – a tightly knotted scarf that will never be undone.

‘You have to let go now,’ Miller murmurs into my hair when we reach his car, but I answer only by squeezing him tightly and moaning into his hair. ‘Olivia, come on now.’

Sniffing back my subsiding tears, I peel my wet face from his neck, keeping my eyes on the sodden collar of his crisp white shirt. My makeup has rubbed off on it. There’s mascara and pink blush mixed and embedded into the expensive material. ‘It’s ruined,’ I sigh. I don’t need to see him to know a frown has just appeared on his handsome face.

‘It’s fine,’ he replies, confusion rich in his tone, confirming my previous thought. ‘Here, jump down.’

I relent and detach myself from his tall frame with his assistance, then stand before him, eyes dropped, not wanting to face his perplexity. He’ll demand an elaboration on my nonchalance. I don’t want to elaborate, and no amount of demanding will make me. So it’s simply easier to avoid his probing stare. ‘Let’s go get Nan,’ I practically sing, pivoting and making for the passenger side, leaving Miller behind, unquestionably confused. I don’t care. As far as I’m concerned, what just happened never happened. I slip into the seat and shut the door, making fast work of getting my belt on. I’m dying to get to Nan, desperate to take her home and start helping with her recuperation.

I ignore the heat of his eyes on me when he slips in beside me, choosing to reach forward and flick the stereo on instead. I smile when M83’s “Midnight City” blasts from all of the speakers. Perfect.

After a good few seconds have passed and Miller still hasn’t started his car, I finally pluck up the courage to face him. I smile brighter. ‘Chop-chop.’

He barely contains his recoil. ‘Livy, what . . .’

I reach up and push my fingertips to his lips, immediately shutting him up. ‘No them, Miller,’ I start, tracing my way to his throat when I’m certain he’ll let me continue without interruption. His Adam’s apple rolls under my touch when he gulps. ‘Just us.’ I smile and watch as his eyes narrow in uncertainty, his head moving from side to side slowly. Then he returns my smile with a small one of his own and takes my hand to his mouth and kisses it tenderly.

‘Us,’ he confirms, broadening my smile. I nod my thanks and reclaim my hand, getting comfortable in the leather seat, my head dropped back, my eyes staring up at the ceiling. I do an incredible job of centring my thoughts on one thing and one thing alone.

Nan.

Seeing her lovely face, listening to her spunky words, feeling her squidgy body when I take her in a fierce hug, and relishing in the time I’ll get to spend with her while she’s recovering. It’s my job. No one else’s. No one else gets the pleasure of all of those things. Just me. She’s mine.

‘For now I’ll respect your request,’ Miller muses as he turns the engine over, and I look out the corner of my eye to see him doing exactly the same to me. I quickly divert my stare forward, ignoring his words and his look, which tells me I’m not going to be basking in ignorance for long. I know this, but for now I have the perfect distraction and I’m going to throw myself into it completely.

The hospital is horribly hot and stuffy, but crazily a source of calm. My feet march on with resolve, like my body has cottoned on to my ploy and is assisting me in reaching the object of my distraction plan without delay. Miller hasn’t said a word since we pulled away from the Society. He’s left me to my thoughts, which have been blocking anything that may tarnish the elation I’m depending on once I lay my eyes on my grandmother. His palm is wrapped securely around my nape as he walks beside me, his finger kneading softly into my flesh. I love how he knows what I need, and I need this. Him. And Nan. Nothing else.

We round the corner into Cedar Ward, and I immediately hear the distant cackling of Nan, making that elation I was depending on soar. My pace picks up, eager to make it to her, and when I enter the bay of beds where I know her to be, every lost piece of me clicks right back into place. She’s sitting in her chair, fully dressed in her Sunday best, with her huge carpetbag resting on her lap. And she’s hooting bursts of laughter at the TV. I relax under Miller’s hold and stand watching her for the longest time, until her old navy eyes pull from the screen and find me. They’re all watery from her laughter, and she reaches up and brushes the hysterical tears away from her cheeks.

Then her smile disappears and she scowls at me, making my delight run and hide and my happy heart quicken, but now in worry. Does she know something? Is it written all over my face? ‘About time!’ she squawks, aiming the remote control at the screen and zapping it off.

Her harshness restores that happiness in a second, and my fears that she may know something is off disappear. She must never know. I refuse to risk her health further. ‘I’m a half hour early,’ I say, taking Miller’s wrist and lifting it to look at his watch. ‘They said four.’

‘Well, I’ve been sitting here getting a numb arse for the past hour.’ She frowns. ‘Have you cut your hair?’

‘Just a trim.’ I reach up and pat it down.