Read Online Glass by Suzanne D. Williams - Free Book Online Page B

keep from falling for a man she was never meant to have. Weak, unable to beg him to take her along. Weak, unable to tear herself away. Instead, caught in a vortex of superstition and fantasy, which held her in their grip.
    At the bottom of the stairs, she turned left and walked toward the double doors to the glass room. His footsteps fell behind her. His fragrance. His heat. Still, she didn’t look back, but grasped the knobs and turned. Pushing them open, light flooded out, a splendor reserved for a few of which he was one.
    She ducked her head to avoid his gaze and back ed toward the wall. He paused. He wanted her to look up, but she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t say goodbye.
    “Cerise,” he whispered.
    She pointed inside. “Go. She’s waiting.” And revolving on her heel, she walked away.
     
    ***
     
    The sun’s brilliance in the glass room was more than he could take. Careening from surface to surface, off bottles and jars in a thousand shades, it split and refracted until there was nowhere to escape. He shut his eyes against it finally, allowing his retinas to cool.
    His chosen darkness highlighted his various thoughts. Cerise. What she believed was written in every feature of her face. She believed this was the end. That after this he’d leave and her life would be no better than it’d been. That both she and her mother had found themselves unable to have what they sought.
    But she was wrong. Whatever had caused his dad to try to move on from the loss of her mother was irrelevant to him. He was, after all, half of his mom as much as half of Levi Garner and therefore able to make his own decisions.
    “Mr. Garner.”
    Andre pulled his eyes open and gazed into the aged face of Mrs. Delacroix, and his thoughts changed direction. She showed no sign of dementia, but appeared bright-eyed and sharp. She wore a floral gown with bell-like sleeves. A pink ribbon cinched her waist and a gilt comb shone in her hair.
    “You like the room?” she asked.
    He turned his gaze around the visual spectrum, tallying up the thousands of dollars of glass so perfectly arranged. “It’s amazing.” And it was. It was a glass-lovers paradise, an optical ecstasy of incredible magnitude.
    “I’ m curious though,” he said. “Why would you treasure it so much given the history of your family?” He stated the accusation plain and looked for her reaction.
    Physically, she didn’t react at all, but h er eyes became daggers, stabbing outward. “You speak impertinence,” she said.
    He crossed his arms over his chest. “I speak the truth, something which hasn’t been said here in many years.”
    “Cerise has coddled you.”
    Cerise. She’d used her as a weapon against him, or she’d tried to.
    He blew out a breath, loud and harsh. “Cerise is damaged by it all. You are as responsible for that as anyone else.”
    She mashed her lips into a line. “I’ll have you escorted out.”
    He half-smiled. “You will do that anyway, but only after I agree to design your coup de grace .” Her swan song. Something to one-up all that her husband had sought to obtain. That’s what this was about. Not that she loved the glass, but that she wouldn’t let him be the master of it.
    “You are sure of yourself, so was my husband.”
    He studied her. What exactly did she mean by that? They’d fought, she and her husband, so Cerise had said. Over what? The horrible behavior of their son? Over Mr. Delacroix’s part in his death? She wasn’t likely to reveal the answer, whatever it was.
    He refocused himself. “You brought me here as punishment. You sought to inflict pain on yourself as much as Cerise, and you seek to assuage the curse.”
    How much she believed in such was gauged by her answer. She cackled, a gurgling sound. “The curse? You don’t believe in it.”
    He shook his head. “I believe in curses well enough, but I believe in fear more. Because that is their greatest weapon, and I’m not afraid, of the house, of the glass, of