Free Cursed by Nicole Camden Page B

away. “We are definitely getting a massage today before we try on costumes for the party.”
    Max’s eyebrows gathered together at the mention of the Halloween party, but he didn’t say anything. He took a piece of bacon off a plate near the stove and ate it as he stood next to the island.
    Lille sat across from Jordan and Kim, who wasn’t recording for once, but she did have a digital camera, and she snapped a picture of Lille as she sat down at the table.
    â€œNice outfit,” was her only comment.
    Lille gave her the finger and hoped that John and Mary planned on bringing the coffee over pretty quickly.
    By the time everyone had taken a seat—Mary and John sat at the barstools in the center island—thirty minutes had passed, and Lille, who was more than a little tired after the events of the evening, had drunk two cups of coffee. She wasn’t particularly hungry, though, and just picked at her bacon and eggs.
    â€œSo,” John announced between bites of eggs, “I think Lille has something to tell us.”
    Lille froze. She’d told Mary and John about her father, and of course Carl knew, but she didn’t see why everyone had to know.
    â€œYou and Max are engaged?” Carl suggested, and Max smacked him upside the head.
    â€œWouldn’t that be interesting,” John murmured. “Lille?”
    Lille dropped her bacon and turned to look at him. “Why, John? That has nothing to do with last night or yesterday afternoon, for that matter.”
    â€œMaybe not, but since the videos garner us so much attention, good and bad, it’s better if all the cards are on the table,” John argued firmly, pointing his own piece of bacon at her.
    Lille shook her head and turned back to the group at the table, avoiding Max’s curious gaze. “My real name isn’t Lille Marceau,” she threw out, shaking her head, her mouth dry. “It’s Sarah. Sarah Wells.”
    â€œSeriously?” Kim asked. “Where the fuck is my camera?”
    â€œYou can’t record this. Or say anything, though I guess that doesn’t fucking matter anymore, does it?” she muttered for John’s benefit.
    â€œLille, what the fuck?” Max asked, touching her elbow.
    She shook him off and finally met his eyes. “I ran away from my father when I was young. Fourteen. He’d just been let out of prison. My mom was a whore in Vegas, and my father was a Russian gangster’s son. I’ve been running ever since.”
    â€œHoly shit.” Jordan was wide-eyed, his face pale. “Seriously?”
    Lille nodded and looked away from the astonishment in Max’s face. “John wants me to tell you . . . because of last night.”
    â€œI don’t understand. What does last night have to do with your father?” Max looked at her as if he’d never seen her before.
    Lille straightened her shoulders. “Nothing. At least, I don’t think they’re connected. Just that it was my past come back to haunt me, you know? My father has been trying to contact me recently. He’s found out who I am somehow, and even though it doesn’t seem as if he means me any harm, so far, John wants all of you to know.”
    â€œSo we can be on the lookout,” Jordan gathered, and Lille nodded.
    No one said anything for a few minutes; the sound of the birds chirping outside was the only noise.
    Lille stood. “I’m going to go get showered and changed. Carl, Mary, I’ll be ready in thirty minutes.” She looked at Max, who was still sitting at the table, his eyebrows drawn together in a frown.
    â€œHave a good day,” she told him lamely, and turned away, walking through the living room and into her bedroom, where she closed and locked the door behind her.
    She sat down carefully on her bed, holding her stomach like a woman who’d been gut-punched.
    Not two seconds later, a knock pounded. Max.
    â€œLille,