Nodding again, I grab a club. Rip does the same while Thomas hauls around his camera equipment.
They give me a couple of lines to say, the same things I usually do. The cold air doesn’t make it very enjoyable, but neither do Rip and Thomas. I can’t even bring myself to look Rip in the eye.
He notices that, too. I know it because he won’t stop staring at me, trying to pull my eyes to meet his telepathically. Even so, he doesn’t call it out.
Does he also realize how difficult it is to meet his eyes, considering he’s spent all his energy stabbing me in the back?
I swallow the feelings. If I let them get to me, I’ll sob like a fucking baby. I’m mature enough to admit that, but I’ll also do everything in my power to prevent it.
“That was good,” Thomas says. “I think that shot will come out nicely.”
“Not surprised.” I drop the club, letting it smack against the ground. “You’re Rip and Thomas Redgrave, world-renowned social media marketers.”
If I could snap a picture of the way their faces drop when I utter the nameRedgrave, I would. Rip’s body goes stiff, and Thomas’ face turns red as a tomato. I fold my arms across my chest, waiting to see who will speak first.
I didn’t mean to use their real last name. Honestly, it slipped out, but I’m too peeved.
“Prince…”
“Don’t call me that,” I blurt, squeezing my eyes tight. “You don’t get to call me that. Not when you’ve been lying to me.”
Rip takes a step forward, his arm reaching toward me. “Hear me out.”
But I back away, my body revolting with disgust. “There is nothing to hear. It’s the truth. But I get it; it’s part of the business. Still, I wish you hadn’t deliberately gathered dirt to put my sister in jail.”
They stare at me in anticipation of my next words, but I have nothing left to say. What else can I? They were sent to dig up shit on us, and they did just that. That’s my bad, of course. My fault for letting Rip become such a prominent part of my life.
When he gathers I’m done speaking, Rip shakes his head, his eyes brimming with sincerity. “We didn’t put your sister in jail.”
I scoff. “Sure.”
“I’m serious,” he states. Just like his eyes, his tone is sincere. But Rip could be as sincere as can be; I won’t fall for his lies again.
I look to Thomas. His breathing is heavy, and his eyes are bloodshot, as if there’s nothing going on upstairs. Rip nudges his brother, and suddenly he jolts back to life.
“We did a lot of things, Kingsley. And I’m sorry,” Thomas croaks. “We didn’t put Aralynn in jail, and we weren’t tipping off the police. But… but I did do something else…”
My heart drops. If he’s saying none of that was him, then what else can he have possibly done?
“What?” I push, tension rising in the back of my neck.
Thomas stuffs his hands into his pockets and focuses on the ground. He’s biting his lip, an internal battle being fought inside his head. I’m tired of their ridiculous games—they’ve been playing with me for too long. I’m about to tell them that when Rip speaks abruptly.
“I killed Sylvie.”
My head snaps toward him, the surrounding world seeming to crawl as I struggle to process his words.
I must be mishearing things. It’s impossible.
The person who stole my fiancée on our wedding day, the one everyone’s been telling me to find, the guy who made me lose a part of myself—he’s been right in front of me the whole time?
And I’ve been sleeping with him?
Bile rises in my throat, and it takes everything to keep it from spewing out. My limbs are numb, like they’re asleep, and the deadweight is dragging me to the ground. A sharp pain shoots across my tongue, followed by a sudden metallic tang. Shit, I bit it, not even realizing I was doing so.
My body doesn’t know how to react to everything. I never let Sylvie's behavior, when she was alive and acting in ways a girlfriend shouldn't, get under my skin. Then she died, and her passing left me completely devoid of feeling. I was numb, and while feeling nothing isn’t ideal, it meant nothing could hurt me.
I'd trade anything to bring that back because now it's more than just hurt. There is an ache inside of me, but it’s trapped. It has nowhere to go and is confused, like I am. I am lost.
