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“Okay,” Kyrin says, agreeing.
“Yeah, done.”
This time when my eyes meet Keaton’s, they’re softer around the edges. “Bleed all of the answers out of him.”
Keaton’s thumb grazes the edge of my lip and I ignore the quiver that snakes down my spine, shoving away from him. “Done, baby.”
I’ll touch on the pet names later.
Pushing up from the sofa, I look directly at King. “I want the second crew to stay on. Regardless of whatever Kaius was cooking up, I can’t be around any of you right now, and I’d rather be with them than be here with any of you.”
“—Cartier—” I throw my hand up, stopping Kyrin’s next words.
“—I don’t want to fucking hear it.” Kyrin steps backward, but Keaton stays close.
“You can’t just go in the middle of something we don’t know or understand, Cartier. This is bigger than what has happened here, and we need to keep this in-house.”
“Kyrin.” I bring my eyes to his. “I love you, but right now, I don’t trust you.” I look up to Keaton. “Any of you.”
Keaton remains passive. “You do whatever you got to do, but know that if and when I think you should be home, I’m dragging you back here whether you’re protesting or not.” He leans down until we’re at eye level, his nose barely touching mine. “And I think you and I both seem to remember how good I am at that, right?”
I don’t satisfy him with an answer when I turn to leave. The way I see it—this is their problem. I’m not like the others. I don’t make excuses for their behavior, nor do I take blame for their own stupid decisions, because unlike them, I’m better at keeping secrets.
