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Closing the file, I move toward the kitchen island, where my phone is plugged into the side of it. Sliding it open, I text Conner.
I need you to come over.
Now? It’s midnight, man. Don’t you ever sleep?
Now.
Ugh, I’ll be over in twenty. I have a guest if you cared to ask...
I don’t. And for all I know, I’m saving the girl from an awful night of sex and having to sneak out in the morning. I don’t bother to get dressed, but I do bother to pour a massive glass of whiskey and plop back down into my leather chair.
The fire’s heat is almost too much now, but it reminds me I’m alive when they’re not. The chill of death is in the air tonight, and it’s hard to escape.
“What is the damage, man?” Conner asks, shuffling into the living room and dropping onto the matching leather couch across from me.
I throw the file towards him, and some of the papers fall out and hit the ground. He picks them up, grunting in annoyance before looking them over one by one.
I allow him plenty of time to get to the list and read it, watching for every little detail on his face. He’s as stoic as always, giving nothing away.
Ever the cool, collect character. It’s what Father demanded of us, after all. He was always better at it than I was, though. Mine has always been a mask I wear. One I can drop when I’m alone.
He’s just bred this way. Groomed to be vile and cold.
The mask he wears is warmth, and I watch it slip away as he looks up at me. “And? What do you want me to do with this?”
“Well, I was just wondering what your role was, Conner?”
He packs all the photos and papers back into the file and flings it to the other side of the couch. “What is this, man? An interrogation?”
I shrug. “No. I just want to know how much deeper that night ran. You know, since I don’t remember much. Oh, and who is it you hired to come boost me from the warehouse the other night? Who’s tracking me?”
His brow lifts in confusion, and it seems genuine. But a snake wears many skins. “Warehouse? Look, Em, I know you’ve been a funk for the last few days, but I...”
A ridiculous drunken laugh erupts from me. “Funk? Conner I was kidnapped, chained to a fucking chair, and had a good dose of electroshock therapy given to me. I think my funk is warranted, don’t you?”
Conner stands, blood draining from his face. “What?! Who did that to you? Why are you just now telling me? Let me make some calls.”
That’s when I see it.
He’s my father’s progeny. The onefixingeverything for me. And God only knows how he’s been doing it, or how far he takes it. Because I never cared to look hard enough.
“What did you do, Conner?”
He doesn’t listen, and I stand and slam my whiskey glass down on the floor. “Hang the fucking phone up, Conner!”
A beep sounds as he hits the end button, his eyes flicking to mine. And finally fear cascades through them. And it’s the first time I’ve seen my best friend truly look human.
When I’ve always thought him immortal. Always in control. It’s what I admired about him. His ability to stay calm under any circumstance. Now, I know it’s because he has power. Far too much power.
And I’m about to take it from him.
“Tell me what the fuck your role that night was, Conner. And don’t leave any details out. Because I need to know what I did, and I need to know everything.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE
Carina
Ihaven’t worked since coming back from the warehouse. I mean, in all honesty, once you’ve tortured your boss while he’s chained to a chair, I don’t think he expects you to come back to work. I grumble and cover my face, and Tigger meows as he jumps onto the couch and brushes against me. Sitting back, I let my legs fall open. Tigger crawls into my lap, making himself comfortable as he kneads my leg with his nails.
