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“Enough…”
“It’s not like anyone has seen him in public with you since that tape came out. Serenity might actually stand a chance.”
I force myself to think past the rising anger and focus on her words. “How do you know about any of that?”
Her eyes narrow on my face, gaze colder than an icicle through the heart. “The same way you figured out how to take over my life. Just a little bit of snooping and a whole lot of asking nosy people the right questions.”
“I didn’t take over your life.”
“Except, you did,” Olivia declares. Her version of the truth is obviously the only one that matters. “But it’s okay, because I’m not even mad. Being you is way more fun, so you’ve really done me a favor. You wanted to be Olivia Pratt so badly, go be her with my blessing.”
Things were never supposed to turn out this way. I want to believe that the sister I remember is buried somewhere underneath the bravado, but the chances of that only seem to get smaller and smaller.
“Maybe I’ll just go to the police myself,” I challenge. “Since no one can tell us apart, anyway.”
She doesn’t so much as blink.
“Then do it. I’m sure the cops won’t ask you any questions that you can’t answer,” she replies smugly. “And I pretty sure making false statements is a crime. You might talk yourself into a cell of your own.”
“You’re letting an innocent person be punished for something he didn’t do.”
“Life’s a bitch. As far as I care, he can spend the rest of his life locked up like an animal.”
Before I have a chance to think through the consequences, I’ve grabbed her arm and shoved her back against the door. My fist is already raised and my other hand balls in the front of her dress by the time that my brain reconnects to the rest of my body and I realize what I’m doing.
“Hit me,” she whispers. “Do it. I can’t wait to walk back in there with a black eye and tell everyone all how Olivia Pratt has officially lost her fucking mind.”
“You’re sick.” I back away, but keep my hold on her arm so she can’t just walk away. “We should be in this together.”
“Says who?”
“We’re sisters—”
“This is the last time I’m going to bother saying it.” Olivia wrenches her arm away hard enough that I’m forced to let her go or grapple with her like a cage fighter. “Leave St. Bart’s, or you’re going to regret it.”
She spins away from me. The doors of the recreation hall practically slam in my face as she shoves them closed behind her. I hear a sudden burst of laughter and loud conversation come from inside the building. Clearly, Olivia was missed while she took a break from her adoring fans to slum it out here with me.
Leave St. Bart’s, or you’re going to regret it.
The only way to read that is for the threat it is.
Chapter Five
I’m left to rot in my cell for the rest of the weekend. My little scuffle with Carson was enough to put the facility on lockdown for forty-eight hours. Thankfully, the other guys in my cell ignore me and I return the courtesy.
It’s Monday afternoon before a guard finally calls my name during the morning roll call and takes me to one of the windowless meeting rooms, where inmates go to talk to their lawyers. No one else has tried to stab me, but judging from the sly looks I get from other guys as I pass their cells, someone will come for me soon.
I have to get the fuck out of here.
The cops didn’t bother to interrogate me after they picked me up from Anton’s house, just dragged me to the local jail for processing. They obviously didn’t care about anything I might have had to say, and I was never offered the chance to talk to a lawyer.
Which is why I’m not surprised when I step into a sterile room to find a guy wearing a thousand-dollar suit sitting at the table. The leather briefcase resting next to him is hand-stitched and imported from Italy. A diamond ring glitters from his pinkie finger as he gestures for me to sit.
This guy is no public defender.
My hands are still cuffed, metal sliding against metal as I take a seat at the table. I jerk my head toward the pane of glass on the wall. I’ve seen enough cop shows to know it’s a two-way mirror. “Anybody listening on the other side of that?”
“Of course not. We have employee-client privilege.”
