Page 20 of Twisted Truths

I hook my purse on the back of my chair, the contents within feeling like a homing beacon for everyone in this bar. “Of course I can. I have no choice. How’s Dad? Staying out of trouble?”

He sighs. “Mostly.”

My eyes narrow. “What’s that mean? You’re supposed to be keeping an eye on him.”

Bastion rolls his eyes. “You know what he’s like. He can’t help himself.”

“What kind of scam is he running now?” I lean back in my seat with my arms crossed, unimpressed.

He waves off my concern. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll keep him in check. You just do what you have to do.”

Though I don’t like it, he’s right. I have enough to deal with here. I have to trust that Bastion won’t let our dad get in any deeper than he already is.

A weary feeling sets in my bones. Will this be the rest of my existence? Forever trying to keep my father from doom of his own making?

“You want a drink?” Bastion asks, getting up out of his chair.

“Just a beer.”

He walks to the bar, and when I glance over, I see that it’s taken him about fifteen seconds to flirt with the bartender. No surprise there. Bastion is a charmer. It’s part of what makes him so successful in running scams.

He returns a couple of minutes later and slides a bottle of beer in front of me before taking his seat. He lifts his beer to his lips. “So, what’s your new boss like?”

I shrug, picking at the label on the beer bottle. “A bit of a dick. It’s clear he doesn’t want me there, but I can handle him.”

“What the hell does a billionaire have to be a dick about?” Bastion shakes his head and takes another swig of his drink.

“Who knows, and who cares. I just need to stick it out long enough to pay off Dad’s debt.” I don’t want to talk about Obsidian Voss anymore. He’s on my mind enough as it is. “How’s it going with your lady love?”

Bastion sets his beer on the table and grins. “Good. She got me an expensive watch for our three-month anniversary.”

“How come you’re not wearing it?” I bring the beer to my lips.

“Sold it. Can’t let you take all the glory, you know.” He winks.

The warmth that hits my heart because he’s helping me says how fucked up a childhood we had. But Bastion has my back, and he always will.

“What are you going to say when she asks where it is?”

He lifts his beer off the table. “Gonna say it’s too nice to wear, makes me nervous I’m going to lose it. Then I’m going to tell her the house was broken into, and someone stole it.”

“You think she’ll buy it?” I’m doubtful, but who knows? Bastion is really that good.

“She will when I distract her with my face between her legs.” He laughs while I wrinkle my nose in disgust.

“Gross.” I take a large draw from my beer. The last thing I want to think about is the reason why Bastion is so successful in siphoning off rich women’s money.

We chat for a while about other stuff, and I notice Bastion’s gaze flicking over my shoulder a few times during our conversation.

“What are you looking at?” I look over my shoulder.

“A bunch of SUVs keep rolling through town. They all look the same—black, blacked-out windows, expensive. What’s with that?”

I turn to face him again and shrug. “No idea.”

The bartender comes over—probably because there aren’t a lot of people here tonight, and she wants more attention from Bastion. “Did you two want another round?”

“Hey, sweetheart, what’s with all those SUVs driving through town?”

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