Page 28 of Twisted Truths

I have to admit that Obsidian’s comment about my cheap clothing hit a tender spot inside of me, though I hid it. Will it be obvious that I’ve never attended anything like a ball before? That I don’t know how to dance?

“I don’t have feelings for him. The guy is a royal prick. Give me a break, Bast.” I lift my drink and only allow myself a small sip. A large one will confirm to him I’m full of shit.

He studies me for a beat but says, “Good. Keep it that way.”

I roll my eyes. “Fill me in on what’s going on with your lady love.”

Bastion accepts my change of subject, and we chat for the next couple of hours, until he has to go so that he can catch the red-eye back west. He pays the tab at the bar, and we leave together, going out to the side lot where his rental car was last week.

Once again, I pass him the item I stole from Midnight Manor, and he puts it in his own bag and sets it in the passenger seat.

“Should I be worried about you? You seem a little off.” He pulls me in for a hug, and I go willingly.

“I’m fine, Bast. I swear.” I squeeze him back. As much as I wanted some separation from him and my father, I’m realizing how much I’d miss Bastion if he weren’t in my life.

I’m still in his embrace when headlights hit us from the side. I squint and pull away, trying to cover my eyes with my hand to make out who it is and why they’re shining their lights at us.

“What the fuck?” Bastion grumbles.

I can’t make anything out, but I hear the car door open, then the silhouette of a man breaks through the beams of light. When he gets closer, I suck in a breath, realizing it’s Obsidian.

Shit. He caught me. I knew a place like Midnight Manor probably had cameras, but I looked and couldn’t find any. Figured it was because they never have outsiders here so what was the point. I’m sure I didn’t miss any, so did someone see me?

Rage and fury morph every aristocratic feature on Obsidian’s face.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“Could ask you the same thing,” he growls.

My stomach swoops like a bird diving down from the sky. “I didn’t call for a ride back yet.” I sound like a nervous, blubbering idiot.

“I’m your ride. Get in the fucking car.”

Bastion steps forward and opens his mouth to say something, but I turn and widen my eyes at him, giving him a look that tells him to keep his mouth shut.

“It’s fine, Bast. I’ve got this,” I say in a low voice.

Bastion’s hands fist at his sides and his jaw clenches, but he gives me a tight nod. “Text me and let me know you get home okay.”

“Will do.” I give him a wan smile and walk over to the passenger side of Obsidian’s vehicle.

With my hand on the door handle, I wait while Obsidian stares down my brother as if he wishes actual lasers would fire out of his eyes. Only when he walks back toward the car do I open the door and slide inside.

Normally, I’d take a moment to sit in awe of this vehicle that’s worth hundreds of thousands of dollars, but I’m too nervous to gawk. Obsidian slams the car door closed once he’s inside and peels in reverse out of the parking lot. I do my best to give Bastion a reassuring look that all is well, though I don’t believe it myself. But we both can’t be in jail.

What would make Obsidian this angry except knowing I’ve been stealing from him?

Figuring silence is the best course of action, I don’t say anything as he drives recklessly. But when he passes the turnoff to Midnight Manor, I stiffen in my seat, wondering where he might be taking me. Is he going to drive me to the police station? Maybe it wasn’t only Uma I had to be scared of.

I pull at the hem of my dress, wishing I’d worn something other than a cute little sundress tonight. But it was so sweltering when I left, I couldn’t fathom wearing anything else, and Black Magic doesn’t have air conditioning.

Obsidian tracks my movement, and his gaze goes to my legs before he looks back at the road and increases his speed. My heart races as I watch the speedometer go up. It’s dangerous, and though we may be on country roads late at night, if anyone pulled out in front of us, there would be no chance of us avoiding a collision.

“Aren’t you going a little fast?” I ask breathlessly, my chest tight from the anxiety this car ride is giving me.

“Shut up!” he shouts, glancing at me briefly. His dark eyes are filled with anguish and irritation.

When he takes a corner so fast that I’m afraid the door might pop open, and I’ll roll out of the car, I grip his arm. Despite my fear, I can’t help but notice the hard muscles underneath his expensive dress shirt. “Mr. Voss, slow down. You’re scaring me.”

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