Page 7 of Twisted Truths

“I didn’t save his life so I could get a reward from him. I didn’t even know who he was when I saved him.”

My dad smacks the empty bottle down on the worn coffee table and stands. “Ari, you’re the one who got yourself into this situation, not me. But now that you’re in it, you gotta play it for what it’s worth, kid.”

I shake my head. “I told you. I’m done with manipulating people and taking advantage of them.”

“What manipulation? You saved the guy’s life, didn’t you? You deserve something for that.”

“No, I don’t.” I start down the hallway toward my bedroom. “I just did what anyone would do.”

“Do you have any idea what we could do with the amount of money a man like him could give you?” He follows me down the hall, stopping in the doorway.

“I’m not reaching out to him. Besides, there’s no way to even prove it was me. There’s probably a bunch of people coming out of the woodwork saying they’re the ones who saved him for the exact reason you mention.” I stand in front of my mirror and unbraid my long red hair so I can get into the shower.

“Hadn’t thought of that.” A quick glance at my dad lets me see the concern on his face. “Still worth a try though.”

“No, it’s not.” I finger-comb my hair and turn back to the mirror.

“Ari, you gotta at least try. Where’s the harm in that?”

It’s the note of desperation in his tone that has me pause and slowly turn toward him. He hasn’t fought me since my decision not to con anyone, so why is he being so persistent on this?

“What’s going on?”

His face becomes a blank mask. “What do you mean? Nothing is going on.”

My eyes narrow ever so slightly. “Are you sure?”

He scoffs. “’Course I’m sure. Just thought a windfall would be nice, that’s all. But I can see that you still think you’re too good for us. Still think you’re better than us.”

My shoulders sag. “You know it’s not that. I just don’t want to live my life ripping people off and constantly looking over my shoulder.”

“Sure, Ari. Whatever you say.” He stomps down the hall, and shortly after, the front door slams.

With a sigh, I make my way to the bathroom to shower.

Rather than relaxing like I want to, I spend the whole shower feeling guilty and second-guessing whether I should try contacting the man I saved. But I realize, despite the feeling of letting down my dad, I won’t because that’s not me anymore.

I didn’t do it because I wanted his money, and I have no way to prove it was me anyway. And even more than that, I can’t help but feel like in saving him, I was a part of something deeply personal and that he won’t be thankful to me as my dad assumes.

I put it out of my mind as I get into my pajamas and dry my hair so I don’t have to go to bed with it wet. When I’m finally finished and set the blow dryer down on the bathroom counter, I hear someone rustling around in the kitchen. The bungalow we rent isn’t huge, so it doesn’t take much commotion for me to overhear anything from the kitchen, but this is louder than normal.

Did my dad come back already?

I open the bathroom door, then hear, “Shit,” and a moan.

Bastion.

Walking to the kitchen to investigate, I stop short when he whips around, a Ziploc bag filled with ice in his hand.

“What the hell happened?” My hand flies up to my mouth.

His face is covered in blood and bruises, and one of his eyes is almost swollen shut. He winces and walks with gentleness that says there are probably more bruises under his shirt.

My first thought is that maybe Katherine is a married woman, and her husband found out she’s been sleeping with Bastion and buying him extravagant gifts. But the way Bast looks at me tells me that isn’t it. He presses the ice to the corner of his eye and flinches.

“You need to get cleaned up first so you can see where the cuts are. See if you need stiches. Stay here.” I whirl around and rush to grab the first aid kit from the bathroom.

When I return, Bast is slumped down low on one of the kitchen chairs. After I set the first aid kit on the table, I open it and fish around for what I need. Then I head over to the kitchen counter and wet a few paper towels before sitting in front of Bast.

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