Page 156 of Wicked Games

“Why didn’t some news outlet cover it?”

“Because the Ashers wanted it hidden,” he bites out. “Lydia and her brother-in-law in particular. They want—no, theyneed—the Asher name to be pristine.”

“Butwhy?”

He leans forward, bracing his forearms on the table. “You saw something you shouldn’t have. And you told me about it when your mother told you not to.” He pauses, like he’s waiting for me to magically remember.

Sorry, Dad.This is all new information.

I wish I could just freakingremember. “She—you—one of you locked me in my room. There was yelling. Your room was destroyed.” I hold out my hands, staring at my nails. “Did you bandage me up?”

“We got into an argument,” he says. “It was heated. And yes, while I was gone… I fixed you up when I got back.”

I’d hate to see what a real fight looked like, if that was just the result of a heated argument.

I push that thought away. “Did you hurt her?”

He’s miserable reliving this—it’s written all over his face—and I almost apologize. I hold fast. I need to know. It’s why I’m here, right? I can’t let this be in vain.

“I didn’t touch her,” he says. “But… I did hurt someone else.”

What?

Who?

“Can you just be straight with me?” I demand. “Why are you in here? I talked to your lawyer, but he didn’t give me anything?—”

“You talked to Hutchins?”

“Five minutes!” a guard yells.

Dad’s face has gone white, and he grabs my wrists. I suppress a yelp and stay perfectly still, while a guard yells behind him. Dad stiffens and releases me quickly.

“You went to Tobias Hutchins?” he repeats, voice low. “Alone?”

“My friend went with me,” I mutter. “We were in the city looking at NYU.”

His face softens for an instant. “We’ll discuss your college search the next time you come in.” And then he’s back to brisk. “He got me a deal. A shit one, if you ask me, but what choice did I have?”

“What deal?”

He shakes his head. “You’re going to come back, right?”

Will I?

He clearly has a story to tell, but it might take some tugging to follow a single thread through the tapestry.

“Yes,” I say. “I promise, I’ll come back. Now tell me what deal you took. Please.”

He grimaces. “I was looking at a life sentence for murder.”

My eyes go wide.

Murder?

Who was murdered?

I have zero recollection.

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