Page 26 of Filthy Few

“You say the sweetest things,” I coo.

He fans himself and bats his lashes. “Oh darling, only to you, my love.” Both of us burst out laughing, he is the one person I can rely on to always bring me out of a sour mood and cheer me up without even trying. He props his head on his hand and looks down at me. I sigh knowing he isn’t going to let this go, so I reach over to my side drawer and pull out the two letters from my uncle and the postcard thing from two-horns. “What’s this?” he asks as I hand them to him.

“Just read them and then I’ll explain.” I watch a range of emotions splay across his face as he reads the letters. His jaw hangs out as he finishes and looks at me.

“You have a brother.” I nod. “You have an uncle.” I humph and nod again. “Who is this one from?” he asks, waving the postcard. I push my bottom lip to the side and debate how to explain that one to him.

“Uh, that one is…” I debate over my words for a second trying to think of the best way to explain. “Well, you see there is a bit of a story but it’s kind of a long one and I am super tired?—”

“Good try, you little shit, start explaining it to me now.” I roll onto my back and stare up at the ceiling, huffing my displeasure but Waylen ignores my pouting and waits for me to tell him who the hell theFilthy Fewis. The real question though… how much do I tell him?

I flick my eyes to him as I say, “Don’t get mad though, okay?”

I can see he wants to argue but instead just says, “Okay.”

“Okay, I guess in order for you to understand I have to tell you what happened from when I arrived here.” And so I do, I tell him everything from the night of the bonfire and how Vox and his friends have been assholes, the masked men, my uncle leaving me notes. I tell him everything except for the fact that I am fucking two-horns. That is something he just doesn’t need to know and something I am not comfortable sharing, that is mydarkest fantasy that I am living out and I won’t have him judge me for that.

“Jesus Christ, Nova!” He leaps from the bed and begins pacing my room while I sit up, clutching a pillow to my chest and watch him, hoping he will calm down. He stops his pacing every few seconds to look at me, then shakes his head and continues his pacing while muttering to himself.

“Waylen, I need you to stop pacing and just use your words!” He freezes and pins me with an ice-cold glare that has me sitting up ramrod straight on the bed.

“What the fuck do I say?” I flinch at the harsh tone of his voice. “You have been lying to me for weeks. We agreed that we would never hide shit from each other and here you are keeping the biggest secret of them all and keeping me in the dark.” Guilt churns inside me and I drop my gaze from his, unable to stand the look of hurt in his eyes.

“I didn’t mean to lie, I swear I just?—”

He cuts in before I can finish. “I’m not angry at you. I’m just pissed that you have been dealing with shit alone and wouldn’t let me help. How am I supposed to leave you now?” I snap my head up and stare at him in surprise.

“What?”

His features soften as he moves toward the bed and drops down onto the edge of it. “I can’t just go back home and leave you alone with your crazy-ass stepbrother and this crew of masked assholes chasing your tail.”

I scrunch my face. “No one sayschasing tail.” He chuckles and shrugs.

“Quit calling me out, I’m still reeling after learning all of this shit so I get a free pass.” I soften and smile at my best friend, unloading all of this shit, and being able to finally tell him the truth feels freeing. “What do you plan to do about all of this?”

A sigh escapes me as I contemplate how to answer him. I wish I could sit here and say that I know exactly what my next move is but that’s bullshit. “I don’t know, Way-way. I’m so confused. Ever since I found that file in Thomas’ office I feel like I am in some sort of thriller movie.”

“What exactly did that file say?”

“Virgil Hatchett’s death wasn’t an accident. The coroner's report proves that and it also listed Edmund Tempest’s death which wasn’t an accident either,” I whisper, feeling sick to my stomach about this information.

“Jesus, so your new stepfather is a murderer?”

I groan and flop back against the pillows. “It appears that way,” I mutter.

“Okay. So, no one knows what he did and everyone thinks their deaths were accidents.” I nod. “If that’s the case then why the hell are those assholes picking on you at school and why are three masked guys coming after you and who the fuck is this secret uncle?”

“When you say it all out loud like that it sounds…”

“Crazy as fuck like a horror movie?” he supplies. I lull my head to the side and pin him with a deadpan look that has him smiling. “We need to find someone who can help us…” He clamps his mouth closed and stares down at me with wide eyes.

I sit upright and stare at my friend with worry. “What’s wrong?”

He reaches out and grips my arms in a haste. “I know how we find out the truth about all of this but you aren’t going to like how we do it.”

I search his eyes trying to decipher what he’s thinking, but I see nothing but resolution. “What are you thinking?” I ask softly, slightly terrified of what his answer might be. With how in tuned we are with each other, I know he is thinking the same thing I have been.

“We need to ask theFilthy Fewfor a favor.” His ominous words hang between us for a tense moment, until I tear free of his hold, jump from the bed and begin pacing the room. He has no idea what he is asking. It’s not his fault because I refused to admit that I have been fucking one of them. I can’t explain but I feel a connection to two horns, it’s like I know him. “Nova?” I wave my hand ignoring him as I continue pacing my room trying to think of another way but I’m running out of time. Thomas, Mom and Nexus get back on Sunday and I don’t know if I will be able to stay under the same roof as him without knowing the truth.

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