Page 81 of Deceit

Yeah, Asher and I get along so well. We—

“I beg your pardon?” I ask before I can help myself, earning another harsh squeeze from Asher as I correct my next words. “When were you thinking?”

“October 31st,” he nods, as if it were set in stone.

I frown at that. “Halloween?”

The table goes still, and I can’t help but feel as if I’ve said the wrong thing, but I’m not the one suggesting a Halloween wedding. What, are we giving away candy as wedding favors? Everyone has to dress up in a costume?

“That’s a month from now,” Asher states, taking control of the conversation.

“Correct,” Christopher answers as his eyes come to him. “We still intend to have the wedding celebrations in the spring, but we felt that the ceremony itself could occur sooner.”

“Why?” I blurt out, practically choking on my words when I realize that I said that out loud.

Christopher’s easy going smile slips away, an angered glare rivaling my father’s taking over.

“Because I deemed it so. I set the plans, I give the instructions and you both would do well to follow them,” he snaps, before he gestures to the wait staff and turns his ire to Asher.

“Son, tell me, why isn’t your fiancée over the moon to become a Putnam? Have you been mistreating her? Disrespecting her?”

“Of course not,” Asher defends, as one of the staff hands Christopher a yellow envelope.

Christopher nods like he believes Asher, before dropping the envelope onto his untouched plate. Wordlessly, Asher opens it, pulling out picture after picture of him. It’s not just him, though. It’s him and Bridgette Brenton, it’s him and Marcy Kravitz. It’s the picture of my pillow and the note that was sent out to theentire school. There is even a picture of him, shoving me mid-frame, into that empty grave in the cemetery.

If I allowed it, my mouth would be unhinged on the floor. I force my lips closed though and stare on in shock. The only indicator of fear is in the slight shake of Asher’s hands, as he thumbs through picture after picture.

He swallows once, roughly, before setting the photos down and looking between my father and his.

“I have been discreet.”

In a flash, Christopher’s hand is behind Asher’s head, smashing it against the table, the glass of his drink and plate shattering from the impact. I startle at the crash, but don’t move a muscle as I watch on with horror.

Christopher digs his fingers into Asher’s hair, rearing his face back up to look at him. Blood instantly begins seeping out of the multiple cuts on his face, and his nose is bent in a way that has to be broken.

My eyes are wide, and my breath stalled in my lungs as I watch Christopher unleash his fury.

“You have been everything but!” he sneers. “You have disrespected your fiancée, your match, my own Bond Brother. Your insolence and defiance is not only noted, it is deplorable. If I even hear a whisper of you in a room alone with another woman, apart from your fiancée, until your ceremony, I will personally break every bone in your face while Henry handles your arms and your legs.”

I risk a glance over to my father, surprised to see such a satisfied grin across his features. He stares at Asher like he is eager for the chance to hurt him, blood thirsty even. It’s a look I’ve never seen on him before. One I didn’t even think he would be capable of.

Asher doesn’t make a sound, he’s completely silent, as he stares at his father.

“Understood,” Asher says numbly, not a hint of hurt or emotion behind his words.

Christopher lets go of his hair, nodding once, before rearing back and delivering a punch so vicious it literally knocks Asher out of his chair and onto his back.

“Son or not, everyone will fall into line or find themselves dispensed. Get out of my sight.”

Asher shakes his head, blinking the no doubt stars away before he pushes himself up to stand. My eyes cautiously come to Christopher who takes his seat again, reaching his hand out for a staff member to hand him a towel. He easily wipes the blood off of his knuckles, as he gives me an empathetic smile that truly speaks to how much of a psychopath he is.

“My deepest apologies, Skyla. Normally, I would handle such messy matters in private, but I thought it important that you witness his punishment since it is you and your father who are truly the victims here. The relationship between the Putnam’s and the Parris’ mean absolutely everything to me, as well as my son,” he says, cutting Asher a sharp look who is now standing.

“Should he ever misbehave again, I want you to come directly to me. Do you understand?”

I hesitate, glancing at Asher’s bloodied face as he looks down at me, softly nodding his head. I mimic the movement, giving Christopher a tight smile.

“Thank you.”

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