Page 150 of Unspoken Truths

“Next time, play nice,” the officer says, shrugging as he closes the door behind Barrett.

Dad chuckles under his breath as the officer waves at us and gets into the car.

“I need to call my lawyer to spread the word that Barrett isn’t to be picked up as a client by anyone,” he says. “Then, I’m getting him stripped of his license. He fucked with the wrong family. The King Society may believe they can poison the people closest to you, but it doesn’t mean there won’t be repercussions. I need to go fuck with some people’s livelihoods. I’m done.”

Dad leaves to make some calls as I wince. He isn’t someone to be crossed, even by the most powerful of people. It’s why he was tapped to be a King when he was in school.

“Do you need some air?” I ask Rachelle as she gazes at the police car as it leaves.

“What?” she asks, blinking as she looks over at me.

“Barrett is taken care of,” I remind her. “The ambulance people won’t be able to get on the property either. There’s all this nervous energy inside of you. A run always helps when I feel off.”

“No one feels the way I do,” she whispers. “I’m a freak.”

“You’re not, let’s go,” I say, my arm looping around her waist to pull her away from the door. I don’t want to manhandle her, but the negative self talk isn’t going to fly either. “We’ve already established that we’re all one bad experience away from falling apart. Now, go change into something you can run in.”

“Nacio,” she groans.

The little mouse has been very careful not to call me that. My heart feels as if it’s reforming itself, and the nickname I’ve had for her feels less derogatory. Maybe I have a chance after all.

“Nope,” I say, escorting her toward the stairs.

“Where are you two headed?” Julia asks suspiciously, her head popping out of the living room.

“For a run,” I tell her. “Figured it would be a good idea since she still looks as if she’s a little twitchy.”

“Rachelle, do you want to go for a run?” her mom asks, slightly amused.

Damn, I’m still making her do shit. I’m someone used to issuing commands, making decisions, or arguing to get my way.

“It may help,” Rachelle sighs. “My body doesn’t know what it wants right now.”

“Don’t over do it,” her mom reminds her.

Nodding, we continue up the stairs, and I watch as she trudges to her room to change. She doesn’t really want to go, but at least she agrees that it may help. Going into my room, I change quickly.

Rachelle is leaning against the wall as I come out, putting on her midnight blue sneakers. They look good on her, something I never thought I’d say.

My phone buzzes in my pocket as I gaze at her, and I dread checking it. There’s few people who would be messaging me right now. Pulling it out, I see several messages from different people.

Theo:

Why is there an ambulance outside your house? Did your stepmother finally decide to shoot you?

Lips twitching in amusement,I shake my head.

Me:

No, she didn’t. Thank you for the concern. Rachelle’s therapist was tapped by the Kings’ Society and pushed too hard. He’s been detained by the police.

Theo:

I didn’t know she was seeing a therapist.

Me:

That’s because I enjoy being alive, Theo.

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