Page 56 of Wicked Deceit
“Shit, I can’t wait,” Chase chuckles, downing the rest of his drink.
Carter’s eyes blow wide during his perusal of the ballroom. His back snaps ramrod straight, and his jaw clenches incredibly tight His beautiful brown eyes glaze over, turning him into an unreadable stone structure. My brows furrow when an impenetrable mask I’ve never seen shifts into place, and Carter is no longer the Carter I know.
“You guys need to get the fuck back,” he growls, pointing toward the wall. “Stand there and shut the fuck up. Don’t move,” he hisses.
The three of them share a concerned look, but they take a few steps back without argument, much to my surprise. They disappear into the shadows and lean against the wall, keeping their eyes on the two of us.
My heart pounds when the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, alerting me to the danger making his way toward us. Carter gazes down at me with those ruthless, frigid eyes. His entire expression tightens, and when he stares at me, he looks right through me. At the moment, I am nothing to him when he wears this mask: nothing but a warm body in front of him. I’m not his girlfriend or lover. I am the scum beneath his shoes, and I don’t know what scares me more: the look in his eyes or how easily he can turn himself off like this. A sharp shiver rolls through my body at the feel of eyes roaming over me.
“Do you trust me, Sweetheart?” he mumbles, not moving his lips. I nod. “Good, then keep your pretty fucking mouth shut, and I fucking mean it this time. Don’t make me silence you.” I nod again, swallowing hard at his words.
“Hello, son,” a deep voice says from behind us. Carter guides me by turning me around and placing my back against his front. His heavy hand rests on my waist, locking me in place with his grip.
“Father.” Carter’s voice dips so low that it’s almost impossible to hear through his rumble.
Cushing Cunningham stands before us, dressed in a suit easily more expensive than a house. His slicked-back blonde hair lies on his head, not a piece out of place. A smarmy smile spreads on his lips at the sight of us two. His eyes hone in on Carter’s hand, squeezing my waist, and he grins more. His arm tightens around the dazed woman on his arm, and she leans into him.
I nearly gasp at the vacant look on her face. Her eyes don’t focus on anyone, just like when I saw her at Carter’s house. It’s like she’s there, but the lights have dimmed on the inside, and she’s no longer home. Her piercing dead blue eyes catch sight of us, and she smiles widely, looking plastic and fake.
“Francesca, say hello,” Cushing coos, tightening his grip on her waist. When his fingers dig deep into the fabric of her dress, most likely pinching her, her entire body jumps.
“Oh, yes! Hello, Carter. It’s lovely to see you tonight.” Her sickly sweet voice comes out like a melody.
Piper’s mother, who I assumed was happily married to Carter’s father, seems anything but happy. She’s been on my mind since we saw her slumped over, sleeping on the couch. With those weird marks on her wrist and a glazed look in her eyes, Francesca stands like a mannequin, perfectly put together in a tight red dress that dips toward her navel. Her surgically enhanced breasts barely stay contained with the stretched fabric. A large diamond necklace sits around her neck, and expensive bracelets hang from her wrists.
“And who is this?” Cushing purrs, stepping out of Francesca’s embrace, leaving her to stare off into space.
Cushing’s eyes eat every inch of my flesh. My long baby blue gown can’t protect me from his prowling gaze. Starting with the flats on my feet and slowly bringing his gaze up, he lingers on my light removable cast, encasing my right arm with a manic grin across his face.
“I’m Kaycee,” I say, trying not to squirm under his watchful eyes.
I lean back into Carter’s chest more, seeking his protection. What is Cushing’s game? And why is he staring at me like he wants to tie me up and devour me?
Carter stiffens behind me, squeezing my waist in a warning. I can tell he wants to whisper, ‘Shut up’ in my ear. But when have I ever listened to him, or anyone for that matter?
“Well, Kaycee, it’s so wonderful to meet you. You must have been the girl my son snuck home when I was away. Forgive me for being out and not being able to introduce myself properly.” He grins further when the effects his words have on me show all over my face. Carter gives my waist another squeeze, this time for reassurance instead of threatening. How the hell did he know we were there? Shit. Fucking Piper! She must have reported back to him. Not that I thought she’d keep that secret to herself. But still, she could have kept her crazy mouth shut. I heave a breath when he continues to ramble and force myself to listen to him again.
"I’ve heard so many beautiful things about you. My boy talks nonstop about your wonderful friendship. But seeing you in person doesn’t do his words justice.” He smirks, stepping forward to take my free hand in his. Warm lips press against my wrist, lingering more than necessary, until he pulls back with a seductive grin.
Carter’s chest vibrates against my back, holding back the growl trapped in his throat. Cushing smirks, pulling back from my hand. But I keep my promise this time and zip my lips, so I say nothing stupid. Why hasn’t he done anything yet if he knows we were over? Or has he? Does he know what we were up to? Probably. Shit. My heart rate spikes at the possibility of him being onto us and figuring out what we’re doing.
“I was so sorry to hear about your car accident,” he says, nodding his head toward my right arm still snug in its cast. “It was quite the scene to come across.” A solemn expression passes over his face as he shakes his head.
“You were the cop?” I ask, swallowing hard again.
“Indeed.” Something odd passes over his face, almost like pride, and then it drops into a frown. “To see three young souls stranded on the side of the road and you—” He leans in slightly. “And you were on the ground, so broken. It was a shame… you poor, poor girl.” He tuts, clicking his tongue as his dirty eyes roam over my body. Shivers spike all over my body until I’m trembling in fear in Carter’s arms.
Every hair on my body stands on end as he speaks. He was there. In the aftermath of it all, he stood there. And why stop there? Maybe he was the one to dole out my injuries as well? Goosebumps break out over my skin at the thought of him standing over me and breaking my arm.
“Cushing,” Francesca whispers. “I’m sure she doesn’t want to relive it all.” Her hand pats his shoulder, curling around it.
In that single move, her diamond bracelets fall from her wrists, moving up her forearms and revealing the strange, angry, and blistering marks completely encompassing her wrists. I cock my head, and my breath stalls in my lungs from the depth of the wounds. She doesn’t wince when they slide back over the marks, and she smiles.
His jaw ticks as he glances back at her and stands to full height. “Of course. Sorry, dear. It’s a night that will live in my memories forever.” I blink as he stares at me with pools of evil flashing across his face.
He’s a devil in disguise, hidden in plain sight, presented on a platform to the world as a good samaritan. A leader in the police force, promising his citizens he’s there to help. But he’s not. He makes Carter look like a sparkling saint as everyone worships him for their good deeds. Cushing embodies evil, which wafts off of him in waves, spreading around the room and taking victims.
Stepping back into Carter’s embrace again, I ground myself in his presence. I soak in the heat of his body and the cologne marking his skin. Breathe in. Breathe out. Calmness rushes over me, blanketing me in the fresh air. No matter the situation, Carter wouldn’t let anything happen to me. Ever. Even with his mask in place, I know the real Carter. He’s nestled deep inside, full of compassion, kindness, and, dare I say it, love.
