Page 83 of The Devil's Deceit
I shouldn’t be flirting with him, yet I can’t stopmyself.
Christian: Say that to me when I get home and you’re getting railed.
Me: *Shudders* You say the sexiest things.
Me: xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Me: Is that enough?
Christian: Not even close. Gotta go. I’ll call you tomorrow. Have fun x
I toss my phone on the couch beside me, a sense of melancholy weighing me down. What’s wrong with me? I should be ecstatic that after so many false starts, I finally have the first shred of evidence that Christian did use his considerable influence to have the report into Nexus’s collapse altered. Yet instead of jumping for joy, I’ve got this pain in my gut that won’t go away.
At seven o’clock, and with the sheet of paper safely tucked away in my handbag, I climb into the back of the car that I guess Powell must’ve arranged after I told him I was going out. Mr. No-Personality sits up front with the driver—someone I haven’t seen before—and neither of them speak during the entire ride. I’m uncomfortable, yet they seem perfectly content sitting in silence. I stuff earbuds in my ears and play some music, staring out the window at the blur of hedgerows as we leave Oakleigh behind.
At one minute to eight, we arrive at Juliet’s. As suspected, Powell accompanies me inside. At the top of the stairs, I knock on the door. Juliet opens it and rushes out to envelop me in a huge hug.
“It’s so good to see you. Come on in.”
I turn to tell Powell to stay put, but he’s already stationed himself to the right of her door, hands laced behind his back. I catch her eye and shrug, and she grins.
Arron stands when I enter the living room, and I can’t stop the rush of tears at seeing my brother for the first time in almost two weeks. He hugs me so tightly, I struggle to breathe, but it’s worth it just to feel his solid embrace. Juliet disappears into the kitchen, soon returning with a bottle of wine and three glasses.
“I take it from the suddenness of your visit that we’re celebrating?” she asks, setting down the glasses on the table and unscrewing the top.
“We are,” I reply, even though celebrating is the last thing I feel like doing. Delving into my bag, I take out the piece of paper. “I found this in Christian’s office earlier today.” I pass it to Arron.
Juliet peers over his shoulder to read it.
“Fucking knew it,” Arron gruffs out.
“The slimy twat,” Juliet adds.
“At least now we have something we can use,” he says.
“How do we use it, though?” I ask. “Do we go to the press?”
“Not yet.” Arron takes a glass of wine from Juliet and sips. “Let me talk to Uncle Daniel and then we’ll decide where we go from here.”
“Speaking of.” I glug my wine for courage. “I did not appreciate the text you sent me the other day. You’re sounding more and more like him every day, and I’m not happy about it.”
“What text?” Juliet enquires.
“It was nothing,” Arron mumbles, his cheeks turning pink.
“It wasn’t nothing. I do not appreciate being told I’m failing our parents when I’m trying my fucking hardest to find something we can use to prove what happened, and at the same time making sure I don’t get caught.”
“Arron.” Juliet punches his upper arm. “You absolute cunt.”
“Ow.” He rubs it. “I’d had a difficult day at work, that’s all. No need to call me a cunt.”
“And that excuses you in no way,” Juliet says. “If you act like a cunt, I’ll call you a cunt.”
I snort a laugh. Ever since our schooldays, Juliet’s had my back, and that includes with my brother. They’ve always had a tumultuous relationship. Once upon a time, I thought they might actually end up together, but neither has shown any romantic interest in the other that I’ve ever witnessed.
“All jokes aside, I didn’t like it, Arron, and I don’t want you sending any more texts accusing me of failing our parents. Have you any idea how hurtful that was?”
His cheeks aren’t pink now. They’re flaming red.
