Page 96 of Black Ties and White Lies

“Woah there. Careful, Margo,” Carter says, his hands holding my biceps tightly.

I try to pull free from his grip, but it’s too tight. Deciding not to cause a scene, or set him off, I allow his hands to stay where they are, no matter how uncomfortable they make me.

“Hi, Carter.” I greet him calmly, trying to keep my voice steady even though there’s an unhinged look in his eyes as he glares down at me. I can smell alcohol on his breath. It wafts around us. My eyes look over his shoulder, searching for any other person on the terrace. I come up empty, completely alone with my appearing to be drunk and angry ex-boyfriend.

“What are you doing out here alone?” There’s a slight slur to his words, but less than I was expecting by the smell surrounding us. Maybe he hasn’t had as much to drink as I’d originally thought.

I attempt to take a step away from him, trying to put some distance between our bodies, but he doesn’t allow it. For every step I take backward, he takes one forward, keeping a tight grip on me.

“I was just looking for Beck.” I manage to pull one arm from him, his fingers staying locked around my other bicep. Reaching up, I move hair from my face so I can see him better.

His eyes flash when he zeroes in on my hand. Before I can even register the sudden rage in his gaze, he’s grabbing my hand and pulling it to his face.

“No he didn’t,” he spits. He inspects the ring on my finger, sliding his thumb over the large diamond.

I try to pull my hand, but his icy hands won’t let me. They’ve got a viselike hold on my fingers. “You already knew we were engaged, Carter. I didn’t think you’d care. You cheated on me for years, remember?”

Carter laughs. It’s cold and daunting, making my spine shiver in fear. It’s a sound I’ve never heard from him. “This is our grandmother’s ring. Did he tell you that?”

My lips part. He hadn’t told me that at all. I’d thought it was something he’d designed himself. Not a family heirloom.

“He didn’t,” he notes, answering his own question. He clicks his tongue, throwing my hands down roughly.

I scurry backwards, relieved he’s no longer touching me.

“How do you know?” I ask, my voice hoarse with nerves.

“My grandfather showed it to us all the time. He’d told us all about how he fell in love with our grandmother. He’d been devastated when she passed away when I was in middle school. From that moment on, he told us that the first woman to steal one of our hearts would have the honor of wearing the ring.”

I fight the urge to play with the ring, to inspect it with new eyes. Why would Beck give me something so meaningful if the engagement was supposed to be fake all along?

I’m at a loss for what to say back. Beck never told me that the ring was sentimental. I hadn’t ever even asked—the thought never crossed my mind that it could be. It doesn’t make sense why he’d give me something so special for something that’s meant to be fake. I don’t say any of this out loud. Even though my head is reeling, I have my head on straight enough to know that I shouldn’t admit anything to Carter and jeopardize everything falling apart.

“It seems there’s a lot he hasn’t told you, Margo.”

He unbuttons the first few buttons of his wrinkled dress shirt. It brings attention to how disheveled he looks.

“Are you okay, Carter?” No matter how much he hurt me in the past, I still care about him. Seeing him like this hurts. Through the years we dated I never saw him look so…tortured.

He laughs again, this time louder, the sound bouncing off the stone exterior wall. It’s ominous. My heart beats erratically in fear.

“You’re asking the wrong fucking question. Ask me what hehasn’ttold you.” He smiles sinisterly. “C’mon. I know you want to.”

I shake my head, trying to stay calm. If I were to try to walk around him, would he let me? Any other time, I’d be confident that he wouldn’t hurt me. But there’s unrest in his eyes I’ve never seen before. It makes me hesitant to do anything sudden.

Why can’t someone come out here and find us?

Goosebumps pop up all over my skin thanks to the chill in the air and the ice in Carter’s eyes. “You’re not making any sense, Carter.”

“He’s been lying to you.”

“Why don’t we go inside and talk about this?” I brave trying to step around him, giving him a wide berth. He quickly reaches out and grabs me once again, bringing my body flush to his.

His fingertips press so deep into my forearm it hurts. “You’re hurting me,” I cry.

“We’ll go inside when I’ve said what I wanted to say,” he hisses.

I nod, trying to keep the tears that are well up in my eyes at bay. I swore I’d never shed another tear for Carter Sinclair, but this shouldn’t count. The tears are from fear, from the unease at the unhinged look on his face.

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