Page 41 of One Twisted Lie

I let out a shuddering breath, hating that I’m about to admit this but knowing that it’s useless to resist Carter and his concerned gaze. “I’m fucking scared, Carter.”

“Me too,” he says. “I never thought something like this could happen.”

“Sebastian did. He warned us and we didn’t listen.” I drop my head in shame. “Ididn’t listen.”

Sebastian came to us, and basically begged us to listen, and I brushed him off. I treated him and his concern as something insignificant. My pride, my blindness, and my inability to listen to anybody but myself led to this.

“We’re here, and he’s getting help,” Carter says, drawing me out of my self-loathing. “We’ve done all we can do.”

But that’s not true. There’s more. I could have done more.

“I won’t go until I can see him,” I say stubbornly. “They’re going to be sorry if they don’t let me back there.”

“There’s my spoiled, entitled princess,” he chuckles. “I was wondering where he went.”

“Hug me again.” I pathetically launch myself at him, snuggling into his warmth and security. “At least this place looks reasonably decent.”

“Lucky you found a way to get an opening. Sometimes it pays to be the king of kings.”

“You hate when I call myself that.”

“Well, it worked now.”

I settle my forehead against his. “I’d rather be your princess. I—”

But I don’t know what to say. He called me king of kings and it just doesn’t sound right. It hits in a way it hasn’t before. He didn’t mean it as an insult, but it struck, regardless.

Because I don’t feel like the king of kings when I’m with him, not anymore. With him, I’m someone new, someone different. What I have with Carter is slowly turning into something I can’t control, and I don’t know how to feel about that.

“I know. We’ll talk later,” he says as if he can hear the words I just can’t say. His phone chooses now to ping, and he pulls it out of his pocket with a groan. One glance at what he sees, and his eyes widen. “Oh, shit.”

“What?” I take the phone before he can stop me, and I’m repulsed by what I see. On the screen, in excruciatingly vivid detail is Avery’s mental breakdown. Some prick at our school filmed it and is spreading it around for his own sick enjoyment. Anger courses through me. “I’m going to fucking slaughter them!”

“God,” Carter breathes, unable to tear his eyes away from the spectacle on his phone. “What dicks.”

“Can you do something about it?”

“With my arms tied behind my back. Yeah, I’ll take care of it.”

I give his forehead a sloppy kiss. “Thank fuck for that gorgeous brain.”

He chuckles. “Be careful or I’ll start to think you’re falling in love with me.” He glances over my shoulder and frowns. “I think you need to talk to Sebastian.”

I turn around and find that Sebastian is still in the same place we left him. Regret fills me. “Yeah. Maybe I owe him an apology.”

Carter raises a brow. “Are you going to give him one?”

I scratch the back of my neck as it blossoms red. “Um…”

“I guess not.”

“I’m an imperfect person.”

“Fuck me, do I know it,” he says, shaking his head in exasperation as he kisses me quickly. “Go. I’ll find Daniel and Mag and take care of this video.”

I nod, giving him one last kiss because I just can’t fucking help myself. I head over to Sebastian, clearing my throat to get his attention. He turns, and I feel bad. He looks like a wreck. I don’t know how it’s possible, but he seems to have aged decades in a matter of hours. His normally fresh face is pale and gaunt, his eyes void of anything but concern. His lips are red and raw as if he’s been picking at them.

I don’t really know how to approach this situation. He’s staring at me, but he’s not saying anything. It’s awkward as fuck.

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