Page 115 of Vicious Deception

“What happened?” I ask.

Elliot hangs his head. “I snuck into O’s room a couple times. Climbed out of my window and inched across a ledge. The first time, I held him while he fell asleep. The second time . . . I fell asleep, too.”

“And they found you,” Rhett says.

Nodding, Elliot rubs at his face. “I should’ve been the one Ludo punished. It should’ve been me. But his men dragged us downstairs, and he forced me to watch while he hurt Oliver.” Elliot shakes his head. “I begged to take his place, but Ludo ignored me.”

I thought I noticed something off between Elliot and Oliver, but I wasn’t sure. Elliot has seemed avoidant, almost guilty, while Oliver has just seemed sad. Now I know why, I guess.

“He doesn’t blame you,” I say, resting my hand on Elliot’s arm. I haven’t talked to Oliver about it, but I know there’s no way he would. “You know that, right?”

With his eyes closed, Elliot nods. “But that doesn’t change that it’s my fault.”

At that, Rhett’s hands curl into fists. “No. There’s been enough of that, Ell. We all know who’s at fault here, and it’s not any of us.”

“But—”

“All of this lies squarely on Holloway’s shoulders,” Rhett says firmly.“He’sthe one who killed Sammy.He’sthe one who locked us up.He’sthe one who tortured O. No one else is to blame but him.”

“I just—”

“No.This isn’t your fault, Ell.”

“Fine,” he sighs. “What made you break Holloway’s legs?”

It’s a blatant attempt to change the subject, but it works.

“I had a nightmare about Ludo escaping and killing us,” I say.

“I didn’t even want there to be a question in her mind,” Rhett adds.

“I know there wasn’t,” I tell Elliot quickly. “There’s no way he could’ve gotten out, even before. But I just . . .”

Elliot leans over and brushes his lips across my cheek. “You don’t have to explain, love. You feel safer?”

I nod.

“That’s what’s important.”

The oven beeps, and Rhett pulls out the cinnamon rolls.

“Ohhh, those smell amazing!” Oliver says as he walks into the kitchen. He grins at me, planting a happy kiss on my lips before doing the same to Ell. “How’re you feeling, Rhett?”

“A lot better.” Rhett grabs onto Oliver and kisses him deeply, not letting him pull away until he’s had his fill.

“I’m glad.” Oliver reaches for one of the cinnamon rolls.

Rhett slaps his hand away. “You’re going to burn yourself. Get some coffee and sit down.”

With a playful roll of his eyes, Oliver does so. “What are our plans today?”

“Not much, as far as I’m concerned. We have to play the waiting game to get the boys back home until after the funeral, so . . .” Elliot shrugs. “Check on Ludo, I guess. But that’s it.”

“I figure I’ll head down there sometime before lunch.” Rhett is holding the icing bowl, but he sets it down, and his eyes travel over us until they land on Oliver. “I think you should come with me.”

“No.”

“Oliver—”

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