Broken Trust: A Dark High School Romance(62)

“No, but he did.” I scowled and tried to stand up, but my legs turned to liquid and I fell back into my seat in an awkward sprawl. “Fuck you, Richard,” I snarled. “You never actually stepped down from Delta, did you?”

A smile creased his features, which were blurring a bit. “Oh, I did. In a way. My son’s murder required investigation, and it was so much easier to fly under the radar when everyone writes you off as a grieving father on the brink of breakdown. And now here I am, investigating a mole. Tell me, Riley ... are you that mole?”

His tone was so light, so matter of fact, I wouldn’t have been shocked if he decided to shoot me in the head right here in his sitting room. Fuck. Me. The rest of the council combined didn’t have shit on Richard Deboise, he was one scary ass motherfucker.

“No,” I snapped back, “and neither are Dylan or Beck. If you want to find a mole, maybe look at the other people who knew about our mission.” Namely—the entire Delta council and whoever else was involved with our operation that night. Especially Catherine Deboise, who had a very close tie to the head of Huntley.

Richard smiled again. A creepy, soulless smile. “I believe you believe that. Thank you, dear. It’s been lovely getting to know you better. Stewart will see you home.”

I could no longer feel my limbs, and my vision was both blurring and spinning, but I still noticed when Stewart gathered me up in his arms and started walking out of the sitting room.

“Oh, and Riley?” Richard called after us, causing Stew to pause. “I trust you won’t share this chat with anyone. It would be so sad if Beckett lost their heir so close to his succession, and when you’ve clearly formed such a close bond with the young man too.”

“Fuck you, Richard,” I tried to snarl back, but it came out a bit slurred.

Stewart started walking with me again, and just before I passed out, I could have sworn I heard Richard mutter something more from close by.

“You should have taken the IDs and run while you could, stupid girl,” he said, but instead of sounding threatening, his voice was full of ... regret and despair. Something soft brushed across my forehead, but I was already dropping into unconsciousness.





Sunlight beat down over my face, and I groaned. Why did my head feel like I’d been put through a meat grinder and who the fuck left my curtains open?

“What the hell?” I mumbled, my tongue thick and heavy like I’d been drinking all night. Picking up my phone from the night stand, I checked the time ... then groaned. My alarm was set to go off in six minutes, and it was a school day.

My head was pounding. Utterly thumping. Cringing with every movement, I staggered over to my bathroom and busted in without taking notice of the fact that the shower was running.

Why was my shower running?

Ugh, too hard to look.

I turned the sink faucet on and splashed a couple of handfuls of cold water on my face then patted it dry with a washcloth as the shower turned off.

My eyes opened just in time to see the reflection of a very wet, very naked Sebastian Beckett stepping out of my shower.

“Sebastian.” I frowned, still fuzzy headed and confused. “Why are you in my shower? I don’t remember...” I was going to say that I didn’t remember going to bed with him, but really I didn’t remember anything.

He grinned, taking his sweet ass time to pick up a towel and slowly dry off. It was like getting front row tickets to the Magic Mike show ... if Mike ditched the G-string. “I’m not surprised you don’t remember,” he said with a low laugh. “You were passed out cold when Stewart brought you home. Hit the Scotch a bit too hard with Richard, huh?”

“Huh?” I wrinkled my nose, then all of a sudden the night before came flooding back to me, and I gasped. “Holy shit,” I whispered, covering my face with my hands. Richard ... he’d drugged me! What kind of sick, deranged, messed up...? But of course he was unstable. All of them were. It had to be scientifically impossible to maintain total sanity in the fucked up world Delta operated within.

“Butterfly?” Beck tucked his towel around his waist and stroked my hair. “Are you okay?”

My lips parted to tell him everything. All of it. Richard’s questions, the fact that he suspected a mole, the fact that I may have inadvertently cast suspicion on Dylan, the fact that he’d been working for Delta all along, conducting investigations into...

But I couldn’t tell him. Richard’s threat came slamming back to me, and I had to swallow several times to keep from throwing up. Not just because the threat had been really fucked up, but because I’d been mad at them for keeping secrets, and now I was doing the same fucking thing. And using the same excuse.

To protect him.

Beck would be pissed too, but that was just something I’d have to deal with. Keeping him alive was my number one priority.

“Uh huh,” I lied, giving him a tight smile. “Just, uh, really hungover. I guess.”

He cupped my cheek in one of his huge hands, peering into my eyes like he could read my soul, and secretly I hoped he could. Maybe then he’d have a heads-up on everything and be able to ... I didn’t know. Save himself?

“Okay,” he finally said, accepting my bullshit. “Get ready for school and I’ll grab you some aspirin. One of us should have warned you how heavily Richard can drink.” He said this last with a chuckle, and ice formed down my spine. Had Richard pulled this same trick on him at some stage? Except he didn’t remember it?