Broken Trust: A Dark High School Romance(77)

I broke apart then, and it was only Beck’s arms around me that kept me standing. He held me while I sobbed against his shirt.

“Dante works for Catherine, doesn’t he?” I said, choking on the words.

Beck didn’t speak. “How long?” I said, pulling back, my hands twisted in his shirt front. “How long has he been working for her? From the start?”

Beck hesitated. “It would make sense. She probably never wanted to lose touch with you, just in case. Dante was the perfect mole. Who would have expected a kid to be a double agent?”

All a lie. Every fucking moment with Dante from the first time he “found me” in his neighborhood had been a lie.

But … could it all be a lie? He’d expressed real emotions to me more than once; demonstrated his caring. He loved me in his own way, I was sure of that.

He’d have to be a damn good actor if it was all a lie.

And maybe he was. Maybe it was naive of me to think that this was anything other than a careful ruse orchestrated by my fucking bitch of a birth mother.

Another way for her to control my life. To control me.

I was still holding onto Beck, staring up at him, tears filling my eyes. I wasn’t really seeing him though, stuck in my own head, as I tried to comprehend it all.

“What’s wrong with Riley?” Dylan asked from nearby.

Beck didn’t answer him, his dark gaze still on me, murder in his eyes.

“Riley,” Dylan said, closer to my face. “Snap out of it for a minute, because if you don’t, Beck is going to go postal and start hurting people.”

I swallowed hard, trying to stop the rapid in and out breathing I was doing—sounding like a dog panting. I couldn’t seem to get myself under control.

“Dante,” I choked out. “He’s been Catherine’s mole the entire time. All the fucking time. My entire fucking life. It’s all been a lie.”

How much more could Catherine take from me? How much more could she extract before there was nothing left inside?

Beck made a low rumbling sound, his chest and arms shaking, and I somehow managed to calm my own freak out, so I could wrap my arms around him. “It’s okay, Sebastian,” I said, using his name in an attempt to snap him out of it. “I’m okay. We’ll figure this out.”

His hold was rough, almost painful as he yanked me into his body. “It’s going to be okay, Butterfly,” he said close to my ear. “I promise you, Catherine will pay.”

He didn’t have to tell me that, I was already planning it in my head.

This time when I pulled the trigger, she would be the one in my sights.





31





Jefferson police station was not that large, nothing like the ones back in Jersey. It had a sterile, tiled sitting area at the front, a long desk with screens and bars, and a door that led back into whatever was beyond the sitting area.

I had started pacing ten minutes ago, much to the annoyance of the middle-aged chick behind the desk.

“Miss, if you take a seat, I will let you know when you can see your friend.”

I swung a glare in her direction. “I’ll sit down when you tell me something. For now, I’m pacing, okay?”

She shut her mouth and continued with whatever paperwork was in front of her. It was almost 4:00 a.m., and I’d been waiting here for two hours. Delta lawyers arrived just before us, and they were back there now with Dante. So far we hadn’t heard a thing.

“Riles, sweetheart, maybe we should wait at home. Meredith here will call us as soon as there’s news, right?”

Dylan turned his dark eyes on her, and she almost wilted. “Of course, Mr. Grant. I will phone the second I hear anything.”

Everyone was exhausted; I felt like I was literally dead on my feet. So much fucking stuff had happened today that it was hard to believe it had only been twelve hours since I was drinking champers with my friends and family to celebrate my eighteenth.

“Okay,” I finally agreed. “Our apartment is not far from here, so we can be back in a few minutes.”

Dylan, Jasper and Evan looked relieved. Beck’s expression hadn’t shifted in hours. He was still wearing a scary mask that gave nothing away and at the same time made me afraid to leave him alone. He was plotting something. Something big.

Shit was going to go down.

He held my hand as we left the station though, only letting it go so we could get into the Bugatti before he took it again. He parked next to my butterfly, and I could barely look at her, because all she did was remind me of Dante. All of the times we took her out, raced her, won together.

All fucking lies.

Once we were inside, I convinced Dylan, Evan, and Jasper to go to their own apartments—they wanted to stay with me, but they needed sleep, and my couch was not big enough for the three of them. Beck never left, and I never suggested he should. We got ready for bed silently—I didn’t even bother to find pjs, just stripping down to my underwear, peeing, brushing my teeth, and then crawling into bed. I’d worry about dirty sheets tomorrow.

“Whatever happened to my gun?” I asked Beck as the darkness closed around us and we snuggled together.

“It’s in your drawer,” he said in that same expressionless tone. “Right next to you.”

I chuckled dryly, finally able to be amused by the way he just broke into my apartment whenever he wanted.