Twisted Betrayal

by Davis, Siobhan

  My nostrils twitch, and the scent of marijuana fills the air. I glance at Jackson, puffing frantically on a joint like it’s the air he needs to breathe. Drew opens his mouth to say something, but Sawyer cuts him off with a sharp, pointed look.

  “Who were those men because not all of them were local,” I say.

  “They are all high-ranking elite members, there by invitation. People Father wants to network with or manipulate. There are cameras all over the room, and they purposely capture men in inappropriate acts and then use it to blackmail them after. No one talks about it because they are too embarrassed, so more men fall into the trap.”

  “Are you saying Father uses the dungeon to blackmail members of the elite into doing his bidding?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. You know how he operates. He finds weaknesses and exploits it.”

  “We’ll never be able to defeat someone like that,” Jackson says, frustration evident in the slump of his shoulders.

  “Yes, we will.” Determination surges through me. “We find his biggest weakness and exploit it until he’s crushed with no way of getting back up again.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  “Can we talk?” Xavier asks when the meeting breaks up.

  “Yeah. Just give me a sec to say goodbye to Kai.” He nods, and I walk over to where Kai is lounging against the door, watching Sawyer half-carry Jackson to the car. “Is he okay?” I ask, because I’ve noticed something off about Jackson the past couple weeks.

  “The anniversary of his sister’s death is approaching,” Kai confirms, pulling me into his arms. “He always goes a little off the rails.”

  “Can I do anything to help?”

  Kai tucks my hair behind my ears. “There isn’t anything anyone can do. It’s just something he has to go through.” He nuzzles his head into my neck. “I hate this part.”

  “Me too.” I run my hand up and down his back. “I hate that we only get snatched moments here and there.”

  “We need to find something to bury your father with and fast.”

  “Hopefully, my conversation with Trent’s mom will offer some leads.”

  “Anderson.” Sawyer’s tone is sharp. “We need to hit the road.” He jerks his head in the car’s direction.

  I stretch up on my tiptoes, kissing him passionately.

  “I love you,” he whispers over my lips. “Be safe.”

  “Love you too.” I hug him tight before letting him go.

  “Call me later.”

  I bob my head. I look forward to his nightly calls as the highlight of my day. I blow him a kiss before waving at Sawyer and heading back inside to chat with Xavier. “You okay to wait for a few minutes?” I ask Drew as I pass by him. He has his nose buried in his cell, and his fingers are punching buttons as he taps out a text.

  “I’m not in a rush, and I just messaged Charlie to say we’re grabbing something to eat after the movie, so take your time.”

  I walk into the main room, and Xavier closes the door behind me, looking nervous as he wrings his hands together. “I was so worried you’d never speak to me again,” he blurts. “I haven’t been able to eat or sleep all week for fear I’ve fucked everything up.”

  “How could you do that to me?” I prop my butt against the edge of the table, folding my arms across my chest.

  “I didn’t have a choice,” he admits, his voice wary. “When I first took the job, I thought it’d be a cakewalk, but then I got to know you, and I was smitten.”

  I purse my lips. “Attempting to flirt with me will not work.”

  He pushes off the wall, walking toward me. “I’m not flirting. I’m being honest. You’re an easy person to love, Abby. I’ve told you that before, and it’s true. You’re even easier to like, and I knew I was in deep shit within the first week.” His tongue flips against his lip ring in an obvious nervous tell. “But, as time went on, I convinced myself I wasn’t really doing anything wrong.”

  “How’d you figure that?”

  “Because Drew only wanted to protect you, and I was helping him to do that. I knew you’d be pissed when you eventually discovered the truth, but I hoped the fact I genuinely cared for you and that I didn’t tell him tons of stuff would make it easier for you to forgive me.” He stares at me pleadingly. “So, does it?” he asks, and I like his bluntness.

  “I know both of you thought you were doing the right thing, but I needed you to be true, Xavier. You were the last one. The only one I thought I could trust one hundred percent. The only one who hadn’t betrayed me.” Pain slices across my chest. “But then I discovered that was just a lie. That you were just like everyone else.”

  “No, babe.” Tentatively, he cups my face. “I’m not like everyone else. I’m your best friend. Nothing about what’s happened alters that fact. Even if you can’t forgive me. Even if you tell me to go away. I will always be your best friend. I will always care about you and ensure you’re safe.”

  “Did you tell him about Kai and me?”

  He shakes his head, dropping his hands from my face. “I didn’t have to. He could see it for himself. But I would’ve told him if he hadn’t figured it out because you were risking so much with Kai.” I suck in a sharp breath. I’m pleased he’s being honest with me, but that hurts too.

  Stress seeps from his pores, and remorse is clear on his face. “I tried not to betray your confidence, and I told Drew the bare minimum because you deserved to be happy, and you were happy with Kai. So, I was doing everything I could to ensure he wasn’t a threat to you. I only told Drew the things I felt it was important he knew. Only things that impacted your safety. I swear.”

  He rubs at a spot between his brows. “He went fucking apeshit on my ass after you told him about the Grid, demanding to know what else I’d kept secret, but I told him nothing, and he’s no right to demand anything of me now.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t work for him anymore. I quit the morning after the shootout. When I discovered you were missing and none of those fucktards kept you safe.” His nostrils flare. “Did the bastards tell you they kept me a virtual prisoner? I booked a plane ticket when Drew told me you were at Parkhurst, but they wouldn’t let me leave.” Frustration billows from his ears. “I didn’t care about the shit they were telling me. I just cared about getting you out of there.”

  His eyes plead with me, and my lip wobbles as I grapple to contain my emotions. If Xavier had come to Parkhurst, he’d be dead now. He’s smart enough to know that too, but he was still willing, and that speaks volumes. I want to hug the shit out of him, but I can’t forget he was lying to me for months.

  It’s so hard to remain steadfast.

  I mean, I’ve been able to put the other’s deceptions behind me, so I should be able to do the same for Xavier. But it’s different. In both a good and bad way. On the one hand, because he’s my closest friend—besides Jane—it makes it easier to understand and forgive. But that’s also the reason it’s harder. He was, is, my best friend, so the betrayal runs even deeper.

  But, then again, I felt the same way about Kai. And I’m giving him a second chance.

  Xavier deserves the same opportunity.

  “You understand you’ll have to win back my trust?” I ask.

  He nods his head vigorously. “I’ll do whatever it takes. Just don’t give up on me.”

  “You promise there will be no more secrets and lies?”

  “I promise.” His eyes radiate sincerity, and they’re bright with hope and expectation.

  I stop fighting it and wrap myself around him. His arms hug me in a warm embrace, and I shutter my eyes, clinging to my friend, praying we can find a way back to where we were. Because his friendship means so much to me. And I don’t want to lose him from my life.

  We hug it out, and then I pull back, eyeing him circumspectly. “Your deception hurt, Xavier. It hurt real bad. I’m surrounded by people I considered friends and family, and every person has betrayed me, but I’ve put those fee
lings aside for the others, so I’ll do the same for you.”

  He reaches for me, and I step back, holding up a palm. “But it doesn’t mean I forget or forgive. It means I’m giving you a chance to make it up to me, and if you fuck up, if you keep shit from me again, that is it for our friendship. It will be as dead as my father will be once we’re through with him.”

  “You are staying in the car,” I hiss, glaring at Drew. “She’ll probably clam up if she sees you.”

  “It’s not safe to hang around outside here by yourself.”

  I roll my eyes. Honestly, it’s like talking to a brick wall. “You will be right out here watching, and there’s no one around at this hour of night.” I flap my hands in the air, gesturing toward the quiet street outside. “And Sylvia will not hurt me.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “She was one of Mom’s best friends.” I level him with a “get real” look. “She won’t do anything to me.” I stretch my hand out to him. “But if it makes you feel better, give me your gun.” All the elite have a weapon in close possession, at all times. It was probably part of lesson one-oh-one at Parkhurst. Drilled into them from the time they were ten, when they first started going there.

  He fishes a gun out of the glove box and hands it to me. I check that the safety is on before tucking it in the back of my black pants and opening the car door.

  Drew tugs on my elbow. “Be careful.”

  I glance over my shoulder at him. “Sylvia is as harmless as a fly.”

  “I’ve learned to underestimate no one. You shouldn’t either.”

  It’s sage advice. “Duly noted. Now let me go before I miss her.”

  “I’ll shadow you, but if there are any issues, text me.”

  “Got it.” I press a kiss to his cheek. “Stop worrying.”

  He pulls my hand, lacing his fingers in mine. “You’re all I have left, Abby. I can’t bear the thought of anything happening to you.”

  “Nothing will happen to me. I know how to take care of myself, but I appreciate your concern.” I kiss his cheek again. “Now chill out. I’ll see you in a while.”

  I climb out of the car, shutting the door and watching as Drew moves it further along the road, pulling into the curb up ahead, where it’s less conspicuous. I don’t want to spook Trent’s mom before I’ve explained, because I need to pump her for intel.

  I wait outside the shrink’s office for ten minutes before she shows. She spots me instantly. “Abigail?” Her voice sounds clear, which is unusual because she’s usually strung out from drugs or booze or a concoction of both. I’m guessing she likes to show up for her therapy sessions looking like she’s got a handle on things.

  But I’ve been around her enough, heard Trent complain about her enough, to know it’s not the norm.

  “Hi, Mrs. Montgomery,” I say, smiling as I approach her.

  “I prefer Sylvia,” she says, and that doesn’t warrant an explanation.

  “I was hoping you had a few minutes to go for a coffee,” I say. “There are some things I’d like to ask you.”

  Her eyes dart around the area, her gaze turning suspicious. “The elite don’t know I’m here,” I say, answering her unspoken question. “Except for Drew.” Her eyes widen in alarm. “He won’t tell anyone about our meeting,” I rush to reassure her. “He’s trailing me purely to ensure I’m safe, and he means you no trouble.”

  “Is that the truth?”

  I don’t blame her for her caution. “Yes.” I step closer, relieved when her shoulders relax. “You were one of my mother’s best friends so that leads me to believe I can trust you. Can I trust you, Sylvia? Can I ask you about my mother and how she met my father and know that you won’t relay that back to your husband or your son or my father?”

  Fire dances in her eyes. “I would never betray any female in that way. And I avoid conversing with those men whenever I can help it.” She presses her key fob, lifting her shoulder. “Come on. There’s a coffee place off the beaten track a few minutes away. Let’s talk there.”

  I thought I’d have to blackmail her into talking to me, but I can see that won’t be necessary. Perhaps it’s because she’s sober, or maybe she’s lonely, or she’s waited for me to approach her about my mother, but whatever the reason, I’m grateful she seems willing to open up.

  “I’ve overheard my husband and son discussing elite business,” she says when we’re in the car and en route to the coffee shop. “And I’m surprised Drew is here supporting you.” She glances at me briefly. “Pleasantly surprised,” she adds. “But surprised none the less.”

  “He has my back, and he wants to protect me.” For the first time, I say it with conviction.

  She squeezes my knee, smiling. “I’m glad you two are still close, and I’m glad he hasn’t forgotten who he is. That he’s looking out for you.”

  “We both want to know about our mother. We know she was planning to escape with Atticus Anderson and that our father killed her for it.”

  Tense silence engulfs us, and she grips the steering wheel tighter. “I heard about what went down in the ballroom,” she says after a few seconds have passed, rounding the next bend. She looks me square in the eye. “I’ve been expecting you.”

  We don’t speak again until we’re at a small table tucked into the back of the unassuming coffee place. “Drew can join us if he likes,” she offers after we’ve placed our order.

  “Thank you, but I think it’s best he keeps watch from outside. Just in case.”

  “Okay.” She clasps her hands on top of the table, pinning her piercing blue eyes on me. It’s hard to look at her face and not see the resemblance to Trent. “What do you want to know?”

  “What happened to the child my mother was expecting? Because it was that pregnancy that sealed her fate and forced her into marriage to my father, right?”

  “How much do you want to know, Abby? Because some of this won’t be pleasant to hear.”

  The waitress sets our pie and coffee down, and I wait until she’s gone before replying. “I want to know it all, Sylvia. Hold nothing back. I know how the elite work, and I doubt there’s much you can say that’ll shock me.”

  “That truly hurts to hear,” she admits, placing her hand over mine. “Your mother fought so hard to protect you both so you wouldn’t have to endure the things she’d endured, we’d endured.” A shuddering breath leaves her lips as she stares off into space.

  “What happened to the baby?” I ask, holding my breath in anticipation.

  She shoots me a sympathetic look, squeezing my hand. “The baby was stillborn.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  “I’d wondered if that was the case or if we had another sibling out there somewhere,” I admit, feeling a pang of sorrow in my heart.

  “Your father discovered the child was Atticus’s, and he beat Olivia so badly she lost the baby.”

  Tears sting my eyes, and I swallow hard over the tormented lump in my throat.

  He stole her baby from her too.

  She squeezes my hand. “Your mother knew the baby had died because he’d stopped moving inside her, but your father refused to bring her to the hospital.”

  “It was a boy?” I whisper.

  She nods. “She was only four weeks away from her due date, and that bastard locked her in her bedroom until she went into labor.”

  My hand shakes as I bring the mug to my lips, sipping the hot liquid, barely feeling it scald my raw throat as I contemplate the horror of living through that.

  Knowing your husband killed your child and being forced to live with that until it was the time for the delivery must have been sheer hell.

  And imagine going through that pain knowing there was no joyful bundle at the end.

  A sob escapes my mouth, and I set my mug down, spilling coffee on the table.

  Sylvia gets up, rounding the table and putting her arm around me. “I’m so sorry, Abby.”

  “He killed my babies too,” I blurt, swiping at the hot
tears coursing down my face.

  “What?” Her shocked tone matches the mounting shock on her face as I explain.

  “Oh my God, Abby. I’m so sorry he did that to you!” She lets me go, pulling her chair over beside mine and sitting down. Her arms encircle me again, and I accept her comfort willingly. “I should’ve done more for you.” Genuine remorse flickers in her eyes. “Your mother would be so disappointed in me.”

  “We weren’t your responsibility, and I know what those bastards are like. Father wouldn’t have let you intervene.”

  “I tried, at the start, after your mother died. You probably don’t remember, but you and Drew used to sleep over at our house every weekend.” Her lips pull into a tight line. “It wasn’t much, but I tried to do fun stuff with all of you, so you had some time to just be normal children, but your father eventually put a stop to it.”

  She grips the edge of the table. “I went to your house, to plead with him to reconsider and… Well, it didn’t go as I’d planned.” Her face is as white as the tablecloth.

  “What did he do to you?”

  She shakes her head, and her lip wobbles. “I can’t talk about it. I’m sorry.” Gulping down the dregs of her coffee, she pulls a flask from her purse and pours whiskey into her mug, uncaring who sees. She knocks it back, her hand trembling. “You must think so little of me,” she says, shrugging in embarrassment.

  “I know you’ve seen me at my worst,” she continues, “but I tried fighting back, and eventually, Christian won. He broke me. Beat me down. Removed my fighting spirit. I watched my two best friends die after they attempted to escape, and I knew I was trapped. Christian took great delight in telling me how both my friends had been murdered, and he told me that would be my fate if I tried to do the same. So, I did the only thing I could.”

  She eyeballs me with her glassy gaze. “I checked out of life. I numb the pain and the reality, and it’s only these weekly sessions when I let it back in, when I remember what my life has been like, when I accept the pain for the punishment of standing by and letting my husband turn my son into a monster just like him.”