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Micah had spent the entire night alone in the woods… I’m not even sure he slept.
I tilt my head. “And you didn’t?”
A definitive pause. “Not like he did.”
My stomach clenches and hunger pains my belly at Maison’s words. The acknowledgment that we are in danger and the possibility we won’t be found… He senses my hesitation, my fear. “We’ll be okay, London. Someone will come for us.”
He sounds like me, telling Madison words of comfort right before she died in my arms yesterday.
I stop and face him. “Why did you come with me, Maison?”
He frowns. “I couldn’t let you come out here alone.”
I cock a brow. “Micah could have since he’s so adept at the wilderness. Why you?”
“Maybe I like you, London,” he says with a coy smile and cocks a brow. “Is it so bad I wanted to get you alone?”
I draw in a long breath. Those were the same words Chris said to me when he cornered me after a late-night rehearsal, when he slid his fingers along my back, tickling the curves of my body.
I like you, London, he had told me. He was waiting for a chance with me. He planned it, so no one else was around when he kissed me. He could have done more than kiss me if he wanted to…
I shudder hearing those words again and the shooting thrill I got from it because it was so wrong. My obsession with my teacher came after that kiss, never having received that type of attention before. The same sensation pushes through me now, knowing how dangerous these twins truly are.
Deadly amounts of drugs, those bruises on Olivia, half truths, and buried secrets.
“Not good enough,” I breathe out. “I’ve given you no reason to like me, and I’m not even your type. Maison, we’re strangers, and you have a girl back there that really wants your attention.
His forehead creases. “I told you, Serena is not my girlfriend. I make sure she’s taken care of, but not like that.” He cocks his head. “And not my type? What do you think my type is?”
I shake my head. “I know what kind of guy you are, Maison, so you will not convince me otherwise. I’ve heard the stories.”
His dark eyes flash, pupils flare. “Stories, London. You know nothing about me or Micah, or any sort of truth. All you’ve heard is bullshit from people who like to talk too much and write shit about people.”
I swallow hard and face him. What does he know about my level of intelligence? “So tell me then, true or false, is there a dead girlfriend?” I pause and wait for him to accept my bait. I need to handle this situation carefully since I know more truth than he is aware of.
“Truth.”
I flip my eyes to meet his, my heart racing at this game we are about to play. His face is hard now, like I imagine Micah’s would be if I was questioning him. Maison’s teeth grind into his bottom lip, waiting and daring me to ask him… like he’s getting off on it.
“Was she with Micah the night she died?”
“Truth.”
My eyebrows rise along with my pulse.
“Was she with Micah when she died?” A slightly different question.
A pause and he doesn’t blink. I already know the answers to all these questions—they are public knowledge. What I am trying to gage is his reaction when I ask him. “Truth.”
Now for the real questions.
I hesitate for only a moment. “Do you and Micah share girlfriends?”
He flexes his jaw, the flare in his eyes hard to ignore. I narrow my eyes, my stomach flipping at the fire flickering in his pupils. I swat a large fly buzzing around me, irritating me beyond belief. I want to ask which one of them hurt her, if it was him who physically hurt Olivia. Mentally, she was obviously a fucking mess, but those bruises…
He moves in closer to me. My breath is heavy, and he leans in and whispers in my ear, “No more questions till you give me something in return, London King. And I told you earlier, I will not answer questions about Micah.”
My breath catches and heat thrills down my spine. He moves ahead with grace and ease, as if he didn’t just render me speechless. I stand with my mouth gaping open, the whispers of his breath still lingering in my ear.
