“Sure.” He sounded bored. “Why have you been avoiding me?”
“Did you have something to do with what happened to Lyric?” The question tore at my heart as I said it out loud.
His eyes bored into me, and his jaw tightened. “Christ, he’s really got you drinking the Kool-Aid.”
“Answer the question, Caspian.”
“No.”
The song hit its crescendo, and my stomach dropped.
“No, you won’t answer the question, or no, you had nothing to do with it?” A heady cocktail of panic and fear brewed inside me while I awaited his answer.Say no.
“No. I had nothing to do with it. Next.” He stepped closer to the stage where I sat.
“Why was she at your house the night before she died? Did you give her drugs?”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “First, I’m a murderer, now I’m a drug dealer. Jesus, Tatum. Do you even hear yourself right now?”
The music stopped. The sounds that had always been a comfort to me fell silent, leaving nothing but my heartbeat thrumming in my ears.
“Why was she at your house, Caspian?” I hated the way our voices were raised.
“Who told you she was at my house? Lincoln? Because he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about.”
“So, she wasn’t at your house that night?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m trying to—"
I hopped off the stage and held a finger up to stop him. “Don’t. Don’t you dare say you’re trying to protect me. I’m sick and tired of people lying to me, then using that bullshit excuse to cover it up. Stop treating me like a child. I’m a grown ass woman, and I can protect myself.” I shoved at his chest. “Idecide what I can handle and what I can’t. Not my father. Not Lincoln. And not you.” I strengthened my resolve and looked him in the eye. “Was. She. At. Your. House? Yes or no? It’s that simple.”
“Yes.”
No.
No. No. No.
It was just a word. But it might as well have been a meteor crashing down on my world, because it left a gaping hole in my chest and the impact knocked the breath out of me. It felt as though the ground was giving out beneath my feet. My entire body went cold, and I wanted to vomit.
She was there.My best friend was with the man I gave my soul to the night before I let him have it, the night before she died. Now, he was saying he didn’t know anything about it.
Well, I called bullshit.
“Why?” My question was barely audible.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It doesn’t matter?”
“No, Tatum. It doesn’t fucking matter. She wasn’t there for me. It doesn’t concern us. And that’s all you need to know.”
So, hedidknow why she was there. He justchosenot to tell me.
I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping when I opened them again, I would wake up in my bed, and this would all be a figment of my imagination, a result of working too hard. I took a deep breath, then opened them again.
It was real. I was in the theater, and Caspian was still here, still refusing to trust me with the truth. I was fed up with the lies.
“You should leave.” I didn’t know what to think. This was all too much. I wasn’t sure how to process any of it.
He shook his head. “I’m not leaving.” His eyes were dark but gentle when they met mine. “This isn’t our fight. I swear if you’ll just trust me, just give me some time, I’ll find the answers we’re both looking for.”
Why wouldheneed answers?
Time? He wanted more time? It had been four years, and her death still seemed to haunt us all.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “How do you find answers when the only one who can give them to you is dead?”