“Told you more than once I don’t know anything. Dad asked me to make sure the vote went our way. That’s what I’m doing.”
“You’re doing more than that, and you’re fooling me about as much as you’re fooling Bedlamites. Here’s some advice from the good angel on your shoulder: ask your brother about the hold Roan has over people. Someone tried to kill the guy and people will still riot if anything happens to him.
“I’m telling you now, whatever you’re thinking of doing—don’t. You will destroy any chance of getting the town to vote for Foundry. I can’t let you blow this,” I said. “Because if you do, I won’t get my cut of what I strongly suspect is a whole lot of stinkin’ money. My farm is going to need some repairs. Plus, I’m thinking of a complete kitchen/living room renovation.”
“What is this? Blackmail?”
“How am I blackmailing you, Jeremy? I don’t have anything to hold over your head. No, this is me trying to save you from making a mistake. Again. Stop and think. You know I’m right.”
He hummed. “Thank you for the advice. I’ll take it under advisement.”
“Where are you?” I asked, because I had to.
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
“Jer—”
Click.
I stood there, pain and frustration battling. Despite what we said, I wanted to tear both towns apart looking for him. There was no way to know if what I said got through to Jeremy. The bitter, petty man stored hatred for Roan since the video, and it’s been brewing for weeks.
This was his chance to let all that rage out.
“Rain.”
Cairo stepped out from behind the gate, and took my hand. I let him lead me inside.
“Anything?” he asked.
“No. Jeremy wouldn’t tell me where they are.”
“He doesn’t trust you.”
“No,” I whispered. “I’m the first he blames when something goes wrong. He’s looking for a reason. If I keep calling and begging him to tell me, he’ll know who I truly care about. But still that’s all I want to do.”
“Begging doesn’t appeal to a man like Jeremy Ellis. Bragging does. He’ll tell us all on his own.”
By then it’ll be too late, went unsaid.
Cairo took me through a charming home that reeked class in the molding, and family in the dozens of photos of her and Roan spanning the hallway. He was making faces in most of them, completely ruining the pictures with up-closes of his nostril hairs and his tongue hanging out of his mouth.
My giggles quickly turned to sobs. I didn’t have to ask anyone about the hold Roan had over people. He hooked me with the first flash of his grin.
The guys waited in the library with Josephine. Roan’s mom paced the carpet in her bathrobe, flicking to the phone every five seconds and willing it to ring.
A buzzer rang and she ran to the door panel.
“Jo.” Sheriff Jack came through the call box. “We’re outside. You got my boy in there?”
“He’s here. They’re all here.”
I wasn’t.
I got up and excused myself to the bathroom. I hadn’t progressed to the point I could be in the same room as Jack Sharpe and not try to claw his eyes out. Cairo was right to keep an eye on me the nights we tried to crack his safe.
In the bathroom, I splashed water on my face.
I was half a second away from crawling out of my skin and swirling down the drain. I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to call Jeremy.
My phone chimed as I fished it out. I checked the screen.
Number Blocked.
Thumb moving of its own power, I tapped open, allowing the video to play.
The blackness bled on the screen. Spinning to make me dizzy, I caught a flash of light, then the cameraman settled on three masked faces, and Roan.
I clapped my hand over my mouth, smothering my scream.
Roan’s nose, mouth, and forehead leaked gore on the ground. Two of the masked men held him upright. One by the hair so everyone could see.
“Welcome, all, to a time-honored Bedlam tradition.”
Muffled as it was by the mask, I could not mistake that voice.
“Jeremy,” I hissed.
“It’s the one, the only, Riot Royale!”
More figures filtered in and out of the shot, hooting and hollering. There was nothing on their necks, but I figured out their little tricks with makeup a long time ago.
“Legend,” I screamed. “Legend!”
I bolted out of the bathroom and ran into the library, startling Davidson into reaching for his gun.
“Look. This video was just sent to me.”
Legend shoved Davidson aside rushing to me.
“—my terms,” said the masked Jeremy. “If I win, Banks admits he’s behind the cheating scandal and that the Crows selling tests is as made-up as that little video he screened at the party. After his apology and confession tour, he’ll drop out of Bedlam U, unlatch from Mommy’s teat, and start over at minimum a thousand fucking miles from here. Accepted?”