If only.
“Daddy didn’t take me to meet a new guard. He took me to the family cabin, cussing me out the whole time for shaving my head.” I swallow hard. “There was a whole guilt trip about the family needing me, and me not coming through for him.” My eyes focus on my hands. My fingernails are rough and splintered. “He lost his temper and locked me in my closet. Said he was going to keep me in there until my hair grew back.”
Sloan is so still, he could pass for a statue.
By some feat of superhuman strength, I manage to lift my chin. “I don’t think he meant it. He was counting on being able to talk me into giving him more power. Apparently, the strand of hair I’d given him wasn’t enough. He wanted more, which I guess is no great surprise.”
Sloan is silent still, but Gray lets his frustration show. “He’s a power junkie. A bloody addict, and nothing more. You did the right thing, shaving your head. Cut him off at the source.”
My head bobs. “Dad just wanted to scare me, keeping me in the dark like that. Let me know he was still in control.” My shoulder bumps to Paxton’s, and then to Gray’s. “If these two hadn’t shown up, I would still be in there.”
Then Paxton tells his part of the story, which involved them going into the palace and busting out Sloan with Cassia doing most of the heavy lifting. Then comes the harrowing part of them using Charlotte’s locating ability to track me down and break me out.
Paxton gets to the part where his father shows up, and then stops before he can get much farther.
I open my mouth to take full blame for both murders, but Gray jumps in before I can. “I wrestled the gun away from the king and shot him. Then Mr. Valentine started choking Arly, so I shot him, too.”
I guffaw in time with Paxton. As if either of us are going to let Gray take the blame for our crimes.
“Tell me how you wrestled a gun away from Regis after you were shot in the leg,” I counter, indignant that Gray would sacrifice himself like that, and think he can get away with more. “You know it was me.” I level my gaze at Sloan. “I killed the king and Dad.”
Paxton stands, the faux confession falling over him. “They’re taking the blame for something I did. I killed my father and Conan. Gray was right about the setting. Conan was choking Arlanna, so I shot him.”
Sloan stares at all three of us, taking in our conflicting stories with skepticism. Finally, he points to me. “I can tell when you’re lying, young lady. The trouble is, I can’t tell which part is the fib. Tell me again what you did.”
My shoulders roll back as I attempt to iron out any semblance of a tell. This is the incident of me lying about the broken coffee cup all over again. He’s not going to win this time.
“When the guys broke me out of the closet, Paxton set the cabin on fire with his death glare, so we could escape. Only, when we went out the backdoor, King Regis was waiting there for us. Apparently, my hair is the one thing all the evil overlords want.” I try to picture the events and recall them in chronological order. The whole thing is such a blur. “Regis had a gun, so I tackled him and got the gun from him. Then I shot him, because… because…” My eyes flick to Sloan. “Because I thought he killed you.”
When Sloan doesn’t speak, I try to keep my voice a mix of casual and matter-of-fact, wondering what exactly my tell is. I move to touch my hair and coil a curl around my finger, but of course, my hand lands on nothing.
I clear my throat. “After that, Daddy came after me, so I shot him, too. Then we got out of there as fast as we could.”
Paxton raises his hand. “My version is the exact same, but with me holding the gun. I shot them both.”
Gray moves his shoulder partially in front of me, as if to shield me from Sloan even perceiving I’m capable of such things. “My version, too. I had the gun. I shot them. Then Paxton dragged the bodies into the cabin, so they would burn. He tried to cover up the evidence to save me, but it was me.”
Paxton and I both shake our heads as if they’re tethered to the same string. “If you think we’re going to let you go up against the justice system that’s biased against you, you’re insane. You were shot trying to save Arlanna, and you’re still going to have a rough time not getting into trouble just for being near the scene of our crimes.”
Sloan smirks, his lips pulling to the side. “Well, apparently all three of you have easy tells. It would be pathetic if it wasn’t so sweet.” When he leans forward, his face turns all business. “Now, listen to me. You’ll say nothing of this. Not a thing. I’m not interested in any of you going to jail for fixing the world. When the police come, this is the story: Regis and his men jumped me and held me hostage. Paxton and Cassia got me out,” he pauses to lock gazes with Gray. “Sorry, Son, but Paxton’s right. They smell you near anything foul, and the responsibility will fall on you. You were at the commune all day. Charlotte will swear to it.” Then Sloan holds his hand perpendicular to the floor as he continues the story we’re all supposed to be taking notes on. “I know where the family cabin is. Of course that’s where I went the second I was liberated from the palace. You two wankers stayed here, waiting for Arly to come home, but I went to the cabin. It took lighting the cabin on fire and killing King Regis and Conan to get her out, but that’s what I did.”
My mouth falls open. “You are the most obnoxious bull I’ve ever met.”
Sloan stands when the doorbell rings. “And you told me everything I need to know to keep you from getting locked up again.” He looks like he’s barely recovered from his beating, but his calm control over the situation is still impressive.
I dart to the door, throwing my arms in front of it to block his exit. “You’re insane if you think I’m going to let you take the heat for me. This is my show, and you don’t get to be on the hook for it.” Righteous anger stirs in my breast as I stare him down. “I am not my father. I will not pass off my sins onto the people I’m supposed to protect.”
Emotion passes behind Sloan’s eyes. “Do you really think I’d let you do that? You’ve been locked away long enough. It’s my turn. My hands are plenty dirty. Just because you beat me to this particular murder doesn’t mean a thing. You’re sitting this one out, bunny.”
Jen calls up for us, telling us we have a visitor. I know it’s got to be the cops, showing up to take us in.
These are my sins. These are my people.
So I slip out of the door and run down the stairs as quick as I can, ready with my confession.
20
Chief Sander and His Peppermints
Arlanna
Though the guys are right behind me, I’m first to the door. Jen’s look of warning is the only thing that shuts my mouth.
“Sit down, everyone. The chief of police says he has some terrible news.”
My eyebrows raise, though I probably shouldn’t be surprised that the chief came alone, rather than accompanied by a smattering of cops. “Hello, Sander.” I state his first name, rather than his title. Rather than asking him what he’s here for.