Home > The Lying Season (Seasons #1)(17)

The Lying Season (Seasons #1)(17)
Author: K.A. Linde

I cursed colorfully and then turned back to the party. I had no interest in talking to anyone now. Except maybe Penn and Natalie and Camden and knocking some sense into them. Katherine might appear indestructible, but she wasn’t.

And neither was I.

The realization hit me hard. I didn’t know if I could last another six months with Sam in the office. I didn’t know what I was going to do.

It was impossible not to have feelings for him. Even if it was just anger about what had happened, the choice he had made, and the way it had all ended. But I knew that anger was so mixed up with other emotions. Ones that I couldn’t act on. And yet, I had to be around him.

It was like a festering wound. When I was away from him, sometimes, I could forget that I was rotting from the inside. But every time he was near, the wound would throb with a white-hot, pain-filled reminder.

I was done with this party. I couldn’t think clearly. And I was done lamenting the gaping hole in my chest.

Just as I turned to follow Katherine out, the lights switched off. I stalled as everyone in the room screamed. I blinked a few times as my eyes adjusted to the light. A few people turned their phone flashlights on, illuminating the space like a horror film. But the floodlights appeared overhead a few seconds later.

The screams died down, and everyone just looked around the room in confusion. But instead of standing around like an idiot, I immediately went into action. This wasn’t my event. I shouldn’t care less what happened with it. But it wasn’t in me.

So, I hustled past the stunned group toward the stage where I could see a crowd forming. I pushed up to the front and then stopped, my jaw dropping when I saw what everyone was staring at.

Court Kensington was in handcuffs.

His girlfriend, Jane, was also handcuffed, standing next to him, staring blankly.

Penn and Natalie were speaking to the arresting officers, but it didn’t look like they were getting anywhere. In fact, it seemed to only get worse. Because Court couldn’t let anything stand. He had to run his big mouth.

I ran a hand back through my perfectly sculpted hair. Fuck. This was bad. This was really, really bad.

Not just for Court and Jane.

No, it was bad for the campaign.

It was bad for Leslie.

What the fuck was the mayor of New York City going to do when she discovered her son had been arrested? What would the press say when they found out? Leslie was tough on crime. This was going to be a huge setback. And I didn’t even know how to process this.

But I did know one thing…someone needed to call the mayor.

And with Penn talking to the police and dealing with his brother, I knew that…it was going to have to be me.

I groaned as I pulled out my phone. This was not going to be pleasant.

I swallowed hard and then pressed the number for the mayor. She answered on the third ring.

“Lark, it’s one in the morning. This had better be an emergency,” Leslie said into the phone.

“It is,” I said with a sigh and a trace of fear. “Court was just arrested with Jane at the big Happily Ever After charity function.”

“Arrested?” she demanded. “Whatever for?”

“It’s unclear. The officers don’t seem to be explaining what happened. Jane is remaining silent, but Court is…”

“Not,” Leslie guessed. She sighed, but she sounded rattled. “Tell him to keep his mouth shut, and I’ll be there soon to deal with this.”

“I’ll let him know. I think Penn is going to the police station with him. I’ll go with him and let you know which one.”

“Thank you, Lark. Once again, you’re a lifesaver in helping me deal with my son.” She was silent for a second. “Well, we will fix it.”

“Yes, we will.”

“Lark,” she said softer than before, “does he seem okay?”

I looked between her two sons. And no…neither of them seemed okay.

“I don’t know,” I admitted.

She sighed. “That’s what I was afraid of. Go help my son. I’ll figure this out.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I hung up the phone and stepped forward, passing the predetermined demarcation. The police were telling everyone to leave the building, that the party was over, and Trinity was closed. That couldn’t be a good sign for whatever was going on with Court and Jane.

Penn stepped away from Natalie and toward Court.

“Penn,” I called.

“I thought you’d left already,” he said when I approached him. He looked physically shaken. Like his world had just imploded.

“I was going to, but I had a change of heart. What’s going on with Court? Do you know why he’s being arrested?”

Penn shook his head. “Court is denying anything happened. The officers are being tight-lipped. I guess we’ll find out at the police station. It’s bullshit. I need to call my mother.”

“I already did,” I told him. “She’s coming to fix it.”

“She’s coming?” he asked with raised eyebrows. “Herself?”

“Yes. She said that she’d be there. She seemed…shaken.”

“It’s an act,” he said without skipping a beat. “She’s only thinking of the campaign.”

“I don’t think so. She didn’t mention the campaign on the phone.”

But I could see that Penn was second-guessing his assumption. I was the asshole who had thought of the campaign first.

“My car is out front,” he said. “We should probably follow them.”

I nodded. “All right. Are you okay?”

“No. No, I’m not.” His eyes were sad and distant. “You?”

And I realized…I wasn’t. I wasn’t okay with any of this. My best friends weren’t speaking. Everyone was arguing. Court had just been arrested. Leslie was even upset. Leslie, who was impenetrable.

I wanted to put it all back together. Just like with my now-nonexistent relationship with Sam. If I’d tried to put it back together then…maybe we wouldn’t be here. Or maybe we would.

All I knew was that things weren’t okay. I fixed things for a living, and I didn’t know how to fix this.

 

 

11

 

 

Sam

 

 

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

“Sam,” Claire hissed. “Your phone is ringing. Silence it or answer it or something.”

I blearily opened my eyes and reached for my phone on the nightstand. The screen lit up again. I squinted at the name that appeared on the device. What the hell? Why was Lark calling me at one o’clock in the morning? Was she drunk?

I silenced the phone and set it back facedown with a yawn. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine,” she muttered, already half-asleep.

But then the phone started to ring again.

I snatched it off the nightstand with a curse. I threw the covers off of me and stumbled out of the one bedroom and into the tiny living space.

With a deep breath, I answered the phone, “Hello?”

“Sam,” Lark said in relief, “you answered.”

She didn’t sound drunk. Not even a little. She sounded…uncertain, almost soft…vulnerable.

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