Page 73 of Liars

His eyes flicked to his sons again, his lips pressing into a thin line. Then back to me. “How often are you having these nightmares?”

What he really wanted to know was how many nights his sons had snuck into my room or if this was the first.

Maddox straightened, his scowl firmly in place. Mason didn’t even bother hiding his smirk. Kreed stayed silent, his hands shoved in his pockets, avoiding his father’s disapproving glare.

My guardian sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Kaylor, you’ve been through a lot. It’s no surprise you’re having nightmares. If they’re that upsetting, it’s best you see someone instead of relying on my sons for support. Their focus needs to be elsewhere, especially with the championship game coming up next weekend. Maybe it’s time you talk to someone about it.”

Support.That was definitely a subtle reprimand. A way to remind them where their priorities should lie.Their focus needed to be elsewhere. Not in my bedroom.

“You want me to see a shrink?” I forced out the words, my insides writhing.

“A therapist,” Donovan clarified, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’re carrying unresolved trauma from your parents’ deaths, and it’s obviously affecting you. We’ll set up anappointment this week before it bleeds into other areas of your life like school.”

Bleeds.A deliberate word choice.

I nodded stiffly. I wasn’t sure how I felt about talking to a stranger. But maybe…maybe they could help me with more than just my parents.

Like how to get out of this fucking arrangement.

Donovan turned to his sons, his expression hard. “And as for you three… You need to get your heads on straight. The championship game is coming up. Colleges are watching. Scouts will be in attendance. You don’t have time for whatever nonsense went on last night.”

Mason opened his mouth, probably to be a smartass, but Donovan silenced him with a look.

“You had your fun. You don’t win trophies or get scouted by showing up distracted. Now it’s time to get serious. I won’t tolerate distractions,” my godfather warned.

Distractions? Am I the distraction?

Kreed lifted his eyes, his jaw locked with restraint. “We’re ready.”

“Good,” Donovan clipped out, holding Kreed’s eyes for a strained moment. “Kaylor, I’ll make that call. It’s probably a good idea after everything that happened for you to talk to someone.” He turned and walked out of the room, his footsteps echoing down the hall.

The tension lingered even after he was gone.

Mason let out a low whistle, shaking his head as he picked up the discarded Joker card. “Well, that was fun.”

“Shut up, Mason,” Maddox snapped, shoving off the bed.

Kreed’s eyes met mine, dark and veiled, then he turned away in silence, following Donovan into the shadows beyond the doorway. Maddox and Mason trailed after him, their voices low as they bickered on their way down the hall.

I sat there, staring at the empty doorway, my heart still racing. If Donovan suspected there was more to the story, he hadn’t pressed it—for now, but something told me this wasn’t the end of it.

And I wasn’t sure how much more of this house, these people, or my fraying nerves I could take.

20

KAYLOR

Just fabulous.

My godfather was sending me to a shrink.

Me and my big mouth.

So much for quick thinking. Now I was stuck going to therapy, something I had nothing against, in theory. My mental health was important. But no amount of talking to a stranger would fix what was wrong with me, because the only cure for what ailed me was finding out what really happened to my parents. If they were murdered, then knowing who did it was how I started to heal.

While Donovan made the call to a therapist, I took advantage of my time alone. I needed to speak to the detective assigned to my parents’ case. I should have reached out sooner.

Guilt nipped at me as I pulled out the card I’d been keeping tucked beneath my mattress, hidden away like a secret. I ran my thumb over the raised letters.

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