Page 2 of Lovely Deceit

Leo doesn’t move as the other Knights disperse. They talk normally—business, family, social get-togethers—as if we didn’t drop a poor girl into the river minutes before. They’re utterly unfazed.

While everyone strolls toward the castle for brandy and cigars, I lose Oliver and Eden. Inside, I’m barely keeping it together, but on the exterior, I walk casually in the direction I saw them last when one of the boats tied up to the barrier wall starts, the engine purring to life.

Eden is slumped against the aft seating area while Oliver hastily unties the ropes. “Hey,” I call out.

He ignores me.

I stride toward them quickly, pulling the robe of my hood down so he knows it’s me. “Oliver!”

His gaze snaps up to mine, and he scowls. “Stay the fuck back.”

A figure steps up next to me. Leo’s presence is almost a surprise. The Knights said he was following her. Why? Has he been playing her this whole time?

Better question: Why the hell did Eden leave the house without telling any of us? I’d believed we were getting somewhere, but I guess there are still too many secrets separating our fucked-up group.

“Oliver, I’ll help,” I try again.

He snarls out a laugh. “Like you just did?”

I snap my jaw shut. I’m sure being the bastard son of a royal comes with its own shittiness, so he should know the pressure we’re under. There was nothing any of us could do.

Leo takes a more direct tactic and strides toward the boat, attempting to get on as if he can’t read the signals Oliver is giving off.

Oliver yanks on the last rope, and it unravels on the boat floor. Spinning, he grabs hold of a fire extinguisher and aims it at Leo. “Fuck. Off.”

Leo sighs. “What are you going to do, Number Five?” he taunts, using Eden’s playful nickname for him.

Oliver tugs the pin out and aims the nozzle at Leo before pulling the trigger. Puffs of white clouds shoot at Leo, and he staggers back, his ass hitting the grass.

The boat’s engine growls in the lingering clouds and then the vessel takes off. Oliver maneuvers it deftly, cutting a wide U-turn through the black water.

“Fuck,” Leo spits. When the haze clears, he’s left standing there, cloaked in white, as if he stepped out of a marshmallow. “Royal dick,” he bellows after the retreating boat.

He marches toward another small vessel and jumps in.

“What are you doing?”

“Going after their asses.”

“He clearly doesn’t want you to.”

“Does it look like I give a fuck, Barclay?”

Just as he’s released all the ties, I grab one up, holding the boat as he turns the key in the ignition. “What are you up to? Why do you care?”

“I could ask you that same question. Let go. I’m taking off, and I don’t give a fuck what happens to your preppy little outfit.”

“What does your grandfather want with Eden?”

Leo laughs cruelly, the sound seeming to echo off the water and come back ten times as sinister. He moves the throttle forward, and I have no choice but to jump into the boat.

Leo spins, grabbing me by the sides of my robe and gets in my face. “Why are you at Carnegie? You said it wasn’t because of the Knights, but I call bullshit.”

I push him off me, and the waves from Oliver’s escape bobble our boat, throwing Leo off kilter. He trips, using the captain’s chair to steady himself.

Roaring, he comes at me again, fists flying. He connects with my left cheek, pain bursting in its wake.

I counter, lowering my shoulder to drive him back into the captain’s chair. He hammers his fists against my back, and we end up a wrestling mess.

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