Page 100 of Unmask
I’d never seen a more tempting sight in my life than Kreed naked and aglow by firelight. The flames painted his skin in gold and shadow, highlighting every ridge of muscle, every line of ink that decorated his chest and arms. He could have been an ancient god of war, beautiful and dangerous and utterly mine… At least for a few hours he had been.
I bit my lip hard enough to taste copper.Move, Kaylor. If you don’t go now, you won’t be able to leave.
My brain somehow got the message, forcing my feet to move one in front of the other. Each step felt like walking through quicksand, my body fighting my mind. The ache in my chest grew heavier, spreading outward through my veins.
It was time.
Time to do the one thing I told myself I wouldn’t. To lie. To manipulate. To betray those who had betrayed me first, but this wasn’t about revenge. The Corvo boys somehow managed to do the impossible; they’d redeemed themselves, proved they were more than the monsters I’d thought them to be. But it wasn’t enough.
I had no choice. Not really.
This was about Kenny.
And if I didn’t do this… If I didn’t make the trade, if I didn’t show up at that meeting spot alone, she’d pay the price. I couldn’t let that happen. Not when her blood would be on my hands, not when I was the reason she’d been dragged into this nightmare in the first place.
Even if it meant becoming the villain in their story.
Kreed would be fuming when he figured it out, but I was counting on his anger to make him come after me. If anyone could find me, it was him. I had to believe that, or this whole plan would fall apart.
Phase one of sacrificing my life: slip sleeping pills into their drinks. Pretty messed up, but they’d done way worse to me. That thought didn’t make the guilt any lighter.
I tiptoed upstairs, the hardwood cold beneath my bare soles. The house was quiet except for the distant murmur of voices from the living room and the soft crackle of the dying fire. I crept down the hall to Aunt Char’s bathroom, my heart hammering so loudly I was sure someone would hear it.
She and my uncle were still overseas and would be for a few more weeks. Hopefully by then, this would all be over and I could get back to living my life like a damn normal senior on the verge of graduating. Hell, I prayed I could still graduate. I prayed I’d still bealiveto graduate.
Aunt Char’s bathroom hadn’t changed in years. The same sleek tub in the corner and the same French tiles around the bathtub. It still smelled faintly of eucalyptus and old lipstick, scents that reminded me of childhood visits and simpler times. I opened the cabinet behind the mirror, the hinges squeaking softly in protest.
I rummaged past ancient cold medicine and dusty hairpins, bottles of expired vitamins, and tubes of face cream. Finally, I found what I was looking for…the sleeping pills. I didn’t know how strong they were, but I had to take my chances.
I tipped a handful, smooth white tablets that looked so innocent, so harmless, into my palm. This was the part that crossed a line. The point of no return. Once I crushed these, once they were in the drinks…that was it.
I just needed enough to knock out four Corvos who never let their guards down. Four Corvos who would try to stop me if they knew what I was planning. And of course, I couldn’t forget Evan and his friend outside.
My stomach rolled as I cradled the pills in my hand. “I’m sorry,” I whispered to the mirror, as if speaking it couldsomehow make it better, but the apology was ash on my tongue, bitter and worthless. My reflection stared back at me with hollow eyes, and she didn’t forgive me.
As I trotted downstairs, I passed the boys in the living room. The TV was on low; none of them were really watching. They were busy on their phones, scrolling through social media or checking messages.
Maddox was sprawled in the big armchair, one leg thrown over the side, completely relaxed in a way I’d rarely seen him. Mason had claimed the other end of the couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table. Raine sat cross-legged on the floor, his back against the couch, looking younger than his years in the flickering light.
They trusted me. That was the worst part. They’d finally let their walls down, and I was about to exploit that trust in the cruelest way possible.
I swallowed hard and kept walking, the pills burning in my closed fist as I made my way into the kitchen. My hands shook as I pulled ingredients from the cabinets, the simple act of making cocoa feeling like preparing for execution. Whipped cream swirled in thick clouds. Shaved chocolate curled from the block like delicate flowers. Anything to make the taste stronger, richer, more decadent. Anything to hide the bitterness of the crushed pills burning a hole in my pocket.
One by one, I doctored each mug. Kreed’s first. Then Maddox’s, Raine’s, and Mason’s. I made two more for the guards outside, pouring them into black thermoses.
The pills dissolved quickly when I stirred them in, leaving behind nothing. I made one for myself as well. The only one untouched. No pills. Just warm milk and cocoa, because I knew someone would notice if I didn’t have a drink too.
The mugs steamed on the tray, cheerful and innocent, but I knew better. They weren’t comfort. They were betrayal in disguise, wrapped in whipped cream and good intentions.
My heart raced so loudly I was sure they could hear it from the other room, the sound thundering in my ears. I wasn’t doing this because I didn’t care. I was doing this because I did, and if it cost me everything, Kreed, the Crew, the trust we were slowly rebuilding, I’d carry that burden, because if this worked, if I made the trade and brought Kenny home, the cost would be worth it.
I just had to survive it first.
I lined the mugs up on a tray, but the moment I picked them up, the enormity of what I was doing nearly buckled my knees. My hands trembled so violently I almost dropped the whole damn thing, cocoa sloshing dangerously close to the rims.
“Fuck,” I hissed, unable to believe I was doing this.
The night air bit at my skin as I stepped out onto the porch, two black thermoses warming my hands. The guards stood in their usual spots, shadows against the pale moonlight. Evan was by the stairs, and the other guard leaned against the railing, his eyes scanning the tree line. They tensed when the door squeaked open, hands moving instinctively toward their weapons, but relaxed when they saw me. Just the harmless girl they were protecting.
