Page 12 of Unmask
It took me longer than I was willing to admit to finagle the toaster, but I could reheat coffee like a proifthis place had a microwave, which, of course, it didn’t. I’d been here for less than twenty-four hours, and I already missed my life and all the things I took for granted, like having a fully stocked fridge and pantry at my disposal any time of the day.
I wasn’t going to last a day here. Something about being alone and isolated in a strange place set me on edge, and cold coffee alone wasn’t going to be enough to calm me.
Opening the freezer, I improvised, pulling out a tray of ice and popping a handful of cubes into my coffee. While I waited for my toast, I sat at the kitchen table, staring out into the endless stretch of trees.
What the hell am I supposed to do now?
Process what happened and what I learned?
Yeah, I sure as hell didn’t want to do that.
I could hardly believe last night was real, and shoving all the feelings inside a nice little compartmentalized box somewhere in the dark crevice of my brain seemed so much healthier than dealing with it. I was fucking tired of crying. My eyes couldn’t handle any more, puffy and bloodshot as they were.
Sipping on the iced coffee, I winced at the bitterness. What I wouldn’t do for some sugar and cream.
The harshness of my situation settled deep in my bones, whether I wanted it there or not. Controlling my brain wasn’t as easy as snapping my fingers.
The betrayal. The fucking stupidity of it all. How could I have been so foolish?
My chest ached, a slow burn of anger and something else. Something I wasn’t ready to name. I had started to trust Kreed. Not just tolerate him but trust him. And Mason and Maddox, too, at least a little. But not like Kreed. No, he was different. I thought I saw another side to him. Was that all part of his persona? Was any of it real? God, I’d fucking slept with him!
He didn’t just make me trust him. He made me want him, and that was the most dangerous part because I had started to believe the lies wrapped in skilled hands and stolen glances, in the quiet moments when he wasn’t a Corvo and I wasn’t the girl his father stole. I had started to think that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as bad as I thought. Thathewas on my side. How fucking foolish. Kreedwasthe bad guy. Well, relatively speaking, considering my father had apparently been one, too. That realization cracked deep and jagged inside me. If I couldn’t trust Kreed and I couldn’t trust my father’s memory, then who the hell could I trust? The answer curdled in my gut. No one. Not anymore.
The toaster popped.
I jumped, the sound yanking me out of my rabbit hole. “Screw this,” I murmured. I couldn’t stay here. The cabin felt too small, too cut off, like I’d been stranded in the middle of nowhere with nothing but my thoughts.Andmy thoughts were the last thing I wanted company with.
Grabbing my phone, I dialed the only person I still trusted.
Brock answered on the third ring. “Kay?”
“Hey.” My voice came out hoarse, but I tried to steady it.
“What happened? Are you okay?” Brock rattled off. I could picture his pinched, dark brows. “I’ve been trying to reach you since last night.”
My fingers dug into the side of my head as my elbow braced against the table. “No.”
“Are you hurt?”
My lip trembled. I shook my head even though he couldn’t see me. “No.”
“Did Kreed do something?” he demanded, nothing friendly in his tone.
I let out a hollow laugh. “Depends on your definition of something.”
“I’ll kill him.”
“I don’t want him dead. There’s been enough death.”
A pause. Then, softer, he asked, “What do you need?”
“Can you come get me?”
“Where are you? At the house?” he replied without any hesitation.
He meant Kreed’s house, an obvious assumption since he didn’t know what happened last night. “A cabin. I don’t—” I exhaled. “I don’t know where I am,” I admitted, hating how weak I sounded. “Somewhere in the woods.”
“Stay put. I’ll get Fynn to track this number. Keep your phone on.” The shit my cousin and his friends could do still baffled me. I could barely make toast and coffee. At my age, they hadreputations that stretched beyond high school. “I’m on my way,” he assured, and through the phone, I could hear him moving, already in motion.
