Page 84 of Unmask
His nostrils flared as he drew in a breath, the desire to make Carson pay for his words battling against whatever part of him still heard my voice. After what felt like an eternity but was probably only seconds, he slowly released Carson and stepped back, keeping himself positioned between us.
Carson turned around, immediately rubbing his wrist where Kreed had twisted it, his face flushed red with fury and humiliation. “You brought a damn attack dog into my house.”
“No,” I said coldly. “I brought someone who isn’t afraid to get shit done. If you’d stop letting your emotions cloud your judgment for five seconds, maybe we’d actually get somewhere.”
Carson stared at me, his mouth opening then closing as betrayal bloomed across his features, but underneath it all, buried beneath the anger and the wounded pride, there was hurt. So much hurt that it made my chest ache.
“I’m scared too, Carson. But fighting each other doesn’t bring Kenny home.”
Carson backed away from me, dragging both hands through his already disheveled hair as if trying to physically ground himself. I thought he might kick us out. Instead, he collapsed onto the arm of the couch. “I didn’t sleep last night,” he muttered. “I just kept waiting…for a message, a call, anything. I kept thinking maybe she’d just show up at the door, maybe it was all some massive misunderstanding, you know?” His laugh was hollow. “Like she’d just been at some guy’s place and forgot to check her phone.”
I nodded with understanding and stepped closer as Kreed stayed rooted just behind me.
Carson glanced up at me, and I saw the boy I’d grown up with, scared, lost, trying so hard to be strong. “But she didn’t. And she won’t. Not unless we do something.”
“We are doing something. We’re chasing every lead, talking to everyone who might know something. Rusty’s putting feelers out on the street. The Corvos are watching every corner of this city.”
The muscle in his jaw jumped beneath his skin. “I don’t like you depending onthem.”
“I don’t have to like it either.” I met his gaze steadily. “But I’ll use every tool I’ve got if it means getting her back. I’ll make deals with devils if that’s what it takes.”
Carson looked past me to Kreed. “I don’t trust you.”
“I don’t need you to,” Kreed replied coolly. His hands remained loose at his sides, but there was steel underneath the casual posture. “I just need you not to get in our way.”
Carson’s weight shifted forward like he was preparing to launch himself off the couch, but he surprised me. Instead of exploding, he shook his head. “This is messed up.”
“Tell me about it,” I murmured.
I sat for a beat, watching Carson’s face as he stared at his hands, at the red marks on his wrists, at anything but us. “Have her parents heard anything? Any new leads? Did the police find anything on her phone?” I asked.
Carson shook his head slowly. “Nothing. They’re treating it like a possible runaway. Again. Just like the other girls.”
“They’re wasting time.” I sighed. “We need to push harder. Find someone who knows something. And if the cops aren’t going to move, then we will.”
Carson finally looked, really looked at me, and I saw a glint of the old Carson, the one who’d always believed I could do anything. “You’re not giving up, are you?”
“No,” I whispered. “Never.”
“You get one shot,” he said, his gaze sliding past me to fix on Kreed. “One. If something happens to her because of you?—”
“She’s not your responsibility. She’s mine,” Kreed declared.
My breath caught, not surprise, exactly, but recognition. Like he’d just admitted out loud what had been hovering unspoken between us for weeks.
I didn’t correct him. Didn’t protest or deflect or make a joke to cut through the tension.
Not this time.
Because for the first time since this nightmare began, since Kenny had vanished and my world had tilted sideways, I didn’t feel alone. And maybe that was the scariest part of all, how easily I’d let him become the thing I leaned on when everything else was falling apart.
18
KREED
Kaylor climbed into the car and immediately turned toward the window, her shoulders hunching inward like the weight of the world had settled there and was slowly crushing her from the inside out. Her spine was rigid, and her hands were folded in her lap, holding herself together, as if she let go even for a second she might shatter into pieces too small to put back together.
I hated it. Hated seeing her like this, hated that I’d been part of what drove her to this breaking point.
