Page 42 of Worse Than Wicked
Colt looks at me. “What’d she do to you?”
“She put that video on her blog,” Baron says.
“Because you told her to,” Colt grits out.
“It was her choice,” Baron says with a shrug. “She did it because she wanted you to stop protecting Mabel.”
Colt grits his teeth and doesn’t say anything. I know he hates that he was manipulated for so long as much as I hate that I was.
“We’ll go,” I say, turning to my father. “But not before I get what I came for. I want to know what happened to Dahlia.”
His brows rise in an expression of surprise. “Dahlia Delacroix?”
He glances at Aurora, but she remains motionless in her chair, face devoid of expression. I know there’s something, though. He looked to her because they hid something together. Anger lashes inside me, but I keep myself as placid as his wife.
“Yes, Dad,” I say. “Where is she?”
“I don’t know,” he says. “No one knows.”
“I wrote her letters,” I say. “I remember seeing Aurora hiding something. An envelope. Did you intercept my mail?”
“No,” he says, his shoulders slumping. “We contacted the school when you asked about her, and we got a concerning letter back. We thought it would be best, considering your state at the time, if you didn’t get the news that she was gone.”
“You made me think I was crazy,” I say, my voice carefully even. “That I made it all up. That she wasn’t real.”
He frowns. “That was never our intention.”
“But you did,” I say. “You didn’t want me to contact her. You didn’t want to give me the name of her school. And when I wrote her, I got a letter back from her school saying she was never there. Did you lie to me?”
Dad rakes his hand through his thinning hair. “We were trying to protect you, Mabel. That’s all we ever wanted. We may not have always done the best job of it, but we did try.”
“By lying to me?” I ask, rising to my feet. “That’s never protected anyone, except maybe yourselves.” I turn to mystepmother. “I came for answers, and maybe revenge, but I see you took care of it yourself. You got what you deserve.”
“Mabel,” Dad barks.
Of course Aurora doesn’t answer. She doesn’t even look at me. If there’s something going on in her head, I can’t reach it.
I turn to my father. “And so did you.”
“You need to leave,” he says again, standing as well.
“We were already on our way out,” Baron says, standing and taking my hand. He leads me toward the front door. I hear footsteps behind us, and I turn to see Colt escorting us out.
When our eyes meet, he shakes his head, his expression filled with disappointment.
But Aurora’s not my mother. She’s his.
“That was unnecessary,” he says when we reach the door.
To my surprise, Baron stops and turns back after stepping outside. “Now that we’re alone, I need to ask you something.”
Colt just stares out at us, his eyes guarded. “I don’t owe you shit.”
“What do you have on Duke?” Baron asks. “He gets cagey and belligerent whenever your name comes up.”
“Why don’t you ask him?”
“Please?” I implore, knowing Baron won’t beg. He won’t escalate things to violence like Duke would to get answers either. Baron has more self-control, and he doesn’t get angry. He fought with the kind of detached precision he’ll use as a surgeon, that will make him the best, not out of emotion. But I know how much this means to him. He wouldn’t ask my brother at all unless he was desperate.
