“I told her in the car; she cried,” Maxx offers, and I throw him a look that he returns with one of his own. Right. That works. I’m having trouble feigning excitement seeing as I know Justin is manipulating us all behind the scenes.
He seems to love *NSYNC. We actually watched the music video for Bye Bye Bye in the limo before he started singing You Gotta Be, so I’ve got that image of the band hanging from puppet strings in my mind.
That’s what we are right now: his puppets.
“We’re getting close,” Tess says, straightening out her jacket and lifting her chin. “I found one of my children before; I can do it again.”
“I know you can,” I reply, as nicely as I’m able.
She studies me for another moment, her dark eyes rife with concern. She doesn’t like the idea of us going to this party anymore than we do—only, she can’t know that.
“I’ve got a date set for the custody hearing; you’ll get to tell the judge whatever you want. We scheduled it for after final exams are over. I just wanted you to be aware of that; I will fight with everything I have to keep you away from that man.”
I have a feeling that whatever I say now will be used against me by Justin, so I keep my mouth shut and offer up a simple nod. That same, sad disappointment floods Tess’ face as she reluctantly starts to retreat from the room, her hand lingering on the doorjamb.
“I’ll … grab your beauty team,” she tells me, and I can’t help but cringe at the implied judgement in her words.
As soon as she leaves, I spin toward Maxx, putting my hands on his chest to ground myself. It feels good to touch him like this.
“I look like a total dick to everyone I know,” I murmur as Maxx covers my hands and presses them against his chest.
“Not to me, not to Chasm, and certainly not to Parrish,” he promises. “And don’t worry too hard about it: the truth always comes out in the end.”
I look up at his handsome face and count my blessings.
Without Maxx and Chasm, things would be so much harder.
Good thing I know how to choose my pawns, eh, Justin?
I don’t recognize myself when I look in the mirror.
My green and black hair is twisted in an elaborate chignon at the base of my neck, the pink diamond tiara glittering on the crown of my head. The earrings catch the light, keeping the eye drawn up toward my face. There’s no necklace with the outfit which seems to be intentional; the bare expense of my pale chest above the bodice of my dress provides a nice contrast with the pink of the gown and the slightly brighter shoes.
The gloves and the wrap lend an elegance to the outfit, helping to offset some of the youthfulness of the cut and color. My makeup is subtle enough that I might not be wearing any—wink, wink. That is, I’m wearing a shit ton of makeup to look like a walking-talking Snapchat filter.
I purse my lips tight, blinking the long, curved lengths of my eyelash extensions.
Yes, eyelash extensions. Justin’s makeup artist did them for me before she did my face up.
My nails look very much like Raúl’s—a French manicure with blunt tips. I reach one hand up and rest my fingers against my cheek, studying my dark eyes in the mirror. I’m the perfect blend of Tess and Justin, a twisted fragment of their DNA.
DNA.
Fuck DNA.
It’s DNA’s fault that I’m even in this situation, that Parrish is in this situation.
“Ready?” Maxx asks as I spin around in a swirl of skirts. He hasn’t seen me since the crew of beauty experts descended on the scene. His green eyes go wide, his face flushing, lips parting slightly as he takes me in. “Holy shit.”
“Holy shit is right,” I choke out as I stare at him, dressed in a white dinner jacket with a black bowtie and black slacks. He looks like James Bond in Goldfinger, the suit tailored perfectly to his muscular form. His hair is gently tousled, his black dress shoes shiny, and the smile that stretches across his face … well, the whole scene gives me heart palpitations.
“You look—” we both start.
“Handsome,” I blurt.
“Perfect,” he breathes.
“Late,” a voice says from behind Maxx, drawing my attention over to Raúl. He’s checking his phone and adjusting pink giraffe print glasses. Before I let myself forget, I snatch the skeleton key off the bathroom counter and slip it into Maxx’s pocket—just in case. If anything were going to happen with Parrish, it would be tonight. “We need to get moving. We were supposed to leave seven minutes ago.”
I frown at him, but Maxx doesn’t allow me to sink into a mood, reaching out to take my hand and pulling me toward him. He presses a kiss to my knuckles that has me flushing all over.
“Do not mess her makeup up,” Raúl warns when it looks like X might actually try to kiss me. X’s face flashes with undisguised annoyance, but he says nothing, taking my arm in his and leading me out of my room and down the stairs.
If this were, like, prom or something, I’d be all aflutter.
As things stand, the best I can do is appreciate how pretty Maxx is. That’s what grounds me.
Tess is waiting at the bottom of the stairs with Paul, and both of their eyes go wide when they see us.
“We’re late apparently,” I tell her as we pause in the foyer and Raúl flashes me another annoyed look. He has a far less pleasant disposition than Justin’s other minion—Mr. Volli, that is. He’s probably just as evil; I don’t doubt that for a second, even if I do enjoy his glasses changes.
“I see,” Tess remarks, exchanging a look with Paul. “Well, I hope the two of you have a wonderful time tonight.” Her nostrils flare with all the unspoken things she wants to say but manages to keep to herself.
“I’m sure we will,” X assures her when I find myself tongue-tied all over again. He very quickly escorts me away from the uncomfortable situation and into the back of the limo. I half-expected Justin to be waiting inside for us, but he isn’t there.
“Your father will see you at the party,” Raúl assures me, slamming the limo door before climbing in beside the driver. Maxx and I exchange another look, but it very clearly isn’t a safe place to talk, so we keep our comments to ourselves.
Mostly, we check each other out unashamedly.
I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen such a handsome man in all my life. I mean, he was beautiful before, but he looks so elegant tonight—and so much older.
“We both look twenty-five,” I murmur, and he chuckles.
“Pretty much. But in a good way.”
Maxx sits back against the seat, crossing one leg over the other and resting his ankle against his knee as he folds his hands together over his belly.
I just stare at him.
“You’re sitting like that on purpose,” I tell him, and he grins.
“I might be. Do you like it?”
I refuse to answer that with words, but I’m sure my smile says it all for me. I glance out the window as we pull out of the driveway and make a left turn. Chasm’s house is all of three seconds away from the Vanguard’s—Medina is five square miles of land mass with a population of just over three thousand. In essence, it’s the ultra-wealthy bubble that floats beside Seattle.
We could’ve walked there, if you set aside the mass of reporters and the fancy clothes.
My heart is in my throat as the limo joins a queue of others, waiting for a chance to glide through the open gate outside the sprawling McKenna manor. Our driver pauses beside the front steps and Raúl opens the door for us.
Maxx takes my hand as we climb out and ascend the front steps. There’s a doorman checking names off a list, but he waves us straight through without so much as a glance.
Fortunately, Chasm is waiting just inside the doors for us.
My heart stops when I see him.
He’s in a tux, just like Maxx, but his is black-on-black-on-black. Even the tie—which is a bit crooked—is black. The very first thing that I do is pause in front of him to fix it. His hands come up quick, snatching m
y wrists in a firm grip as his golden eyes blaze.
“I’ve never seen a prettier girl in all my life,” he growls out at me, and I shiver in response. His attention flicks back to Maxx before returning to my face. “No joke, naekkeo,” he says, and then he kisses me with so much passion and want that my knees almost buckle. I miss the brush of his lip piercings, but he’s in ‘Seamus-approved’ Kwang-seon mode tonight. He pulls away with just the slightest kiss of my lip gloss on his pretty mouth.
People are staring at us as a live orchestra performs in one corner, and several massive screens flash with images and quotes about Milk Carton. Chasm pulls back, turning to follow my stare.
Much of the furniture has been cleared out, lending the massive, open space the look of a ballroom. People lounge on chaises carefully arranged in corners or against walls while waiters glide through the crowd with trays of food and glasses of champagne.
Chasm snatches a pair off the next tray, offering the glasses up to me and Maxx.
“Trust me: you’re going to need this,” he warns us, moving to stand beside me as Justin spots us through the crowd. He lifts his own glass in greeting, a casual smile on his lips. To anyone else, I’m sure the gesture seems friendly and inviting. To me, it might as well be an ironclad command that drags my feet across the floor.
My body feels like it’s made of lead as I move toward him, the two boys posted on either side of me like sentries.
“Justin,” I say politely as I approach him, and his smile widens, blue eyes crinkling at the edges.
“Call me … daddy,” he offers up, and it takes every ounce of strength that I possess to keep my face from falling. I can’t even bear to call Tess, mom. And now this fucker right here wants me to call him … gag … daddy?
“Would dad work?” I offer up with a grin, and I swear to god, his eye twitches.
“Daddy would be preferable,” he purrs, sipping his drink and then pausing as a redheaded man comes up to stand beside him. Ah, right. This is Seamus McKenna, Chasm’s asshole of a dad. He stares at me with amber eyes that are just a shade lighter than his son’s, and then he smiles.
“You look ravishing tonight, Dakota,” Seamus says, the faintest hint of an Irish accent in his words. “You must be so proud, Justin.”
My bio dad beams at me, sipping his drink as he studies me over the rim of his glass, and I fight the urge to kick off these painful heels and start running, skirts in hand. I would run barefoot all night to escape this man, if only Parrish was with me and Maxx and Chasm.
We could run together and never look back.
Instead, I practice another of my signature forced smiles on the pair of them.
“Thank you,” I tell Seamus, proud of myself for keeping my voice so strong. How much does Seamus know about Justin’s exploits? Just the Milk Carton stuff? Or all of it? I can’t tell. “And congratulations, by the way, on the merger between Milk Carton and Fort Humboldt Security.”
Justin laughs, his voice a merry accompaniment to the quiet, refined revelry taking place around us.
“It seems that news has already gotten around,” he tells me with a sharp grin. But he, of course, knew that since he had to have at least heard audio from the confrontation between us and Veronica outside the hedge maze. I had both of my phones in my blazer at the time. “Secrets are usually very well-kept in this town. I’m surprised.”
He doesn’t sound surprised, just bemused.
Seamus’ eyes flick to his son and then back to me again. I’m not looking at Chasm, but I can feel him tense up beside me. I don’t blame him, considering all the stories I’ve heard, the bruises on Chasm’s arms, and the way Maxx reacted when he told me I needed to pretend to be his girlfriend so that Seamus didn’t get the wrong idea about me and Chas.
Justin finishes his champagne and sets it on a waiter’s passing tray, trading it out for a fresh flute. He reaches out with his glass, as if he’s asking me for a toast.
I click my own glass against his, even though I’d rather not. I’d rather not participate in anything with Justin Prior, but that’s not an option right now.
“No matter seeing as we’re making the official announcement tonight,” Justin muses, studying me yet again. His lips curve up in another smile. “Did you hear the news about your brother? Milk Carton has already come through for poor, sweet Tess.”
“I’m sure you’re relieved,” Seamus remarks, lifting his own champagne flute to his lips. “All three of you. Soon enough, we’ll be rescuing that boy; I can feel it in my bones.”
Justin maintains that pleasant expression of his, even as I stand there and seethe.
What a piece of work this man is. He kidnaps Parrish and then, what, orchestrates it so that his app finds him? Is that what all of this is? A publicity stunt?
“If you’ll excuse me,” Seamus remarks, apparently spying someone in the crowd that he’d like to speak with. He peels away from our little group, and I take a small step forward, careful to keep my voice low enough that nobody but Maxx or Chasm can hear.
“If you were going to use your app to ‘find’ Parrish, then why ask me to do it at all?” I whisper, but Justin’s expression never falters. Instead, he reaches out and cups the side of my face in a way that might be viewed as fatherly by anyone watching. But his grip is too tight, and his nails are digging into my skin in such a way that I actually have to fight back a grimace.
“The app is not going to find Parrish; you are. That is, if you want him back. If you don’t, I’ll just slit his throat and dump his body in Lake Washington. His only worth to me is his worth to you and Tess. That’s it. I neither like nor dislike the boy. He simply is.” Justin drops his hand by his side as I do my best to ignore the throbbing in the side of my face. “Go mingle with all of my pretty friends. Make yourself seen. I want everyone to know what a beautiful daughter I have. Don’t stay away too long though. I have someone I’d like you to meet.”
Justin pats me on the cheek once more before taking off.
Maxx steps up beside me, tilting my face to his and gritting his teeth in frustration.
“He’s left red marks all over your cheek,” he grinds out, stroking a finger over the indentations as Chas scowls, his eyes scanning the crowd.
“Do you see these people? Fawning over a man they ran out of town? Whether he was guilty or not, it makes them all fucking despicable to me. Either he wasn’t guilty, and here they are schmoozing a guy they framed or else he was guilty and, well, here they are schmoozing a man they know is a total douche. It’s sick.”
“Whitehall Prep is the perfect name for our academy,” I mutter, downing the champagne. “Prepping all those brats to join their parents’ schemes.”
I catch sight of a beautiful, honey-haired girl across the room, and my breath catches.
Lumen.
I did not expect to see Lumen Hearst at my father’s launch party.
“Oh hell no,” Chasm says as soon as he notices where I’m looking. Maxx turns his head to follow our gazes and cocks a brow. “Don’t even get started with that bitch today.”
“This is the perfect place to try to talk to her,” I reason, gesturing around with the hand that isn’t holding the champagne. God, if Tess knew I was drinking here, she would lose her shit. Clearly, Justin doesn’t care either way. “We’re not at Whitehall, and she can’t exactly beat me up in the middle of a crowd, now can she?”
“Maxx, can you talk some sense into our girl?” Chasm asks, frowning down at me in annoyance. “She keeps trying to make friends with her enemies. Lumen had her posse kick your ass; she isn’t redeemable.”
“And you had your posse kick her ass,” I clarify. “Let’s just see if we can’t get her alone. Something is going on with her. Think about it: she went missing for a whole night and woke up in a field. Does that not sound familiar? Like how I woke up in the middle of the woods? Justin could be blackmailing her, too.”
“Blackmailing her with what? Parrish?” Chasm lets out a barking laug
h. “Not a chance in hell.”
“Everyone says she’s been chasing after him for years,” I add, trying to fight back a ridiculous spurt of jealousy. Thanks mammal brain, but I don’t need you just now. Let’s save Parrish’s life before we start getting upset about rival love interests. Also, didn’t you sleep with both of Parrish’s besties while he was in captivity? Yeah, not helping. “Maybe he—”
“Lumen doesn’t care about Parrish—certainly not enough to do even half the things you have trying to save him.” Chasm folds his arms over his chest. “You’ll never convince me otherwise.”
“Danyella told me they’ve been playing a ‘will they, won’t they game’ for years,” I continue, and Maxx laughs.
“Danyella, who’s been giving you the cold shoulder for weeks? That, and following Lumen around like a lost puppy? Lumen did her wrong, too, you know. Yet, there she is. Maybe you’re both too nice.” Maxx glances toward Lumen as she laughs and flirts with a half-dozen other Whitehall Prep students who are here at the party with their parents. “As soon as they hit Whitehall as freshmen, Lumen kicked her old bestie to the curb for newer and better friends.” Maxx shrugs and shakes his head. “I don’t trust either of them, to be honest.”
But maybe I am too nice? Because I really, really want to talk to Lumen. This is my chance, and it might be the only good one I get for a long while.
“I mean, I did burn the theater down and ruin the production,” I start, and Chas sighs.
“You’re very clearly going to do it anyway,” Chasm says, gesturing loosely with one hand. “So let’s get this over with.”
“Thank you,” I tell them both earnestly, and I swear, they both soften right away. I stifle a smile as I weave through the crowd. Before I even get to her, Lumen turns around, dressed in a form-fitting gold gown that sparkles when she moves.
Her earth-colored eyes bore right into me, and her face takes on a cold, dangerous cast.
She moves away from me so quickly that she disappears into the crowd, and I curse under my breath.
“Clearly, she doesn’t want anything to do with me,” I mutter, temporarily defeated but refusing to give up. If Lumen is here, then her parents are clearly trying to impress Justin. She can’t run from me forever. Even though the school year is almost over, she has another year at Whitehall with me, Chas, and … Parrish … before they graduate.
Payback Princess (Lost Daughter of a Serial Killer Book 2) Page 46