Page 62

Story: Lethal Deceit

This is where they show their true colors. Where a choice has to be made. Between the girl who is loved and the girl who isn’t.

Confirming it, Adena and Mick confer between themselves as if I’m not even here. And I don’t even hear what they’re saying. I’m already leaping ahead, planning, trying to figure out how exactly I can slip away unnoticed.

Only Luke stays silent, but his eyes aren’t on me. He’s tapping out a message and is showing as much tension as the other two.

While Mick is pacing the room, Adena is trying to calm him down. “Nothing is going to happen to her. We’ll find her.”

He shakes his head violently and answers almost as if he didn’t hear her. “This is my doing. I asked her to help. Caleb warned me that involving her was a risk.”

“You couldn’t have known,” she says.

“I was selfish. I wasn’t thinking about Brooke.”

His eyes drift to me as if acknowledging I’m the one who's really to blame. I hold my tongue, not wanting to draw attention to myself, and drop my gaze to carry on memorizing the route to the closest mall. I just need a diversion.

Luke’s voice penetrates my bubble. “This doesn’t smell right.”

I lift my head and peer up at him. Adena stops mid-sentence. “You think it’s a setup?”

He bypasses her and looks directly at me. “I want to get your take on this.”

I swallow. “Why?”

Mick’s disbelief echoes mine. “What for?”

Luke runs his tongue across his teeth before he hands Mick his phone back. “I want to hear her thoughts.”

Adena crosses her arms across her chest and squints at me. “Go on then. Let’s hear it.”

A dozen thoughts enter my mind at once, causing me to pause as I sift through them all. “I think…”

Mick seems to lean closer, every muscle in his body tight, like he’s bracing for a hit he knows is coming.

I flick a glance at Luke—cool, unreadable Luke—and hate him for putting me on the spot. Does he actually expect me to hand him the truth? Here? In front of Mick?

My throat tightens.

“I think that…” I hesitate, the words sticking like thorns. “They really want Mick. If he doesn’t go, they’ll kill her.”

Mick groans, low and guttural, sinking back like I just drove the breath out of him.

But Luke?

Luke doesn’t move—except for the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth. “Are you sure about that?”

His voice is mild. Too mild.

I swallow hard, heart pounding like it’s trying to get ahead of the lie—or the truth, I’m still not sure which one I’ve just told. My palms are slick. My mouth dry.

I want to look away, but I can’t. Luke’s face is blank, almost bored. But there—right there, between his brows—a flicker of something. A crease. A frown.

Disappointment.

It hits harder than I expect.

He doesn’t believe me. Or worse—he does, and he’s disappointed I didn’t say more. Or say it sooner.

Either way, I feel the weight of it, sharp and cold, pressing on my chest.