Page 61 of The Locked Ward
Kyle Dawson stands in the doorway looking like he owns the place. His hands are casually tucked into the pockets of his dark pants, and his crisp shirt is buttoned up to his strong-looking neck. They probably made him take off his tie before he came in, but he still has on his suit jacket.
“Georgia, it’s good to see you.”
You never liked being around Kyle under the best of circumstances. He always has an agenda, but you’ve never been sure if he possesses a heart.
The big male nurse who escorted him gestures for Kyle to sit. Kyle smiles and complies. It’s the same charming smile his father can switch on or off as easily as a light.
“I can take it from here, but I appreciate your help,” Kyle tells the male nurse.
Opal is in the doorway, gaping at Kyle. She’s got to be twenty years older than him, but she’s not the first woman to fall sway to his athletic, six-foot-two frame and piercing blue eyes.
The male nurse leaves, and Kyle runs his gaze over you, letting it linger on your tangled hair and sweatshirt with a juice stain dribbled down the front. A smirk tugs at the corners of his lips.
He leans forward, putting his elbows on his knees. You brace yourself. Kyle isn’t here on a mercy mission. He wants to twist the knife. He likes watching people suffer; you’ve seen him inflict plenty of pain on Colby as well as other boys on the lacrosse or football field.
“Let’s cut the bullshit, Georgia. I know you understand every word I say.”
You don’t give him anything, not even a flicker of an eye.
“I was there the night Colby called you from Stagioni’s to tell you my dad went to Annabelle’s.”
You rear back slightly. His triumphant expression tells you he clocked your involuntary movement.
“Colby’s an idiot. I could tell he was twisted about something when my dad left. So I told Bryce to take home my mom, and I stood two feet behind Colby while he called you. That moron never knew I was there.”
This is bad. Very bad. Because if Kyle knows that Colby knows—
You can’t even complete the thought before he speaks. Kyle is one step ahead of you. Guys like him always are.
“Blood is thicker than water. You think my brother’s going to sacrifice our father to help you ?”
You’re frozen, like a small animal trapped in a corner by a bird of prey.
“I saw Colby this morning. He isn’t going to talk.” Kyle gives a little chuckle, seemingly lost in a private memory.
“I guess you two have that in common,” he continues. “Here’s what you’re going to do. You need to plead guilty. My family doesn’t want this mess dragged out at trial. And neither do you, because you won’t win. My dad had a conversation with the district attorney.”
You knew Senator Dawson would be calling in favors. He’ll have plenty to dispense when he reaches the pinnacle of power.
“In two days, you’re going to be found competent to stand trial. If you plead guilty, you’ll get twenty years. If you don’t, you’re going to die. We’ll see to that.”
He leans closer. You can smell his minty breath and see the glow of his lightly tanned skin. How can someone so handsome and fresh be so rotten at his core?
“Everyone has dark secrets. Even my brother. It was pathetic how quickly Colby folded when I reminded him about that.”
Forty-eight hours, then it will all be over.
Opal is in the doorway, but Kyle is speaking too quietly for her to hear. Even if she did know what was going on, she wouldn’t help you. She’d rejoice.
“Twenty years, maybe some time off for good behavior, then you get out of jail and move somewhere else. Given the alternative, it’s a sweet deal. Don’t ever think you can win. You can’t even imagine the forces that are lined up against you.”
He stands up abruptly, looking down at you from his dominant position. You keep your eyes averted, desperately hoping he gets out soon. His presence is a crushing weight on your rib cage.
“Take care, Georgia,” he says loudly enough for Opal to hear.
You watch as he gives her a full-on smile. “I admire you for doing this job,” he says. “It can’t be easy.”
“Oh, it’s not so bad.” Opal’s cheeks are flushed, and her voice has risen an octave.
Kyle isn’t just protecting his father. He’s protecting his own ambition, too. Sons of presidents have followed in their fathers’ footsteps before. Kyle has never made any secret of the fact that he wants to be the co-architect of his family’s political dynasty.
Something occurs to you as you watch Kyle disappear down the hallway. His comment about Colby’s dark secret must be about the girl Colby fixated on in college. There was a rumor of stalking, and a restraining order. Nothing could be substantiated, though, because all the allegations disappeared.
But given this, and how obsessed Colby seemed with Annabelle, you need to reconsider his story of the night he got pulled over by the sheriff and his father swooped in and stole his date.
Maybe the senator wasn’t trying to seduce Annabelle, at least not at first. Maybe he was trying to protect her.