to keep the shirt closed, then I go off in search of Baz. I pause just near the threshold when I hear his deep voice. He’s speaking in a low tone.
I freeze in place, feeling the sudden need to be silent, instead of making my presence known. As quietly as I can manage, I open the door, blowing out a sigh of relief that it doesn’t creak or make any noise. Poking my head out, I glance around the darkened hall, trying to pinpoint where his voice is coming from. Careful to stay quiet, I follow the sound of his voice.
I realize it’s coming from the living room. I pause just before the threshold, so he doesn’t see me. Resting my back against the wall, I work to control my breathing and listen.
“You think I don’t know that?” Baz hisses to whomever he is talking to on the phone. “If he turns up, you tell me, and I swear to God, Trent, pull this shit again, and I’ll kill you, got me? Zach is back in LA. He’s the next one I’m paying a visit. I suggest you get it together, or I’ll be paying you a visit, and I promise, it won’t be pretty.”
My chest heaves as I step away from the wall, trying to process what I just heard. He said he didn’t know where Zach was, but he just said he’s home. And if Zach is home, that has to mean Vincent isn’t far behind. My stomach clenches and worry slithers through my veins.
I want to believe Baz and his claims that he’s on my side, that he doesn’t trust the Savages, but if he doesn’t trust them, how can he still talk to them so easily, as though nothing is amiss?
Corruption.
That’s the only logical explanation. Real corruption is a thin, subtle blade you don’t feel until it’s lodged deep into your back. Until you feel the blood pour from your flesh and the pain seep from your pores.
I hurry back into the room, careful to leave the door cracked, so I can hear him coming. I climb back on the bed, resting my back against the headboard. Hugging my knees to my chest, I rest my cheek across them and close my eyes, trying to remain rational.
This doesn’t mean anything, I try to convince myself. It’s a snippet of a conversation I know nothing about. I cannot jump to conclusions until I speak to Baz about what I heard.
“You knew you couldn’t trust him. What are you going to do now?”
I clamp my hands over my ears, trying to get the voice to go away. She’s not here. She can’t be.
“You need to protect yourself, Kenzie. You can’t trust him.”
“Go away,” I hiss, slamming my eyes shut. When I open them, my chin trembles when I see her standing at the foot of the bed. I shake my head. “No. No, we’re not doing this.”
“You know what you have to do.”
And I do. I can’t let my feelings for Baz overshadow everything else. My safety comes first, and it is clear the Savages won’t stop until I’m dead.
I’ve been on edge since the night I heard Baz talking on the phone with Trent. He’s been acting shady, too, which only makes me more suspicious. That thin blade of corruption? We are both walking it.
What is he up to? Why does he always feel the need to take his calls in private?
He’s hiding something from me. I can feel it.
Since Baz is gone again, I decide to use this time to look through the articles. When I asked Dan where he went, he said he needed to handle something out of town. That, of course, only made me more suspicious. So far, each article is about Baz and me, the complexity of our relationship, the controversy surrounding me, his friends, and our past. Was I telling the truth or lying? That was the main question everyone wanted to know.
One article in particular snags my attention, so I click on it. It’s a quick video of the paparazzi filming Zach leaving Kings late last night. The man shouts out a question to him.
“Zach! Zach, how do you feel about your best friend’s choice in women?” It’s then I see Baz in the back of the frame, Trent at his side, and I swear, my heart stops when I see who’s standing next to him. It looks a whole lot like Vincent. But it can’t be. Baz wouldn’t do