died weeks after you met. They killed him.”
I whimper and feel his arms wrap around me like a safety net. He protects me in his embrace somehow, cocooning me in love and care. It’s much like how Cass felt, strong, sure, and real.
“It’s okay, Colt.”
I shake in his hold. “It’s not,” I cry, feeling my body tremble with memories.
My brother.
My friend.
My protector.
I see his eyes, his hair, the way he smiled, how much he loved me, his care for rugby, his wants for the future, his desire to move away.
“Why did they take him away?”
It’s rhetorical. I don’t expect Parris to answer, but he does.
“They killed him because he was unraveling the entire fucking organization.”
“Organization?”
“The Vestige, Colt. Cassidy, from what I’ve been able to find out in the four months I’ve been here, he was trying to unravel the whole organization—the drug money, laundering, kills, stolen elections... all of it.”
I stare at this guy I’ve only just met, hoping he isn’t another goon of theirs.
No, you can’t fake the loss he has shown.
“Why are you working for them then?”
He doesn’t smile at my question. Instead, he stares at me with a nervous glint.
“At first, I wanted to see why Cass didn’t come to the convention in June. That was our next meet. Hell, I wanted to see why he’d ghosted me and got a new number, so I started asking questions.”
Shaking my head with tears still in my eyes, I want to sob. “He was killed in April. He never would’ve changed his number. He thought it was superstitious since his number—”
“Had his birthday in it,” Parris finishes for me. “I know.”
I do cry then, more, feeling the redness of my skin like the pinpricks they are. Cassidy being dead is the worst thing to ever happen to me, but it seems it’s the worst thing that Parris experienced too.
“He wanted so much in life,” I whimper. “He didn’t want to be a statistic, and they lied and said he killed himself.” It’s the first time I’ve ever openly talked about this other than with Yang, who until recently, didn’t believe me. Yeah, Mel knows the gist, but she didn’t know Cassidy, which means she didn’t know the reasons why nothing added up.
Parris squeezes me once more before standing. “I know this conversation isn’t over, Colton, but they’ll be here any moment. I’d definitely suggest you jumping into a shower.”
I laugh derisively over the disappointment that is my life and accept his truth. “Please stay safe.” It comes out so soft and sorrowful that I know he understands why I said that.
“No cameras or mics in here,” he whispers before retreating.
The information is good to know, but it also doesn’t help that I’m so stuck and scared.
Heading to the shower, I disrobe and make it meltingly hot. The black of my hair drips down the drain. Knowing the color continues to stain the tub’s basin keeps me sane. I stare at the tiled walls, wondering why I’m even here and haven’t tried running.
What could they do?
Kill you.
The voice in my head appears to be smart. My chest seems to slow as the steam rises, and I think of Bridger and how every time I see him in passing, he’s next to Elijah. Then Ten, I’ve seen him once, and as soon as he said a single thing to me, he was whisked away. My mind travels to Ross and the black circles under his eyes. He’s seen me, too, but there weren’t words shared, let alone more than a glance in either direction.
Lux, god, seeing him, dancing with him, touching him... the contact made me jelly. Human connection isn’t something I enjoy, but somehow, I think it’s my love language. Parris hugging me reminded me of all the times I felt weak, and Cass once again made me strong.
After scrubbing myself and hair, I towel off and see the whole team of stylists waiting for me. They don’t tsk at me as I’d seen in movies or even experienced by my mother’s runway cronies, but I do see them shift uncomfortably at all the tattoos across my skin.
Imagine if I’d been normal Colt. Think they could handle all of that?
Walking toward the closet, I dress in a matching lingerie set, knowing I’d need it. One of the dressers introduces themselves before grabbing a corset and binding it onto my body. They speak quietly to one another but never to me. It’s odd being left alone as some pariah.
This is not