Collateral(31)

“Where’s Zeth, Lacey?” She gives me a guilty, torn look. My stomach begins to fizz, like I’m about to throw up. “Lacey, where is your brother?”

“Charlie took him down into the basement.”

“The basement? What the hell’s in the basement? Where are we?” The room is a dark, square box—no windows, no furniture. Nothing. It’s entirely empty aside from the three of us. There’s only one exit, and that’s a steel door with a keypad wired into the wall next to it.

“Used to be an old movie theater,” Lacey says, sniffing. “Charlie said he brought my mom here on a date one time. Back when it was still open.”

I sit on the cold, hard ground, bridging my knees up and hugging them to my chest. “Lace…god, Lace, Charlie didn’t bring your mom here, I promise you.”

She bites her lip, staring me down. “I know,” she says in a small voice. “I know he didn’t. But he said he did.”

“You know the Duchess wasn’t your mom?”

She nods. “I never believed him.”

“Then—” I can barely speak. A wave of anger builds in my chest, making my throat constrict. “Then why did you speak to him on the phone? Why the hell did you go with him?”

“Because…” She covers her face with her hands. “It sounds stupid now.”

“Lacey, tell me!” I’m on the verge of screaming.

“Because I already knew he was my dad. And…and I wanted him to think I believed him when he called me. That’s why I said…that’s why I said all that awful stuff. I’m sorry, Sloane, really, I didn’t mean any of it.”

“What?” This is absolute madness. She knew? First Zeth knew all along that Lacey was his sister, and now she’s telling me she knew Charlie was her father? What is wrong with these people? Why the hell do they keep their cards so close to their chests? I want to grab hold of Lacey and shake her. Shake some fucking sense into her. “Why?”

The blonde girl shrugs, pulling at a loose thread on the torn sweater she’s wearing. “Because he keeps fucking everything up for Zeth. He tried to hurt you. I wanted to…I wanted to kill him. I tried to. That’s why I’m in here with you instead of out there with them.”

“You tried to kill Charlie?”

“With a screwdriver.”

None of this is making any sense. I press my forehead against my knees, trying to breathe through the panic that’s gripping hold of me. “He could have killed you, Lace. What were you thinking?”

She doesn’t say anything. When I look up, about to scold her some more, I see there are tears streaking down her face.

“I was thinking I wanted you two to be safe. I was thinking about the normal life you guys deserve to share. You can’t have that with Charlie still around, and you…you’ll never be able to forget it if Zeth kills him. It’ll play on you.”

I want to deny that, but the words stick in my throat. Honestly, I’ve done everything in my power not to think about it. I’ve known for a while that killing Charlie is the only way Zeth sees us having a life together, just like Lacey is saying, but I’ve put it from my mind. Tried to make myself believe I’m okay with it because Charlie is a bad person. Because Charlie will kill us given half the chance. But I’m not okay with it. I haven’t been for a while.

Lacey starts crying.

I shuffle toward her on my butt and wrap an arm around her shoulder. “Zeth would never want you to take on something like that for him. And neither would I. You damn near broke his heart when you walked out with that man.”

She turns into me and starts sobbing, her voice muffled in my shoulder. “I know. But…he’s done so much for me. Everything. And so have you. And I already killed Greg Mallory. I figured it wouldn’t be so bad. I could do it again if I had to.”

“Oh, shit, Lace.” I hug her to me tight, running my hands up and down her back. This poor girl. I have to admit, I’ve been angry ever since she walked out of Zeth’s apartment with Charlie. She chose to leave us. She chose him over her brother and me. That hurt more than words can ever describe, but this hurts more. She did it all, put herself in this awful position, for us. I can’t cope with that.

My own tears chase fast and hot down my cheeks. Lacey wraps her arms around my waist, crying even harder. For a brief and fragile moment, we are hopeless and inconsolable. And then I put a stop to it.

“C’mon. Sit up. We need to figure out what we’re gonna do.” I wipe my face with the back of my hand, and then I wipe away Lacey’s tears, too. She blinks up at me, her tiny frame trembling against mine.