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“How did you know that?” Rhett’s brows pinch together. “No one knows that.”
“I know the devastation that Denver left behind. Unfortunately, I learned about it too late.” Monty hardens his voice. “Why is my son here? His body doesn’t belong among these…things.”
“Oh, Wolfson isn’t dead.”
My head snaps toward Wolf, my heart exploding in my chest. He doesn’t move. His torso doesn’t lift with breath. Or does it? The bulky coat hides those subtle signs of life.
I start to reach for him.
“Don’t touch him.” Rhett stands, bringing my focus back to the gun trained on Frankie. “He’s sedated. Unconscious.”
As Rhett leans over her, her glare follows him, narrowing in determination. My throat tightens as she directs those green eyes at Wolf, then at me.
She blinks twice.
Blink once for yes, twice for no.
Why is she saying no? Wolf isn’t unconscious?
“I wanted to surprise you,” Rhett says. “He’s been alive all these months.”
He let us believe he was dead because he’s a psychopath who thrives on breaking people, not just physically but emotionally and mentally. It satisfies his deep-rooted need for dominance and control.
I know because I was raised by a monster just like him.
This isn’t just about killing us. He wants to flaunt his sense of superiority.
Denver abused him as a child, twisted him into this monster. Denver abused us in the same way, but we weren’t alone. Leo, Wolf, and I had one another. We kept each other sane.
Somewhat.
I don’t feel sane at the moment.
Rhett studies us as if probing for vulnerabilities. He’s so focused on our faces, he doesn’t notice Frankie’s lips moving.
Ensnaring my gaze, she mouths, Red flag, and flicks her eyes to Wolf.
Red flag?
I glance at Leo. He saw it, too.
Didn’t Rhett say she couldn’t move her lips?
She must be fighting the drug. Unless…
I peek down at her hand on Wolf’s lap. Their arms are hidden beneath their sleeves. But if Wolf is conscious, he could’ve discreetly removed her IV.
Leo and I exchange a knowing look as I recall a long-ago conversation with Wolf.
My red flag is I can tell you my red flag with a blank face.
He never clarified what he meant, but I assumed it was his way of saying he’s self-aware and recognizes his problematic behaviors—red flags—without showing emotion—a blank face—which could itself be a red flag in relationships.
Is Frankie trying to tell us he’s awake and faking it?
Only one way to find out.
As Rhett returns to his seat, I place my foot directly over Wolf’s. He’s also barefooted, and the cold toes beneath mine lift, responding to my touch.
