Page 16 of The Revenge
“Or what? Are you going to release my sex tape?” I cover my mouth with my hand. “Oops. You already did that.”
Like he’s about to blow up a hot air balloon, Syn sucks in a deep breath. “At the time that video was released, I was upstate visiting your brother in prison. I did not release the video, nor did I give any orders for that to happen,” he adds before I can suggest it.
“Then if you weren’t behind it, who was?” I ask instead. “I didn’t think anything happened on this campus unless the oh-so powerful Synclair Keyingham ordered it.”
“Salaway.”
“Declan wouldn’t have a clue where those videos are saved,” Royal quickly points out, his nose wrinkling as he looksat Syn. “He also isn’t even close to being at a level where he’d have access to the password.”
Syn nods. “He did it. Or we will find evidence that he did it on his laptop.”
“Are you telling me he did it following your orders, or are you admitting you’ve not got the control you say you have?”
I don’t think I care either way anymore.
“I’m saying someone wants you dead.”
No shit.
“Syn,” Royal says in a low, warning tone. “I hope you’re not about to tell Tori what I think you are? Because that knowledge will definitely get her killed.”
“She’s dead anyway,” Syn tells him, but his gaze is locked with mine. “What difference does it make now?”
VI
Tori
Since the day my brother was arrested, I’ve always felt something was wrong. From his confession to his lack of motive, and the fact I could never find any real evidence. The more I started to dig, the more I’ve become convinced there was so much more to this murder.
I came to James Keyingham University to find answers, but only found more questions. The lack of evidence has been further proof that something’s not right, but the longer this has gone on, the more I’ve had this lingering bad feeling that the only way things could be how they are is if someone is manipulating the situation.
At first, that seemed crazy. Because JPmighthave been a future president, but he wasn’t really anyone that important.
So who would go to that much trouble?
Worse is the idea that there is someone out there with the ability to do all this.
And then, one night, Syn told me that if he had to kill me, not only would he, but he’d do it without anyone knowing it was him.
Which also seems just as insane because Syn is nothing more than an obscenely rich college senior.
Even when Declan nearly succeeded in killing me—and he died believing he had—the idea that there is still more to all of this seems impossible. I’ve upset people being here, but I have no proof of anything, so why does anyone need to go to the trouble of killing me?
But, if I’m understanding what Syn is telling me, wanting me dead doesn’t stop at Declan, or even Syn.
More importantly, now Syn really doesn’t think my brother killed JP?
While I don’t feel like I’m going to pass out, all the anger that has been fueling me has evaporated from my body, and Syn’s suggestion to sit seems like a good one. So I move over to the armchair that Syn pointed to and sit down, clutching tightly to the mug in my hands.
“It also puts a target on our backs,” Gemini says with nonchalance as he indicates between himself and Royal. “You’ve got a future presidency protecting you.” He shrugs. “But the threat of imminent death is making me strangely horny. Look.”
As Gemini points at the bulge at his crotch, Syn just shakes his head.
“Who wants me dead? Beside you?” I ask Syn.
Syn fixes me a look of irritation before he moves to the armchair mirroring mine on the opposite side of the fireplace. Instead of sitting in it, he moves behind it and lightly grips the back. “That’s a question with a multi-layered answer, and the further up the levels we go, the less I can say.”
Leaning back in the chair, I cross my legs. “For someone who likes the sound of his own voice, you’re very good at not saying anything. Maybe you are suited for politics.”
