Page 81 of The Revenge
Despite the revelation, Syn’s father gives me a look of disdain. “His word against yours? You’re hardly credible.”
“I heard the confession too,” Syn tells him.
Pressing his lips together, Syn’s father drags his attention back to his son, but before he can speak, Gemini steps forward. As he does, he pulls his phone out of his pocket. “And I recorded it. Or, most of it.”
“You did?” I ask, surprised.
Gemini glances back at me and grins. “Of course. What did you think I was doing while these two were playing hero?” He turns back to Syn’s father. “The sound’s a bit sketchy at the beginning, but I watched it back in the car. The important parts are there.”
William draws in a deep breath as he turns his attention back to his son. “You know who his father is.”
“Does that matter? He killed JP—he killed your son and covered it up, and he’s walking around, free.” Syn doesn’t shout, but his voice is raised. He pauses, glancing back at me. “And Tori’s brother is serving a life sentence for a crime he didn’t commit. We need to make this right.”
“Let me see the video.” William holds his hand out to Gemini, who passes him the phone. He presses play, and I hear muffled noises for a few seconds. Then, Preston’s confession is played, clearly.
Hearing it a second time feels surreal.
I’ve managed to already commit his words to memory, but I’ve also questioned if the whole thing had been a dream, and I’ve imagined it all.
The clip is only a minute or two long. By the time it’s finished, William’s complexion has gone ashen. He moves over to his chair and sits down, placing the phone on the desk in front of him. He licks his lips and then looks up at us. “Where is Preston now?”
“Bound and gagged in the trunk of Royal’s car in the garage,” Gemini says, gleefully.
Syn’s father sits back in his chair, his gaze drifting to one of the walls. Sitting on a shelf is a framed picture. He and his wife are standing together in the center. Next to William’s side is JP, and book-shelfing his mother, is Syn. Syn looks like he was in high school when the photograph was taken.
Even though no one is smiling, it’s still a painful reminder.
“Father?” Syn prompts, gently.
William rubs his hand over his face, and like he’s wiped whatever emotion he’s feeling away, he pushes the phone away. “Send that video to me.”
Gemini grabs his phone. After a couple of taps on the screen, he slips the phone back into his pocket. “Done.”
"Royal, I need your car keys.”
Releasing my hand, Royal steps forward, sliding the key fob onto the desk to replace the phone.
“The four of you will need to stay here tonight. The maids should have already turned over the guest rooms. I will handle this.”
The others seem satisfied with that and start to make their way to the door, but I don’t move with them. I head towards William’s desk. “What about my brother?”
William looks me in the eyes. “I said, I will handle it.”
“But what does that mean?”
A hand rests on my shoulder. “Tori, my father will handle it,” Syn tells me.
I shake my head. He might be happy with the lack of details, but I’m not. “My brother is in prison. I know he’s not going to be released overnight, but I need to know if that’s being handled—” I use finger quotes. “Or if I need to do something.”
“It’s fine,” William says, giving his son a dismissive wave. “If we are to put James Patrick’s real killer behind bars, you should be able to deduce that they’ll have to release the wrongly convicted one. I can’t give you the details until I’ve spoken to my lawyers, because I don’t know how this process works myself. However, I assume they will want to speak to your mother rather than his sister. I suggest you go home tomorrow.” He narrows his eyes as he directs his attention to my left hand. “Unless, of course, my son’sfiancéeis planning on spending Christmas with us?”
I know I’m overreacting.
That I’m worrying over nothing.
But even if my experience with the Keyingham’s hasn’t been great, as Syn’s father pointed out in his patronizing tone, Cole can’t stay in prison for long once Preston has been arrested.
Wearily, I allow Syn to lead me out of the office, and to his bedroom. All traces of the flurry of activity from earlier have been cleared away. Once again, Syn’s room looks as pristine as a hotel room.
