Page 104 of Locked in Wonderland

For that, at least, I had Nico to thank.

The audience, who’d previously seemed scandalized, now looked visibly disappointed that their day in court would not include free pornography.

The twins were dismissed after that, both smirking as they left. Zane went a step further and winked at me.

It was noticeable that the narrative had again excluded Nico. Zane had even said the ‘three of us’. It begged the question of what would have happened if the film had been available. It would have been difficult to erase Nico’s role when he’d have been there in all his glory as a more than willing participant. Hell, strike that. He’d orchestrated the whole thing. I’d watched the film, and it had been obvious that Zane and Zeke weren’t the ones calling the shots.

“For my next witness,” the lawyer announced. “I call Victor Chronis.”

I stared at the courtroom door, the knot in my stomach tightening. Seconds ticked by. Maybe he wasn’t here. Maybe I’d be spared this.

I should have known I wasn’t that lucky.

The door swung open, and Victor strolled inside.

A woman sitting near the aisle dramatically fanned herself as he passed. Her friend leaned over, whispered something in her ear, and both dissolved into giggles.

Back at his apartment, I’d been too stunned by the truth to study him objectively. Now, I’d had more time to get used to the idea that he was a duplicitous agent of Wonderland, who went around collecting people like they were knickknacks to display on a shelf, rather than Warren White.

I wondered for the first time as he approached the witness box what had made him choose me? My looks? It wasn’t vanity to say I was a handsome man. Or had it been something else? Had he spotted a weakness? Something easy to manipulate?

He didn’t walk like Warren.

Warren had moved with restless nervousness.

Victor sauntered.

He didn’t dress like Warren.

Warren hid beneath loose clothes.

Victor preferred to show off his body.

And as he took his seat in the witness box and leaned forward, even his smile was different.

Warren White had been a mask. A carefully crafted illusion. A chameleon.

Was Nico a chameleon too? Was that why he wasn’t here?

Victor lifted a hand in a mocking little wave. “Every time I think I won’t see you again, Lysander, I’m proved wrong. We’re like magnets.”

“Fuck you.” The depth of satisfaction I gleaned from saying it to his face surprised me. “I don’t even know who you are.”

He laughed. “You should. I became exactly what you thought you wanted. A quiet, loyal boyfriend. Someone nervous in bed so you could take charge. Someone you could teach. Someone who’d never argue with you.”

His smile widened. “And you lapped it up.”

“Perhaps,” the lawyer interrupted, “we could return to the matter at hand.”

“Of course.” Victor sat up straighter. “I promise to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. All that jazz.”

“You wouldn’t know the truth if it smacked you in the face.”

Victor leaned back in the chair, hands clasped over his abdomen in a perfect parody of relaxed repose. “On the contrary, I always knew the truth. Can you say the same?”

Anger surged through me. “How much do they pay you for every person you bring here?”

Victor frowned theatrically. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He turned to the audience and tapped his temple. “Let this be a warning to you. Too much alcohol and too many drugs rot the brain. Before long you’re hallucinating things that simply aren’t true.”