Page 260 of Vexatious Queen

“I don’t understand,” he said, dropping the gun inside.

Mark jumped as the box snapped closed, and I handed it back to Liam.

“So, here is what will happen, Mr. Miller, listen very carefully. That gun is linked to a murder.” He covered his mouth. “An open investigation involving an athlete from Hawking Shores. It’s a real tragic case. Do you understand?” He nodded. “Good. Now…you’re going to do exactly as I tell you.”

Some days I wished I’d never been born into this world and then other days…I fucking loved it.

MARCH 15 – SUNDAY 1:00 AM

Ren

My phone rang, and I grabbed it on the first buzz. Ivy’s name lit the screen, and my chest tightened before I even answered.

“Hey,” I said. “Are you okay?”

I’d spammed her with messages. Too many. Asking if she needed me. If she was safe. If she had gotten released. Every unanswered text had made my thoughts spiral darker.

“As good as can be expected,” she said, and I heard it immediately. The strain. The way fear sat in the back of your throat. “I’ve never been so scared in my life, Ren. And they still have Sabastian.”

Then she broke.

I pressed my palm to my eyes as her sobs filled the line. Logically, I understood why the guys had done what they had. I could recite the reasons. The threats. The risks. But moments like this made me wonder if I was truly built for this world.

How did you ruin someone’s life…then listen as those you loved cried, and still believe you were doing the right thing?

“Did you see him? At the jail?”

“Yeah,” she sniffed. “He wouldn’t even look at me. He thinks I had something to do with this.”

Guilt hit fast and sharp, like a slap across the face. I dragged a hand through my hair and resumed pacing as the walls closed in around me.

“I swear to you, Ren,” she said desperately. “I didn’t.”

“I know,” I said immediately. “I believe you.”

“What is wrong with me,” she asked, her voice breaking again. But this time, she didn’t cry. “Both of the guys I love are in jail? Do I just have terrible taste in men or what?”

The question wasn’t really about men. It was about blame. About control. About needing something to make sense.

“This isn’t about you,” I said. “None of this is.”

“It sure feels like it is,” she shot back. “I never should’ve told Sabastian coming to Wayward was a good idea. When he brought it up, I should’ve shut it down. Maybe none of this would’ve happened.”

Maybe. The word lodged in my throat.

I didn’t know if it would have changed anything. But the possibility that his transferring made it worse pressed down on me just the same.

“Ren,” she said softly, and I braced myself. “Be honest with me. Did the guys do this to him?”

There it was. The question I was praying she wouldn’t ask, but knew would come, sooner or later.

Hope and fear tangled together in her voice, and it hurt more than if she’d just accused me outright.

I bit my knuckle and breathed in slowly through my nose.

“This is Christov’s fault,” I said carefully.

It wasn’t a lie. It just wasn’t the whole truth.