Page 87 of Twisted Elites

“Sorry about that. I panicked when I saw you jump out of the car.”

Adrenaline rushed through my system, and my heartbeat so hard, so fast, that pain spread through my chest. I was in a convertible, speeding down the highway at eighty miles an hour with a boy who had lost his fucking faculties. There was no doubt in my mind that trying to escape would mean my death.

“Did you put me in that cave, too?” I asked.

“Garraway’s fault. If he had pointed the finger at Miss Claymore, I would never have attacked you.”

“Why not hurt her directly instead of doing it through me?” I blurted.

Cormac shook his head. “I must seem completely unreasonable to you.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, in case this was a continuation of last night’s peculiar dream. That was the understatement of the millennium. “Why?”

“The police needed to reopen Corrine’s case.” Cormac reached across and patted me on the knee. “Everything you suffered needed to mirror Corrine’s death. The last time we tried to frame him, it didn’t work, and I couldn’t let her down this year.”

“Wha—” I choked on air and had to thump my chest to clear my windpipe. “Last time? What are you talking about?”

“Corrine’s death,” he said, as though the answer was obvious. “We staged it so the police would arrest Kashaayah.”

I shook my head. “She’s alive?”

“She wanted to die, and I helped her. All the symbolism was there. Pork ribs in the body cavities to indicate the pull-a-pig game, her body laid out on a beautiful Indian rug, and she even chose the brand of single-malt whiskey those reprobates enjoy as her poison of choice.”

“Why didn’t you stop her?”

“Corrine was going to throw herself out of a fourth-floor window in the east wing if I didn’t help her. I didn’t want her leaving this world in pain or surviving and ending up like Bianca Byrd.”

“Did you—”

“Miss Byrd deserved what I did to her. She bullied my sister relentlessly, just as she bullied you.”

I considered opening the door and jumping out of the car, but we were in the middle lane and going too fast. On our right, a Mercedes overtook us, and a lorry trundled toward us on the left. Leaving a moving vehicle would mean a certain death. At least if I played along with Cormac, I might have a chance of survival.

“How did those girls know the circumstances of Corrine’s death?”

“They didn’t.” Cormac turned the Aston Martin down a highway that led to the mountains. “I gave Geraldine the idea for the sister’s dilemma and the penalty, hoping you would report the girls to the police and make them reopen the case.”

A shiver ran down my spine. It made sense in a twisted sort of way. Anyone aware of what had been found in Corrine’s dead body would have looked twice when they discovered what had happened to me. Especially since that information was never made public.

As the incline steepened, the road narrowed from two lanes to one. The clouds thinned, letting through the full strength of the sun. Sweat beaded on my temple, and my throat dried. I had to get out, but how? If I ran through the mountains, Cormac would chase me until I stumbled and fell to my death.

“Did you poison Bruce Wilmington’s hookah?” I asked.

He tilted his head to the side and gave me a fond smile. “Sorry. Ashley did that all by herself and even placed recording devices in peoples’ rooms. She tried to disguise herself as she did the rounds, but I noticed.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He blew out a weary breath. “I didn’t spot what Ashley had done until after she’d stolen all my evidence against Kashaayah. After she threatened Wilmington, I told him she’d gathered enough evidence on him to frame him for Corrine’s death. Your sister really is a piece of work.”

“So, Bruce really beat her up?”

“He roughed her up a bit and dumped her in the hallway. It was me who dragged her to Kashaayah’s room to finish the job with a cricket bat.”

I clapped a hand over my mouth to stifle a sob. “Why go so far?”

“Revenge for everything she did to you.” He raised a shoulder. “And it was a prime opportunity to get Kashaayah locked up.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to protest his innocence, but of course, Cormac knew this. He’d fucking helped his sister to die.