Linc had changed up their routine somewhat to thwart the horde of reporters. They’d taken Charlie’s new Land Rover and Linc had brought them in through the service entrance. They’d arrived just before dinner to minimize Wyatt’s interaction with others. The boy wasn’t doing well. If he was sullen before his father’s visit, he was now downright maudlin. He’d spent hours in the bathroom before they left, just sitting in the empty bathtub staring at the wall. Linc had no idea how to help him.
There was nothing he could do now that they were there in front of all those prying eyes. Since the senator had invited the press, they sat scattered among the others in their finest clothes, making it impossible for Linc to know who they were… all except one. The reporter from theMiami Sunsat dead center of the group and she had eyes only for Wyatt.
Linc could only stand with his back to the wall with the other security staff, his gaze glued to Wyatt who looked like he was about to puke into his beet salad. Beside him, Charlie split her time between making inflammatory comments to the rest of their table and casting worried looks in Wyatt’s direction.
He wasn’t even attempting to play his father’s games. Gone was the Wyatt who would smirk and joke and even flirt with harmless old ladies. His father’s comments yesterday had broken something in Wyatt, something Linc wasn’t sure anybody could fix.
He winced along with the others as feedback filtered through the overhead speakers followed by a loud tap on the microphone. A woman cleared her throat and people turned in their seats to give her their attention. Linc had never seen the woman before. She was a petite brunette with glossy chestnut hair and a big fake smile wearing a high-necked purple gown that hugged her tiny figure. “Excuse me, y’all. If I might have your attention for just a moment? Thank you.”
Once everybody had quieted, she continued, introducing herself to the audience as Calliope Jenner, the personal assistant of Senator Edgeworth himself, before droning on at length about all the good Monty had done for the state of Florida and how she couldn’t be prouder to work for him. The man of the hour sat at the table at the front of the stage, beaming at the girl. Wyatt’s mother didn’t seem as fond.
“But enough of me, please help me give a warm welcome to the man himself, Senator Montgomery Edgeworth.”
She clapped enthusiastically, a deranged smile on her face until a smattering of others joined in. Monty rose, waving like a beauty queen before taking the stage. Wyatt had said the man would receive some kind of award tonight, though Linc couldn’t imagine what for. Did they have a World’s Biggest Asshole award? Most of the state hated the man’s guts.
“Thank you. Thank you. It’s great to see everybody here tonight. Especially you, Ted. You still owe me a hundred bucks off our last golf game. I hope you brought your checkbook.” Everybody tittered at his lame joke. “Y’all think I’m kidding. He’s a terrible golfer.” His smile slipped away. “No, but seriously, folks. I’m afraid I’ve brought you here under false pretenses. I know you think this is just another fundraiser for me—which it is—but tonight we’re gathering for another reason, to honor my dear friend, Victor Osborne, and celebrate all the contributions he’s made to making Florida great again, the kind of state that embodies our ideals and our vision of the future. So, please join me in welcoming him to the stage to receive the 2019 Florida Visionary Award.”
This time the applause was thunderous. The blood drained from Wyatt’s face. Charlie’s eyes cut to Linc, her hand settling between Wyatt’s tight shoulders. Linc’s blood rushed in his ears as he stared down Wyatt’s rapist, smiling and waving from the stage. That’s what he was. A fucking rapist, and if Linc got five seconds alone with the man, he’d rip his throat out without a second thought.
The man gestured for everybody to quiet down. “Thank you. Thank you, everybody, so much. While tonight is about the good senator and doing everything in our power to get him re-elected and keep that hippie out of office, I want to share some exciting news. Light of God Ministries has truly received a multitude of blessings this year. You, and others like you, have opened your hearts and your wallets and thanks to your generous donations, we are honored to announce we are expanding our campuses to include Northern Florida, Georgia, Tennessee, and the Carolinas. Children and teens all across the nation will now come and learn of His word, receive the discipline and attention they need to turn away from the sins of the secular world, and grow to be good God-fearing Christian men and women.”
There was a smattering of applause, but Victor was scanning the crowd as if looking for someone. Linc’s stomach dropped. Wyatt. When he found Wyatt, ghost white and sweating, he gave a slippery smile that made Linc’s skin crawl and sent his heart rate through the roof.
“Wyatt, stand up, please.”
Wyatt looked around in confusion, his gaze locking on his father who stood in the shadows of the stage. One look from his father had him lurching to his feet. Charlie gripped his hand, linking their fingers to hide his trembling.
Victor raised his hand to block the stage lights, narrowing his beady eyes at Wyatt. “There he is. Many of you don’t know this, but Wyatt spent every summer at the ministry throughout high school, worked closely with me as not only a devoted student but an intern of sorts, working the programs just as the other students did. It seems only fitting now that he help me expand our reach. I look forward to working closely with you in the future.”
Wyatt stood paralyzed long enough for Victor to raise his glass in a toast and for the others to follow suit, but as soon as Victor left the stage, Wyatt wrenched his hand from Charlie’s grasp and stumbled toward the doors of the ballroom.
Charlie watched him go, lost as to what had just happened. “Guess it wasn’t Monty’s award after all,” she muttered as she reached Linc’s side. “What the fuck am I missing? What’s going on?”
“I don’t know, but I need to find him. Can you try to run interference with his father?”
“Done.”
Wyatt snagged a glass of champagne from the server as she passed, downing it before snagging another from a different server, a man with dark curly hair who smiled at him as he took his empty glass. Wyatt didn’t smile back. He kept his head on a swivel, trying to find the closest bathroom. He should have seen this coming. He should have kept his guard up, but he was just too fucking tired. He was tired of the games and tired of hurting. It was all too much.
He located the sign pointing toward the restroom, flagging down another server as he passed, gulping down his third glass. He wasn’t wasted enough to deal with any of this. He was halfway to the restaurant when he spotted Miranda speed-walking toward him in a black cocktail dress and sky-high stilettos.Not fucking now.“No comment,” he snapped, attempting to side-step the reporter.
She tilted her head, looking confused. “I really don’t get you. I would think you’d love the free publicity. I’m certain your father and Victor Osborne would. Your father just handed you the keys to a kingdom, but you look like somebody shot your puppy.”
“Just leave me alone, lady. Don’t you have better things to do than worry about my life?” He pressed forward, leaving her behind.
“Seems like an awfully big responsibility for a twenty-two-year-old with a record, but I guess when your daddy’s a senator, things like that get swept under the rug.”
Wyatt stopped short at her words, turning around. “So, you know?”
She smirked at him, raising one perfectly manicured brow. “About your multiple DUIs? Your house arrest? About how somehow your father managed to get it buried? Yeah, I know. We have private investigators too.”
Wyatt shook his head, feeling trapped. “Why are you doing this? Why are you so concerned with my life? What did I ever do to you?”
Miranda scoffed. “What did you do? You rich white men get to wear your privilege like it’s Teflon armor. Nothing ever sticks to guys like you and your father. His barbaric policies never touch people like you… they only affect people like me. People of color. The LGBT community. Women. Guys like you always have daddies that buy your way out of DUIs and get you fancy jobs you’re not qualified for. Nobody feels sorry for you.”
“Fuck you, lady,” was all that Wyatt could manage.
Once in the restroom, he locked himself in the very last stall, pressing his head against the coolness of the door. He slipped his hand into his pocket, closing it around that tiny piece of paper he’d taken from above the medicine cabinet before he’d left home. He pulled his suit jacket off and dropped it to the floor, shoving up the sleeve of his left arm. He unwrapped the blade, blinking through sweat and tears. He just needed one cut. Just one, just enough to relieve the ache, to get the poison out of him and make the pressure go away.
