As if my thoughts summoned him, my father walks in, his long robe sweeping the ground. Behind him come the rest of the High Council and most of the kids with their shirts stained red with paint.
I look only at my father and ask one singleword, “Why?”
He doesn’t give me his answer. Instead, he turns to the crowd and announces in a loud voice, “I told you today that this was a test of obedience. Nelson is dead because his father, Nel, threatened the safety of The Order. He had plans to expose us, share our secrets with the world.” He shakes his head like the news saddens him, which is a lie, nothing more. To feel sorrow, you’d need to have a heart, and my father has none.
In my bedroom in Ashford House, older sleeping me mumbles, “He’s a monster.”
Father continues, “I killed Nel earlier today. I took his life and now, as it is fitting, my son has taken the life of his son. His bloodline, his legacy. is over. Removed from the path to perfection.”
I look down at the body at my feet, numb as the realization crashes into me.
I may have killed Nelson.
But my father loaded the gun.
Sleeping me moans, cries out.
Finally, Father looks at me and says, “The other lesson today was about trust. Carrson and all of you who are about to leave your parents’ houses and go off to college, you need to understand that we will no longer be there to guide and mold you, to protect and provide for you.” His eyes drill into me as he delivers the final lines, “Remember. Trust no one. Not even each other. It’s time for yo—”
“Carrson. Carrson,” Laurel’s voice is a light leading me out of darkness. I follow it with my eyes closed but my hands outstretched. “Wake up.” She shakes my shoulder, cups my face, kisses me lightly. “It’s just a dream. Come back to me.”
Slowly I drag my eyelids open. The first thing I see is the moon, different from the one that shone down on Nelson’s dead body. This one doesn’t watch me. It doesn’t grin or grimace. It glows.
Then I see her.Laurel. Her face is inches from mine, pinched with concern.
“You were having a terrible nightmare. Are you okay?”
I wrap my arms around her and pull her into me, burying my face in her hair. Her arms curl around me as well. She holds me close and lets me fall apart. She soothes me with soft murmurs and small kisses peppered to my chest. When I finally release my tight hold on her, she moves back and looks upinto my face. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Mutely, I shake my head no. It’s not that I don’t trust her or that I want to lock her out. It’s just that the dream felt so real. I worry giving it a voice will only make it stronger, make it impossible for me to sleep again.
“Not now,” I tell her. “Someday.”
She nods. No pressure. Just presence.
Laurel reaches up and runs her fingertips through my hair. She repeats the gesture, then massages my scalp until I relax into her.
I think about the dream, about my father, about rule number four.
Trust no one.
And I think…
Fuck it.
Iamgoing to trust.
It’ll be the ultimate act of defiance.
I’m going to trust Laurel.
Chapter thirty-one
Laurel
Carrson and I are dancing in the field behind Ashford House.
“I fucking hate this,” he growls in my ear. I pull back to see the unhappy twist of his mouth. “Why do you have to look so fucking gorgeous tonight?” he complains, his eyes trailing over me with a heat that makes me want to drag him into the bushes and do naughty things with him.
