“Holy shit,” Sofia whispers. “Louise did not age well.”
“That can’t be Louise,” I say. “She’s so… old.”
“She was always old, you guys,” Hayes says. “We just saw her wrong because of the drugs. She wasn’t a student with us, she’s a crazy fucking psychiatrist sent in to reprogram us.”
I don’t like that word. Reprogram. Especially when I’m looking at Connor and it’s so clear. So very crystal clear that they’ve given him drugs tonight.
What if he doesn’t remember me? What if he still believes what they made us think?
Or worse. What if he knows? What if he knows the truth and doesn’t choose me?
“I need him to see me,” I say, moving forward, but Hayes pulls me back.
“Not yet,” he whispers. “Stay still, Kiera. He needs to make a decision. For once in his life, Connor Arlington needs to be the one to decide his own fate.”
“My son,” the Arlington patriarch continues, “has an announcement to make tonight. Something I’ve been hoping for. Something we’ve both been working towards for the better part of the last decade. So let’s give it up for the man of the hour!”
People clap and cheer. It’s a political event so there’s red, white, and blue banners with the Arlington name on them that get waves. Looking up, I see a net filled with balloons. Not lavender—was that even real? Was any of it real?—but also red, white, and blue. Ready to be released after he makes his candidacy official.
“Good evening,” Connor says into the microphone. More cheering from his father’s loyal supporters. The whole thing is ridiculous. Everything has been planned and plotted. Set up for who knows how long. More than a decade, I’m sure. For whatever reason, Connor was the chosen one in this family and this night is just the first of many if he goes through with this. “Thank you,” he says. “Thank you all for coming.”
He’s holding some papers. His speech, I realize. He’s gonna do it. He’s gonna read that speech. One he didn’t write, I know that for sure. He’s gonna say those words, and make this real, and—
But then he puts them aside.
I look at his father, pursing his lips. He leans in and whispers something but Connor puts up a hand.
The crowd begins to murmur things. Things I’m thinking too. “What’s he doing?” “What was that?” “What’s going on?”
Connor searches the crowd and people start looking around. His father finds me first and just as he opens his mouth—most likely to call for security—Connor says, “There you are, Kiera.”
He’s slurring his words a little and I feel sick all of a sudden. Sick that he’s going to say something wrong. Something that will rip his life apart and take me out at the same time.
“Come up here,” he says.
And then the crowd parts, and the whispers are louder now. “Who’s that?” “Who’s she?” “What’s happening?” There’s a direct lane of empty space between me and the podium where Connor stands.
Hayes leans into me, pulling the book out of my purse and placing it in my hands. “You know what to do,” he says.
I do.
No matter what Connor’s choice is. No matter who he chooses. I have a mission here. A mission to expose them.
“Come on,” Connor says, motioning to me with his fingers in a way that conveys power. A way that let’s everyone know he’s in control. A way that makes me nervous.
How much does he know?
But there’s no more time because my feet are moving forward and soon I’m at the podium, looking up at him.
“I have a choice to make tonight. You see… I love this woman.”
Gasps from the crowd.
“Connor,” his father says sharply. And even though he’s whispering, I’m close enough to hear him now. “Stop it right—”
“Her name is Kiera Bonnaire. And she writes erotica.”
I suck in a deep, deep breath. A few people laugh loudly. Several close to me snicker.
“Come here,” Connor whispers, holding out his hand. “Come up and stand beside me.”
I search for the stairs that will take me up to him, but several men are blocking my way. Telling me in no uncertain terms that this is not gonna happen.
Connor turns to his father and says, right into the microphone, “She wrote a book called The Dirty Ones. It’s sitting on the New York Times bestseller list right now at number three.”
Loud gasps. No one is bothering to whisper anymore.
“And she made a promise when she wrote that book. Just one. She promised that the story was true.”
“Connor,” his father says, loud now. “Stop. Right now. You have no idea—”
“I know exactly what I’m doing,” Connor says, looking me straight in the eyes. “And you can stop her from joining me if you want, but this announcement will be made.”
“What is it?” someone calls. “What’s the announcement? Are you running for Senate?”