Chapter 45
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Wyatt is drunk. Like, blackout drunk. I stare at the way Oakley’s rubbing his back as he heaves up bile.
“Oakley…” I caution. I’m not sure what’s going on, but everything is wrong. I feel the danger crawling up my back. Wyatt is acting so…off, and it makes me want to claw my skin off.
“This is Kyan,” Oakley insists, looking at me with such conviction and passion in his gaze that it startles me. Oakley’s eyes are wide and glassy, and he looks…damn near crazed.
I raise my hands, looking over my shoulder to make sure we’re still alone. The deck is off some sort of sunroom where a tree limb has come down through the roof in a more secluded area of the villa. We had come here to look for some avenue of escape before Oakley ran off like a crazy person.
Wyatt curls up in Oakley’s arms, and Oakley comforts him out in the rain like a newborn baby.
I almost rip Oakley off of him, but there’s this nagging in the back of my head.
Wyatt’s features are exactly the same—the bad boy, roguish tattoos, the dark hair now spilling over his forehead, and the dark eyes.
Only, right now, they aren’t calculating.
They’re glassy and happy and…vulnerable.
Right. What game is he playing? Why the hell would he pretend to look for me with Oakley if he knew exactly where I was? What possible benefit could he be getting from befriending Oakley?
My stomach churns with the possibilities. Are they working together?
I take a step back, and Oakley notices.
“Ky, where the hell is Wyatt?”
Kyan just stares up into Oakley’s eyes and pets his face.
“Ky.” Oakley shakes his hand off. “Wyatt is trying to kill us.”
Slowly, Wyatt’s brow furrows. I stare at him. He actually looks confused, and a slew of emotions fills me. Is he just a really good actor, and I’ve stopped being able to read people?
Suddenly, a wild idea hits me. I freeze, staring at the man on the ground. The idea is so crazy that it makes me stare blankly.
Is Wyatt a twin?