Chapter 40 #2
"Show us," Killingham commanded. The screen split, and a grainy security feed appeared.
The timestamp matched what Logan had described, three days ago, in the alleyway between the English and Humanities buildings.
Cade appeared first, her purple hair unmistakable even in the poor quality.
She was walking quickly, then Damien entered the frame, moving with purpose.
I could see he had his hand tightly around her arm.
She whirled, startled. There was a brief exchange, no audio, but their body language was clear.
Cade tried to pull away. Damien's grip tightened.
She shoved at his chest. He pushed her against the wall, his hand going to her throat.
I felt sick just watching it. Cade had told us, and I wanted to hurt him, but seeing this now, I wanted to kill him.
But there was no passionate kiss, no willing embrace.
Cade was struggling, her hands clawing at his arm, her body twisting to escape.
Damien's face was twisted with rage as he leant in, saying something that made Cade's eyes widen in fear.
And then, just as Luce had claimed, she appeared at the edge of the frame, shouting something that made Damien turn.
In that moment of distraction, Cade kneed him hard and broke free, stumbling into Luce's arms. The two girls fled, leaving Damien alone in the alleyway, his posture radiating fury.
"The edited version," Whitston continued, "used AI manipulation software to alter the angle slightly and change the facial expressions and body language.
The hand at the throat remained, but was reframed as part of a passionate encounter rather than an attack.
It was good work, and would fool most people on first viewing, especially if they were already primed to believe it. "
"And who created this fake?" Killingham demanded.
"We're still tracing that," Whitston replied. "But the original appeared to be accessed using Miss Latters' student credentials. Whether she did the editing herself or had help is unclear."
"Julia," I breathed, a cold rage building in my chest. "She set this up."
"We've issued an alert for Damien McIntyre," Whitston continued. "Attacking a Consort is a serious offence. He'll be brought in for questioning as soon as he's located."
"Thank you, Mr Whitston," Killingham said. "Keep me updated on your progress." The call ended, leaving the office in stunned silence. I felt sick, the full weight of our failure crushing down on me. Cade had been telling the truth. She had been innocent.
A primal roar tore through the room as Ryder launched himself at Logan, fists flying. His first punch connected with Logan's jaw with a sickening crack, sending him sprawling back against the desk.
"You did this!" Ryder screamed, wild with rage as he rained blows down on Logan.
"You made me hurt her! You made me break her!
" I lunged forward, grabbing Ryder from behind, trying to pull him off.
Killingham joined the effort, the two of us barely managing to restrain him as he thrashed and fought to get at Logan, who made no move to defend himself.
"You believed that bitch Julia over Cade!" Ryder howled, straining against our grip. "You dragged her into those woods! You made me whip her! You made me brand her!"
"Ryder, stop!" I shouted, struggling to maintain my hold. "This isn't helping!"
"Let me go!" He twisted violently, nearly breaking free. "I'll fucking kill him!"
"Mr Purcell!" Killingham's voice cracked like thunder. "Control yourself immediately!" But Ryder was beyond reason, consumed by a rage that bordered on madness. With a final, desperate wrench, he broke free of our grasp and stumbled toward the door.
"This isn't over," he snarled at Logan, who sat slumped against the desk, blood trickling from his split lip. "You broke her. You broke us all." And then he was gone, the door slamming behind him with enough force to rattle the bookshelves.
"Let him go," Killingham said as I moved to follow. "He needs to cool off." I turned back to Logan, who hadn't moved, hadn't even tried to defend himself against Ryder's attack. Blood dripped from his lip onto his white shirt, staining it crimson.
"You should have checked," I said, my voice low and cold. "You should have verified the evidence before you dragged her in front of Williams. Before you condemned her."
"I know," Logan whispered, his voice hollow.
"I don't blame Ryder for wanting to kill you right now," I continued, unable to stop the words pouring out. "I'm pretty fucking close to it myself." Logan looked up then, his eyes empty of everything but self-loathing.
"Do it, then," he said flatly. "It's no less than I deserve."
"No," I shook my head, disgust rising in my throat. "That would be too easy. You get to live with this, just like the rest of us." I turned away, unable to bear the sight of him any longer.
"I need to be alone," I said to Killingham, who nodded once, his expression grim.
"We'll continue this discussion later," he replied. "Once tempers have cooled."
I left without another word, my steps heavy as I climbed the stairs to my room.
The house felt wrong, tainted, as if the very walls were soaked in the memory of what we'd done.
How could we ever live here again? How could we ever be what we were before?
The answer was simple: we couldn't. Covenant House was broken, perhaps beyond repair.
The three of us, once brothers in all but blood, were fractured, our bond shattered by betrayal and guilt.
And Cade, God, Cade. How could she ever forgive us?
How could she ever look at us without seeing the monsters who had tortured her, who had branded her like cattle?
I reached my room and closed the door behind me, sinking onto the edge of my bed.
The memories washed over me in relentless waves: the weight of the whip in my hand, Cade's screams tearing through the night, the sickening smell of burning flesh.
I had been a part of it. I had struck her.
I had hurt her. For what? Because of a lie.
Because we were too blinded by our own arrogance, too quick to believe the worst, too eager to assert our control.
I buried my face in my hands, my shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
We had failed her in every way possible.
And now she was alone in a hospital bed, her back a ruin of our making, her trust shattered, her heart broken.
Would she ever speak to us again? Would she ever be able to look at us without flinching?
The contract bound her to us still, but what did that matter now?
We had destroyed whatever fragile connection we'd built, whatever trust she'd begun to place in us.
My phone rang, startling me from my thoughts. Melody's name flashed on the screen, and I answered automatically, my voice rough.
"Melody? What is it?"
"Cole!" Her voice was high with panic. "You need to come to Courts House right now!" I sat up straight, alarm cutting through my fog of self-pity.
"What's happened?"
"It's Ryder," she said, her words tumbling over each other in her haste. "He just showed up here, completely out of control. He's threatening to kill Julia!" My blood ran cold.
"What?"
"He burst in during our meeting, dragged her out of her chair by her hair," Melody continued, her voice shaking.
"He's screaming about how she framed Cade, how she's going to pay for what she did. Cole, I think he might actually hurt her!"
"Fuck," I breathed, already on my feet. "I'm on my way. Try to keep him talking, don't let him-" A crash sounded in the background, followed by screams.
"Hurry!" Melody pleaded, and the line went dead.