Free Twisted Palace by Erin Watt Page A

Resisting the urge to give him the finger, I grab a container of yogurt.
    Callum claps his hands together to get our attention. “Get a spoon and meet me in the study.”
    “Us,” Steve corrects.
    Callum waves a hand as he walks away.
    “Stop it with the innuendo,” I hiss to Reed as I grab a spoon out of the drawer.
    “Why? Dad knows about us.”
    “But Steve doesn’t,” I point out. “It’s weird, okay? Let’s just pretend to be—”
    Reed quirks an eyebrow.
    “Friends,” I finish, because all the alternatives are too weird.
    “Pretend? I thought we were friends. I’m hurt.” He slaps an exaggerated hand over his chest.
    “You’re not now, but I can change that.” I wave my spoon at him threateningly. “I’m not afraid to get physical with you, pal.”
    “I can’t wait.” His hand falls to my hip and drags me closer. “Why don’t you get physical with me right now?”
    I lick my lips, and his gaze zeroes in on my mouth.
    “Reed! Ella!” Callum yells. “Study. Now!”
    I jerk away. “Let’s go.”
    I swear I hear him say cockblocker under his breath.
    In Callum’s office, we find Steve leaning against the desk while Callum paces. All traces of humor evaporate when we spot Halston Grier sitting in one of the leather club chairs situated in front of the desk.
    “Mr. Grier,” Reed says stiffly.
    Grier rises to his feet. “Reed. How are you doing, son?”
    Reed reaches around me to shake the lawyer’s hand.
    “Should I leave?” I ask awkwardly.
    “No, this involves you, Ella,” Callum answers.
    Reed comes to my side immediately and places a protective hand at my back. I notice for the first time that Callum’s tie is askew and his hair is sticking up, as if he’s dragged his hand through it a hundred times. My gaze skips over to Steve, who’s wearing jeans and a loose-hanging white shirt. He doesn’t appear to be concerned.
    I don’t know who to take my emotional cues from. My eyes bounce between the rattled Callum and the calm Steve. Does this have to do with me and not the murder case?
    “You should sit down.” This comes from Grier.
    I shake my head. “No. I’ll stand.”
    Sitting seems dangerous. It takes longer to get up from a seated position and run than it does if I’m already on both legs.
    “Dad?” Reed prompts.
    Callum sighs, this time scrubbing the heel of his hand down one side of his face. “Judge Delacorte came to me with an interesting offer.” He pauses. “It’s regarding the DNA they found under Brooke’s fingernails.”
    Reed frowns. “What about it?”
    “Delacorte’s willing to lose this evidence.”
    My jaw hits the floor. Daniel’s father is a judge . And he’s willing to “lose” evidence? That’s the most corrupt thing I’ve ever heard.
    “What’s the price?” I demand.
    Callum turns toward me. “Daniel would be allowed to come back to Astor Park. You would recant all your accusations and admit you took the drugs willingly.” He glances at his son. “When you and your brothers found her, she made up a story so you wouldn’t dislike her more than you already did. That’s the price.”
    Every atom inside of me revolts at Callum’s scenario.
    Reed erupts like a volcano. “That motherfucker! No way!”
    “If I do it…” I take a breath. “Will Reed’s charges be dropped? Will the case go away?” I direct my questions to the lawyer.
    “You’re not doing this,” Reed insists, his hand clamping onto my arm.
    I jerk out of his grasp and advance on the lawyer. “If I do this,” I repeat through gritted teeth, “will Reed be saved?”
    Behind me, Reed yells at his father for even entertaining the idea. Callum tries to soothe him, explaining that he’s not recommending I take this path.
    But obviously he wants me to or he wouldn’t have brought it up in the first place. It hurts, a little, but I get it. Callum’s trying to save his son from life in prison.
    Steve, meanwhile, says nothing. He’s just taking it all in. But I