Page 52 of Kill Me Again: Psychics

“You make me sound like a circus act. Like I juggle fire and spin plates at the same time.”

Lake’s lips twitched. “Now that would be impressive.” He reached across the table and took hold of my hand, giving it a squeeze. “Please. I know I’m taking liberties by asking, but I need to know.”

I stared at the fingers covering mine. “You really mean that, don’t you?” His frown said he didn’t understand. “You’ve done nothing but help me these past few weeks. From graveyard to Wakefield prison via a car park. You’ve been unfailingly sweet, supportive, and understanding. I think that entitles you to ask for a favor without making it sound like it’s unreasonable.”

“Is that a yes?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes.” I turned my attention to the two men. “I can only access current thoughts. They might be mundane. Most people’s are.”

Lake nodded. “I know. Just… try, please. Before Carl notices I’m here.”

Filtering out the mental noise of the pub was the hardest part, and then separating whose thoughts were whose.

“Carl’s pissed off,” I said eventually. “He doesn’t want to be here. He’s heard this lecture a thousand times before. He’d rather be with Steve.”

Lake’s eyebrow rose.

“Steve didn’t take kindly to Carl canceling tonight. Carl’s worried Steve will come to his senses and realize he’s being played.”

“So Verity was right,” Lake said quietly. “This is what Carl does. He must’ve been disappointed to only get kitchen gadgets and furniture from me.” He aimed for light, but his expression gave away the hurt and humiliation. “If Steve’s the new mark, then who’s that? Surely, he’s not playing two men at the same time?”

I focused on the other man.

“Carl was always such a good boy. Bright. Talented. Now, what’s he doing with his life? Always vague about his job. Much older boyfriends. It’s one thing for him to be gay, but why can’t he find someone his own age? And why does he move in with them when he has a perfectly good home? Where did we go wrong with him? His mother said he’d grow out of it. When? He’s twenty-five, and there’s still no sign of that happening.”

“He’s Carl’s father,” I said.

Lake blinked. “His father? Well, I guess that’s good. At least I don’t have to decide whether to interfere.”

An idea formed as I watched the two men. “Do you want revenge?”

“Revenge?” Lake said it like he’d never heard the word before.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” He hesitated. “Which is how I got into that mess with Carl in the first place. I trusted him and look where it got me.”

“I’m not Carl,” I said firmly. “And I’m not taking you for a ride. I might be more fucked up than the average man, but every word I say is the truth. Tell me you know that.”

Lake nodded. “I do.”

“Good!” I smiled. “Then let’s deal out a little retribution.”

“How? What…? I don’t…” Ignoring Lake’s protestations, I pulled him to his feet. “I should at least know the plan.”

“You just said you trusted me.”

“I do, but—”

“No buts. Just let me do all the talking.”

It was only a few steps to the table Carl sat at. Once we reached it, I positioned myself in such a way that if he got any bright ideas about making a run for it, he’d have to push me out of the way. Which wasn’t to say he wouldn’t. I’d never met the man; he might be violent. Most people rein in the worst parts of their personality in front of their parents, though, so I was counting on that to keep him in check.

I plastered myself to Lake, one arm around his waist, the other splayed possessively over his chest. Lake didn’t seem too upset that he had to wrap his arm around my waist in order to keep the pose natural.

When Carl looked up, a brief look of horror flashed across his face before he locked it down tight. “Carl!” I said brightly. “How lovely to see you. You’re looking well.” I tugged on his jacket lapel. “Is this new? It looks familiar for some reason.”

“I don’t know you,” he said stiffly, batting my hand away. “We’ve never met.”