54. Carl's deadly secret

Anderson immediately lifted his head the moment the door opened.

He squinted at what Carl carried languidly in his right hand. His heart stopped for a moment and then he gasped in surprise. Carl noticed this and grinned at him. Their eyes met, Anderson’s startled, Carl’s mocking and cocky.

    “Recognize this, huh?”

“It’s the same one, isn’t it?” Anderson asked as Carl dumped it on the bed. “The mask you wore at Eva’s party!”

Carl chuckled, his gorgeous cognac eyes gleaming with more excitement than Anderson had ever seen, “Yes, it’s the mask *Nico* wore. You have a pretty retentive memory. I have no idea what your mask looked like.”

  Anderson’s throat felt dry when he swallowed. He choked on his saliva and coughed out profusely, slightly embarrassed at the sight of the mask. “Why…the hell do you even have that though?” he squinted at the door suspiciously, “I didn’t see you after school, where are you coming from?”

   Carl stared at him with bored eyes, “You never see me after school.”

Anderson scratched his hair, “Oh, touche.” He mumbled, then a sudden thought kicked his curiosity into motion again and he sat up, crossing both legs over the other as he stared at Carl eagerly, “So? How did it go with Sam? Did she budge? Or are we actually fucked?”

   Carl frowned and shook his head. He enjoyed watching Anderson’s face drop desolately. “I thought you were a genius with that information you elicited from Mia, but it turns out that-”

  Anderson sighed and stared down at his sky-blue bedsheet, his mind was set for Carl’s scolding.

  “…you’re a fucking mastermind!” Carl exclaimed and Anderson raised his face in shock, his jaw dropping. “Worked like fucking magic. We’ll be expecting a protest tomorrow. I spoke to her and a message will be dropped tonight.”

Anderson’s eyes grew with fascination and admiration, “What?” he exclaimed and jumped off the bed, “How the fuck did you get it to work out?”

   “A little of my intimidating tone, and more of those secrets you revealed to me.” Carl replied, not wanting Anderson to know about the evidence he had gathered from Buck.

The only thing Anderson had gotten from Mia was Sam’s affair with Mr. Callum’s affair. The rest of it, including the pictures, was all Buck. And funny enough, Buck’s report had also contained details about Mr. Callum. So, if Carl wanted to be frank, he actually hadn’t needed Anderson for this one, but then he wanted to make the latter happy for once, even though it went against his character.

   Anderson lost his mind.

In a feat of excitement, he threw himself at Carl. Carl caught him in his arms and there they were, entwined in each other’s comforting embrace. Anderson rested his head on Carl’s shoulders and the rich, thick scent of lavender swirled around his nostrils. The heat from Carl’s body sizzled through his body like an electric spark that had been transferred. He swallowed and slowly pulled away from Carl, his face nervous and rueful.

   “I’m sorry…I…I didn’t mean-” His words got stuck in his throat and he chunked them down with a slurp of saliva when his eyes rested on Carl’s lips. He took a deep, shaking breath. His body gradually became riddled with desire, but he couldn’t make the first move.

  He slowly detached himself and turned to walk away. He released a stifled cry when Carl suddenly grabbed his arm and yanked him back. He had barely gotten over the shock when Carl’s lips crashed against his hungrily. He closed his eyes and parted his lips, allowing Carl bury his tongue in his throat. It felt like someone had lit a match and allowed the fire to consume him from inside out.

  His fingers found their way into Carl’s hair, ruffling and digging recklessly. Carl suddenly pulled away from him and shoved him off his legs. Anderson landed on his butt with a thud, but thankfully, the thick carpets absorbed most of the impact. He stared at Carl hungrily, his eyes laden with frustration and a creeping char of anger.

    Carl rose to his feet, “What?” he asked, “You wanted a kiss, I just kissed you. What else do you want?”

Anderson saw the edges of his eyes twist mockingly and he looked away with a frown. He got to his knees, then his feet and without looking at Carl, he replied, “Nothing. I don’t want anything.”

  Carl grinned as he watched him march angrily to his bed. He stepped into the bathroom and ran the shower. His heart was thumping and his insides churned; a strange feeling that made him wonder. He could understand why his body was reacting this way to Anderson, that could be attributed to the sexual attraction.

 But why was his heart being a craving bitch?

***

Anderson was resting peacefully when Carl stopped at the door and glanced at him one last time. As stealthily as he could, he walked out of the room without making a sound. The moment he heard the door close, Anderson’s eyes opened. His heart was racing, Buck’s scary face lingering at the back of his mind.

   He slipped out of bed and tiptoed to the door. He heard Carl’s retreating footsteps and followed him at a good distance. The dark provided a good cover for him, but this time Anderson was determined that he wasn’t going to lose Carl no matter what. A lot depended on him succeeding tonight, tomorrow was his deadline.

   No! There was no way he could fail!

He raced down the stairs and pushed the front doors open. He caught Carl sneaking through the small gate again while the guard he had bribed pretended to go for a fake routine patrol. Anderson quickly slipped out of the gates also. He had no idea how he was going to get back in, but he assured himself that he would.

   “*Somehow, somehow*.”

Carl got lost in the boisterous city after a ten minutes’ walk once more, but this time Anderson was much more vigilant. He couldn’t lose him. He felt pores of sweat forming on his face after about ten minutes of strenuously keeping up with Carl. He took deep breaths now, bothered that they were getting too far away from Beale Crest.

   Carl wandered into a lonely, eerie street and Anderson hesitated to follow him in there. He glanced back at the busy street. What the hell was a billionaire’s kid doing in a smelly street like this at this hour of the day?

 He followed him and his heart almost jumped to his throat when Carl suddenly glanced back at the street. He hid behind a dumpster, holding his breath in for dear life. He saw the bouncers that stood in front of a rusty metal door. Carl showed them a brown card and they allowed him walk in. Anderson’s nerves grew even more tense, he knew there was no way he was getting through that door without that guard. Those guards were terrifying enough to fray him off.

     He headed down the street again. That was clearly the back door, and he was sure they had to be another way in. It didn’t take long for him to find the queue of people when he cornered the building. Hesitantly, he decided to join the queue, hoping it would lead him to Carl.

   He froze when he felt a hand on his shoulder and slowly turned around. His eyes widened when he saw who it was.

“Fucking hell! I knew it was you!” Jason exclaimed and laughed, “you sneak out to watch the death car racing too?” Jason smirked at him with an insinuating stare, “you’re a bad boy now, eh, Andie?”

  Anderson blinked in confusion, “Hold on, Jason. Did you say death car racing?”

“Hell yeah!” Jason replied, “frankly, I was shocked when I saw you coming out from that corner.” He said and pointed towards the dark street Anderson had emerged from. “Did you try to get in through the other door?”

    “Uhm…yeah?”

“Oh, silly!” Jason chortled and smacked his shoulder. “You can’t go in there. Only the racers go in through the back door. The spectator’s line up here.”

Anderson’s blood chilled and his eyes widened with realization.

   Carl was a death car racer?!