That word has always been a taboo subject for us, and sure enough, Jenn shoots me a sour look. For a long time, we stare at each other until, finally, she puffs out an exasperated breath and snatches the photo from the tabletop. She holds it in front of her face for several seconds, then tosses it back at me.
“I don’t know these people because that’s not me.”
“Then why did you have to look at it for so damn long?” I fire back, and her blue eyes narrow to slits.
“Damn it, Mal, you never stop,” she snaps. “I looked at it because it seemed important to you, but that ain’t me. I swear on my life and yours it’s not me.”
“It has to be. She looks—”
“Well, it’s not. I don’t know these people, and I’ve never been on your snobby fucking campus, you got me?” Her hands are shaking so violently, I’m not surprised when she tucks them under the table, but I can still hear her foot pumping up and down, tapping out a random, nervous beat. “You ever consider…”
I hate when she trails off like that.
“What?”
She pulls in a breath then lifts one of her bony shoulders in a half-shrug. “You said someone left it for you, right?” I nod, and she continues. “And those little motherfuckers that go to your school—they don’t like you, right?”
My spine stiffens. How does she know that?
She purses her lips in a smug smile. “Just because I didn’t email you back, don’t think I didn’t see the messages you sent at Christmas.”
God, she really is awful to admit that. I almost tell her that, but she keeps flapping her chapped lips.
“Who’s to say one of them didn’t Photoshop some crazy shit onto a picture to play games with your head? Because that looks more like you than it ever has like me.” She nods down to the picture.
“But—”
“You go to school with a bunch of overprivileged shits. All this sounds like to me is some mean ass joke to make you feel special and send you on some crazy search for a rich daddy and a photo-manipulated momma. Stop being so naïve, baby girl, your real dad wasn’t anybody important.”
Well. That burns.
My face is numb as I settle back in the booth, but I try not to show my disappointment. “This was the only reason I came back to this place,” I whisper. “I should’ve just stayed—”
“No!” Jenn has lost her smirk in the blink of an eye, and she looks suddenly anxious. “You need to stay there, Mallory. Stick it out until the end, do you understand me? You can’t fuck up this opportunity.”
I let out a frustrated groan. “Why do you—”
But she reaches across the table and grabs my shoulder, sinking her jagged nails into my flesh until I cry out. She shakes me a few times before hissing, “You’re not fucking going anywhere.”
I stare at her with wide eyes. “Momma … what the hell?”
Maybe I was wrong. She’s obviously very, very out of it right now.
As if suddenly realizing she’s crossed a line, she releases my arm and slams back down into her side of the booth. “Sorry,” she murmurs, pressing the palm of her hand between her eyes. “I-I need to smoke. To clear my head. I’ll be right back.”
“Hold on—” But she’s already out of the booth, snatching her cigarettes and lighter before she stumbles away. I consider chasing after her but eventually decide against it. I’m not really keen on getting mixed up in the crowd she’s disappearing into.
She’s left my copy of the photo behind, though, so I take a moment and study it. Specifically, I study Nora. I just don’t know if I can completely believe Jenn, but the more I look at the girl, the more I really do see myself, not my mom.
Same dark hair.
Same blue eyes.
Same nose. Same chin.
Fuck. Was Jenn telling the truth? Is this all just another sick prank?
Before I know it, fifteen minutes have passed, and there’s still no sign of Mom. Damn it. It shouldn’t take her this long to smoke.
Since I’m getting some strange looks from the other bar patrons, I decide it’s probably best that I leave now. Pushing from the booth, I grab the photo and stuff it into my pocket before squaring my shoulders to make my way through the crowd, careful not to make eye contact with anyone. I don’t breathe again until I reach the front door, and when I push outside, I take a gulp of the cool night air like I’m coming out of water.
The bouncer from before is still here, but he’s chatting up a few scantily clad girls, so he doesn’t even notice me. I look around, searching for my mom, but I only see a couple of guys leaning against the outside of the bar, smoking themselves.
She’s nowhere to be found, and I’m positive she’s left me here alone.
Unreliable bitch.
I pull out my phone, my brain scrambling to find a way out of this mess. I dial Ghost’s number, but it doesn’t go through. Fuck. Did he use a burner phone?
I tell myself not to panic. This is why Uber was invented, even if it will spell out certain doom for my checking account.
“Hey, girl, you lost?” one of the guys smoking against the side of the building asks me. “We’d love to help you out.”
I pull up the car service app and start to punch in my information, doing my best to ignore him and his friend, who also joins in on the shit show.
“Of course, we’ll help you after a quick fuck in the bathroom. What do you say? You look like a girl who loves—”
“Not interested.” My cheeks are burning with anger, and my hands are starting to tremble, making it difficult to order my ride.
“Little thing like you would only come to a place like this if you were curious,” the first guy says, a chuckle in his voice. “We’ll happily help you with...”
I stop paying attention. I keep my eyes glued to my screen, but I’m worried they’ll come closer to me. Even if I can get an Uber ordered, I’ll have to wait here with these fuckers. They’re still talking, but I’m not listening. I can’t. I’ll lose my shit if I actually focus in on whatever they’re saying.
Those guys? My mom? Saint and Ghost? Everything about this entire night has been one rage-inducing nightmare, and I am officially over it. Tears burn my eyes as my chest clenches. I just want to go home. Back to Georgia. Back to Carley.
Fuck Jenn and Ghost.
Fuck Angelview.
Fuck this whole, fucked up mess.
“It’s rude to ignore people, baby. We want to show you something,” one of the guys shouts, and I tense when I hear him take a step toward me.
I can’t get my thumbs to hold steady long enough to get an Uber. Would the bouncer actually help me, or just encourage them?
Another step, then another. He’s getting closer, and I’m completely at a loss as to what to do.
Suddenly, a midnight blue Lamborghini with temporary plates turns sharply onto the street and speeds toward me. I stare at it in awe, momentarily distracted by how gorgeous it is, but I’m surprised when it comes to a stop in front of me.
What the actual fuck?
The window rolls down, and I lose my breath.
Blond hair. Blue eyes. And a deliciously cruel smile that gives my pulse a little jolt. Saint’s sitting in the driver’s seat, looking at me expectantly.