She hasn’t even made it to the driveway, and he’s already stepping from his car.
My heart screams for me to run, but my feet don’t get the message, and then Anthony’s standing just outside the entrance, his phone to his ear.
His voice carries through the grand doors as he argues with the person on the other line, threatening to take their name off of a party list, knowing that taking a man’s access to the world he believes he belongs is the quickest way to get what you want. I could almost roll my eyes if I wasn’t already spinning in my head.
More words are mumbled, followed by a hard demand and snapped ‘not a minute past,’ and then he’s walking in, a perfect grin already in place, blue eyes bright and shining.
“Wow.” His smile seems to spread. “I didn’t expect walking inside to find you waiting for me to feel so exciting.”
That makes one of us.
I force my mouth to curve up, my eyes trailing his every move as he slips his jacket from his back and that maid I spotted earlier comes out of nowhere and sweeps it from his hold, the two not once making eye contact.
He pulls his wallet from his pocket and sets it on top of the square crystal bowl on the table near the door and turns to me with his hands in his pockets.
He smiles, stepping closer. “You seem a bit stunned.”
A quick laugh leaves me. “Yeah, I’m definitely surprised, but my mother is nothing if not stealthily shocking.”
It takes effort not to look away.
He nods, three feet from me now. “On our last few outings, I had suggested a little more for us, but maybe I was too subtle.”
His eyes hold on mine and I can read what he’s not saying.
Maybe he was too subtle or maybe I wasn’t paying attention.
Maybe I was occupied.
My skin prickles as I realize. “You asked for this...”
His lips curl into a full smile, teeth and all. “I did.”
“Why?” I can’t keep from asking.
His brows snap together, but it’s too late to backtrack, so I wait for an explanation that never comes.
His demeanor shifts and his attention moves to my luggage, the pieces lined exactly as they were on the floor of my home, now in his.
I don’t even know what’s inside them.
Anthony licks his lips. “There’s a room down here in the back part of the house. Gorgeous view for a gorgeous girl.” He lifts the golden J in his palm, flipping it over to inspect the back.
“They’re real,” I offer since he seems intent on knowing.
His eyes lift to mine and he walks into the kitchen area, where a glass, a third of the way filled with golden liquid, sits waiting for him. “Nana will get things moved for you. If you’d like her to unpack for you, she will. If you’re particular about where things go, let her know and she’ll do all she can to make you happy, as will I.”
“Coffee makes me happy,” I throw out, pushing back how ridiculous this entire situation is for a moment, just to see his reaction.
Because fuck tea.
Fuck everything.
Why am I doing this? I should leave...
Anthony’s glass halts at his lips, and surprisingly, he chuckles, walking toward me with kind eyes and soft steps.
I don’t flinch when his palm lifts, gently falling to my cheek. “Tell me what you like, and I’ll have it delivered for you.”
Someone already knows what I like.
A sharp pain hits my ribs.
“All I want, sweetheart, is to be everything you want,” he says.
You could never be.
“I have some work to do, but if you prefer, I put it off to help you get comfortable, I will.”
“No,” I say, maybe too quickly and the edges of his eyes tighten, though he tries to hide it. I clear my throat, smiling. “No, I’ll be fine. I won’t lie, this is a change I wasn’t prepared for, but I’ll settle in fine. Do what you need to and I’ll... go find my room.” I push my tongue into the back of my teeth, my tolerance for this nightmare nearly peaking.
I might lose it if I can’t find a solo moment to breathe soon.
He nods, and I don’t miss the way the pads of his fingers search my skin where the cut once was.
Anger flares in my abdomen, but I keep the sugary tone he expects. “It healed enough to hide.”
His eyes glide to mine again and he nods slowly.
“And once again, she’s perfection,” he whispers, letting his hand fall as he steps past me, but before he rounds the corner, he pauses. “I’ll be home the remainder of the day, and I’ll already be at the office by the time you leave for class in the morning, but tomorrow night, we’ll celebrate.”
“We don’t have to.” I shake my head. Please, no. “We have... plenty more nights for that.”
“We will, yes, but you will only have one eighteenth birthday.”
My face falls and he brings his glass to his lips. “Our guests will begin arriving at seven, be sure you’re ready.” He turns and walks away.
And I’m left standing in the middle of the room having no fucking clue where to go from here.
But I know where I won’t be going, and that’s to school tomorrow.
I didn’t sleep more than an hour or two and all the time I sat awake did me no good. I couldn’t form a single thought and staring at myself in the giant mirror across from this ridiculous bed, only seems to fog my mind more.
The girl in the mirror, she was beginning to recognize herself not twenty-four hours ago, but she’s fading to black now.
Suffocating.
Sinking.
This is why I kept my relationships at face value.
I hate the way my body feels, as if it’s tied to a tower, suspended so high that the air’s too dense to breathe, the clouds too countless to find my way through, the harsh wind a cool slap in the face.
There is no escape, this house is my tower, and the hand that sweeps across my skin is my own, a desperate attempt to hold on to the girl within, whoever the hell she is.
The perfect daughter?
The playful paramour?
The desolate doll.
I need to get out of here.
I need to see Ransom.
As if my mother has not only the power to dictate my life but the ability to read my thoughts, her curt tone breaks through, pulling me from my mind and placing herself inside it.
I turn toward the door, knowing she’ll be headed for it soon enough, so while I have a second, I call Cali to see if she heard anything about Jules. She shares she’s awake and in recovery, but nothing else has changed. We still can’t see or talk to her.
“I’m staying home, I don’t want to deal with the questions from people who pretend to care.” She yawns into the line.
I nod, my eyes trailing over the massive grandfather clock on the wall opposite of the foreign bed I’m sitting in. “Yeah, I’m not going either.”
“It will mean a lot to her to know that you’re checking on her,” she shares.
I grip my phone tighter, pulling at the small thread hanging from the hem of my leggings. “Have I been that shitty lately?”
“Not shitty, but you did drop us pretty fast. At least we know why now, though.”
When I don’t say anything, she quietly adds, “You know we don’t care, right? About you and, you know, those guys.”