“I can’t bear to look at you right now.”
He’d muttered the words so softly when he’d walked into the bathroom where I’d been puking. Rather than provide comfort like he’d done endless times before whenever I was sick, he stared at me with cold disgust before walking out on me. I’d felt the dismissal like a blade to the throat.
He was done with me.
He didn’t even have to say the words. I felt them. I hadn’t just disappointed him; I’d betrayed him in the worst possible way. It was unforgivable.
I somehow manage to make it through baggage claim and out of the building where a few cars are lined up waiting on arrivals. At the front of the line, a black SUV waits, hot exhaust fumes clouding the air behind it. The shiver that works down my spine is less to do with the cool weather and the fact I’m willingly going to Colin.
My real father.
Terror claws at me, but I push it down as I force one step at a time toward the waiting vehicle. Early this morning, after the blowup and the words Dad spoke after, I knew what to do. I needed to leave. With a heavy heart filled with regret, I called Colin.
I’m not sure what I expected, but his concern and take-charge attitude weren’t it. Before I knew it, he had a plane booked and a driver waiting to take me to the airport. I was too much of a pussy to say goodbye to Canyon. I knew if I saw him again, I’d be unable to leave. Luckily, he was in his room with the door shut, so I packed my bags, left a note, and escaped without confrontation.
Now that I’m finally here, though, I’m sick with apprehension.
I don’t want to be here.
But Dad doesn’t want me with him. This is my only option.
When I reach the SUV, a man dressed all in black, probably twenty-five or so, steps out. His features are rugged and handsome, but he has a cold glint in his green eyes that makes me nervous.
“Greer.” He nods at me. “You must be the boss man’s kid.”
I bristle at the reminder but manage a mutter of acknowledgment. “Is Colin not here?”
“Get in,” Greer says, ignoring my question as he grabs for my luggage. “I missed getting my dick sucked for this. Unless you plan on doing me the favor, let’s get back so I can resume my previous activities before I was summoned to play chauffeur.”
Heat floods my cheeks. I know he’s just being crass to get a rise out of me. He seems the type. It’s just a reminder of the world I’ve stepped into—one I’m wholly unprepared for. Hurrying around the vehicle, I hop in the front seat, expecting to see a car full of goons. Just one goon, and he’s tossing my luggage into the back like it personally wronged him. I yank on my seat belt and clasp my fingers together to calm my nerves.
Greer climbs into the vehicle and slams the door shut. He fumbles at the radio until he finds a hard rock song. The bass blares through the speakers, making my ears practically bleed. I inwardly cringe, slightly turning away from him so I can stare at the city passing by. It’s a blur of lights, and I doze off a couple of times until he pulls the SUV into a driveway.
The home is just outside of downtown St. Louis in an older but renovated neighborhood. A neat, immaculate yard can be seen in the moonlight, and an iron gate surrounds the property. The house itself appears to be three-story. Greer shuts off the engine, parking behind another black SUV. It makes me think about my white Range Rover and how it would stand out amongst their vehicles.
A painful punch of sadness knocks the breath out of me. Not because I’ll miss my car, but because I’ll miss them. My dad and Canyon. Track and sculpting and violin. My life in Florida.
Greer helps me with my luggage and lets us into the dark house. My nerves are buzzing with worry as I catalog each and every sound. It’s quiet aside from our soft thudding footsteps. He guides me through the home and up two flights of stairs to the third floor. We pass an open doorway, and a man, scantily clad in a pair of glittery shorts that reveal everything, peeks his head out. Claw marks and bruises litter his chest and neck. Eyeliner is smeared over one eye, and his eyes are dilated. He drinks up my appearance with a hungry stare that makes me shudder.
“Yummy,” he says to Greer. “Did you bring me a present?”
“Boss’s son.”
The guy cringes and disappears back into the room. I follow Greer into the next room, which is decorated much like mine at home. Simple and nice. I’d expected my room back from my old trailer with Mom, not such a well-decorated space. Greer drops my bags by the dresser and gestures at the bed.
“I’m hitting the sack. Kace owes me a blowjob.” Greer pushes past me and then exits my room without another word.
My room.
I shut the door behind him and quickly unpack. By the time my bags are empty and stowed away in the closet, I feel like puking again. My phone is turned off, and I dread turning it back on. I don’t know what’s worse: hearing the worry from Dad or not hearing anything at all.
And Canyon?
I can only imagine the hurt he’ll feel at my leaving.
He’ll feel abandoned.
It’s exactly what I did. I left him. Disappeared without a word. Disgust at myself threatens to make me sick again. I strip out of my travel clothes, take a quick shower, and climb into the big, soft bed. I turn off the lamp and barely drift off when I hear it.
Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.
Panic swells up inside me like a tidal wave, making my heart hammer in my chest. I fumble at the lamp, wildly searching for the mice.
Where are they hiding?
Can they make it up here?
I hear the squeaking again, but this time it’s accompanied by moaning. It takes half a second to realize it’s Kace and Greer fucking.
It’s a relief not to be mice, but annoyance quickly chases it away. What am I doing here? I don’t know these people, and I certainly don’t want this life.
Unfortunately, I don’t have a choice.
I leave the light on but go to sleep, eager to leave reality, even if only for a few short hours.
By the time I power up my phone the next morning, I discover I’ve missed a ton of texts and phone calls from just about everyone I know. I don’t read any of them, even though I’m dying to devour every word Canyon sent. The last message from him, though, I do read.
Canny: I know you’re at Colin’s. WTF Wonderland?
The room blurs with unshed tears. I blink them back quickly and manage a quick reply.
Me: I’m sorry. I’m safe. You don’t have to worry.
His response is immediate.
Canny: Fuck you. FUCK YOU for doing this.
I don’t have to see his face or hear his voice to feel the heartbreak I’ve caused him. I know exactly what he’s going through because my own heart is in tatters. I shoot him another apology before shutting off my phone again. A soft rap on the door startles me, and someone enters.
Colin.
He’s dressed in an immaculate suit, not a dark hair out of place. I’m not sure what to expect, but I certainly don’t anticipate his smile or for him to sit down on the bed. It reminds me of my dad, and that hurts too much to consider. Looking away, I try to keep a fresh wave of tears from escaping.
“Want to talk about it?”
I shrug. “What’s there to talk about?”
“For one, what was the catalyst for you coming here?”