“Out.”
The word was spoken at the same, even tone, but it carried weight. I heard the others instantly retreat, their footsteps fading away from us. I couldn’t see anything but Rogue, though. He blocked out everything else from view, just the way he preferred.
When we were alone, he tilted my head back, making me feel even more vulnerable. “You fuck him?”
“What do you think?” I retorted.
He leaned in slowly, until his mouth almost pressed against my ear. “I think that if he so much as touched you, I’ll fucking kill him.”
With that, Rogue dropped his hand from my neck, making me stagger on my feet before I could catch myself.
“Don’t you dare threaten him,” I said, stepping back into his space. I didn’t care that I was a good head shorter and a hundred pounds lighter than him. I wouldn’t stand for Clay being hurt.
“I don’t make threats, Scar. I’m telling you what’s gonna happen.”
“Why do you care?” I asked with exasperation, flinging my arms out. “You threw me away!”
“Exactly. And no one else gets to pick you back up.”
I stared at him incredulously. “You are so fucked in the head.”
He shrugged unapologetically. “Get upstairs in the guest room and stay there. You aren’t allowed to leave until I say. Try to defy me, and you won’t like what happens.”
Without another word, Rogue turned on his heel and strode away.
Chapter Fourteen
I paced the floors like a maniac, shuffling my feet against the plush carpet of the guest room that Rogue Kelly locked me in. I mulled over all of the things that had happened over the past couple of days, clenching the reality of my situation in my fist and then pulling at my hair when I realized just how fucked I was.
And then I grabbed a pillow, shoved it over my face, and screamed.
I pushed all of the shit that I’d been bottling up in my chest past my vocal chords, and belted out my frustrations. I screamed until my throat hurt. I screamed for the months of abuse, neglect, and torture. I screamed because at the end of it all, I still wanted them.
A knock on the door drug me out of my self pity, and I cringed when I realized I had an audience for my unhinged episode. I tossed the pillow down before turning to face the person who’d entered my prison.
Okay, now I was being melodramatic.
“Sounds like you could use some hot tea,” Bonham said while walking inside the room. He was carrying a tray, looking all domestic as he eyed me suspiciously.
“Did you drug it?” I asked. Maybe he was sent up here to put me to sleep. I hated how distrusting I was of them.
“You do look like you could use some sleep,” Bonham said with a shrug, not even denying the possibility of something being slipped in my drink.
I sat on the plush bed, balling my fists in my lap while trying to calm my pounding heart. “They would send the nice guy to interrogate me,” I said while rolling my eyes.
“You think I’m the nice guy?” he asked with clear distaste.
Bonham hated that label. I think in some ways, he wanted to be considered just as fierce as Rogue.
“Not all the time,” I replied, not really sure why I felt the need to soften the blow to his perceived ego.
He set the tray down on my nightstand and ran a hand through his blond hair, eyeing my crop top and tight pants with appreciation. “I’ve convinced Rogue to let you go, but we needed collateral that you aren’t going to say shit,” Bonham began.
My stomach dropped. “What kind of collateral?”
“The kind that brings you down with us.” Bonham took out his phone and started swiping through the photos, pausing when he got to the one he wanted. “This photo is on an encrypted server. If you should try to out us, we’ll bring you down, too.”
He turned the screen so that I could see, and I gasped once I saw what was there. It was me, at the lake with them. I was in Rogue’s bloody t-shirt, and the angle made it look like I was helping them toss the body into the water. I looked rough and angry. One look at that photo, and I’d be thrown in prison.
“It’s a good shot, right? Guess it’s a good thing that Godfrey likes souvenirs.”
“I hate you guys,” I finally whispered while trying to think of an ending that didn’t result in me going to prison. I was an accomplice, now. There was no going back.
“That’s the point, Scar,” Bonham said before reaching over to hand me a delicate tea cup. It was made the way I’d always liked it. Milk and honey. I almost reached for it, but then something about his phrasing made me pause.
“What do you mean ‘that’s the point?’ ” I asked, making Bonham’s perfect face twist into a split second of fear. “You know...that guy last night was talking about me. Is something else going on?” I asked, and I hated how easily hope bled into my words.
Bonham pressed his hand over my mouth, holding it tightly against my lips. “Stop,” he ordered, before looking around the room. “Just stop. Please.” For a moment, I saw a glimpse of the friend he once was. But then it was gone just as quickly, and I was sure I’d imagined it.
I shook my head, glaring at him before biting his finger. He yelped in shock and then grabbed my shoulders and pushed me down into the mattress with his body. “You infuriate me. Stop having so much faith in us,” Bonham growled angrily. “Stop trying to see the good. Because you’ll just be disappointed. You want to know why we started hating you?”
Yes. That was all I wanted. I was afraid to answer, because if he knew just how much I craved clarity, he might not give it to me.
“We hate you because we finally started seeing you for who you really are. You were a proud little bitch, thinking you had us wrapped around your finger. You got cocky. You thought you’d have us forever, and we realized that you were just like every other Heir Chaser in this town. Desperate and pathetic.”
Those words were the very worst thing he could have ever said. I never wanted to be like the girls that chased them down. They were like my mama—opportunists who were addicted to power and influence. Those girls used them. And yeah, they used them right back, but it didn’t make it right.
Bonham held me down even tighter, and when I squeezed my eyes shut to avoid his angry glare, all I saw was that clear photo they got of me, helping them put mystery man at the bottom of a lake.
Fuck. He was right. I really was pathetic and desperate. I was willing to let murderers free for a chance to return to their good graces. I was no better than the Stephanie Palmisano’s of the world.
“Now get the fuck out of here. Don’t say a goddamn word, or you’ll end up going down with us. There were only five witnesses, Babe. And we’ll tell the world that for one night, you were an Heir.”
Bonham got up, adjusted his jeans, and then walked out the door. I guess tea time was over.
I pushed myself off the bed and was out the door and down the stairs before anyone could stop me. Of course Rogue would keep me hostage here until they had the perfect leverage to hold over me. Now that I knew that photograph existed, they were safe. But would I really have ever spoken up anyway? No, probably not.
Once I was out the front door, I didn’t stop or wait. I couldn’t call my driver, anyway. I’d forgotten my phone at Clay’s house during Rogue’s Mr. Kool Aid appearance. I made my way down the driveway, past a row of hundred thousand dollar vehicles. I wasn’t going to ask for a ride from any of those assholes. They wouldn’t give me one, anyway.