It took me forty minutes to make it home. My bare feet were blistered and blackened from the asphalt. Just another way that I was stained with their wrath. Exhausted, tired, and covered in sweat, I pulled myself up the steps to our sprawling colonial and nearly cried at the feel of carpet beneath my toes.
I made my way upstairs to my room, leaving black footprints behind me. Our maid would probably punish me for that by filling my bathroom with one-ply toilet paper for the next month.
Once in my room, I yanked off the tight, sweaty clothing, leaving them in the trash bin as I passed by. In my ensuite bathroom, I turned the dial on the shower to cold and hauled myself inside.
The icy water felt good against my fevered skin, and I closed my eyes, bracing my hands against the tile. The problem was, every time my eyes were shut, all I could see was them. Rogue kissing me. Luis's smirk. Godfrey’s calculating gaze, and the flash of uncertainty in Bonham’s eyes.
“Stop it,” I told myself, hitting my head against the tile. “Stop it.”
They weren’t saving me from anything. They weren’t my friends. The guy that they’d killed had nothing to do with me. They thought I was pathetic. I had to stop this constant hoping, or it was going to be the death of me.
I forced my eyes open, focusing on the dark gray veins in the marble tile. “I am nothing to them,” I reminded myself. “And they are nothing to me.”
I made myself say it a hundred more times.
Funny, I almost convinced myself that I meant it.
Chapter Fifteen
“Scarlett! Answer the door!”
My mama’s voice jolted me awake. I sat up, slightly discombobulated. I looked around my room, wondering why I was sleeping in the middle of the day and why my feet hurt. But then it all came crashing back down into my memory, and I cringed.
When my mama yelled again, I threw the covers off myself. I was still naked from the shower, too tired afterward to get dressed.
I yanked on a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top, my hair feeling like a total rat’s nest, and yanked open my door. I could hear Mama talking to her masseuse in the other room. Heaven forbid she get off her pampered ass to get the door.
I took the stairs two at a time, hoping that whoever it was would leave quickly so I could go back to sleep again. I wasn’t ready to face reality. If I could have my way, I’d prefer to just sleep all the way until Monday and then get on the plane, leaving behind Savannah, Georgia for good.
But when I opened the door, I already knew that wasn’t going to be the case.
“What do you want?”
Bonham smirked. “Is that any way to greet me?”
“Nope. But this is.” I started to slam the door in his face, but he was too quick for me, and he caught it in his grip.
“Now, now Miss Livingston. That’s not very ladylike of you. What would your mama say?”
“Bonham Brodie? Is that you?”
I turned to see my mama walking down the stairs, her male masseuse trailing after her. Based on the flush of her cheeks, it was obvious that she’d had a happy ending.
Bonham stepped aside for the masseuse to pass, and then flashed my mama his golden boy grin and offered his hand as he stepped inside the house and shut the door smoothly behind him. “Ma’am. You look ravishing as usual.”
My mama was dressed in a silk wrap dress that accentuated her assets. She gave Bonham a smile and placed her hand in his. “Oh, stop,” she laughed as he kissed her knuckles. “What brings you here?”
“Well, ma’am, I was just telling your daughter here the good news.”
I felt my mama look at me curiously, but my eyes were narrowed on him.
“Oh? And what’s that?” she asked.
Bonham reached into his back pocket and pulled out an envelope. I didn’t take it right away, and my mama laughed uncomfortably. “Scarlett. Where are your manners? Take the envelope.”
Bonham’s eyes danced with mirth.
I snatched the envelope from him and tore it open. Inside was the kind of paper that only rich assholes use. Thick, embossed, and signed at the bottom with real ink, my brown eyes flew over the paper, and the blood drained from my face.
“Well? What is it?” my mama said, growing impatient.
She didn’t wait for me to answer, but when my arms started to drop, she swooped in and grabbed the paper to read it for herself.
Junior Debutante League.
Cotillion classes, dancing classes, help put on the debutante ball.
Her eyes widened, and she looked at Bonham. “You’re inviting Scarlett to be a Junior Debutante? But...only the best families get invited.”
Bonham’s grin widened. “Yes, ma’am. My mama organizes it, you know. I just knew Scarlett here was the perfect candidate. She’s always been so charming. She’ll need to start her cotillion classes immediately, since the season’s already started. That’s why I came to deliver the letter myself.”
I could feel my mama’s stare boring into the back of my head, and my face heated. Bonham had me right where he wanted me. With a single letter, he made it so my mama would cave, making me stay here. “Of course, I know it’s customary for the debutante to ask her date, but Rogue Kelly expressed interest in being her date to the event.”
At that, my mama’s eyes flashed a bright shade. She was practically glowing at the opportunity to climb the social ladder, but I was still frozen to the spot. Rogue wanted to accompany me? Was this some sort of trick? An added layer to the manipulation? They were taunting me with something my mama wanted for me, but I knew it was just another game. Rogue would rather stab himself in the eye with a spork than attend something so public with me.
“Oh,” Bonham said, fake disappointment crossing his features. “I just realized, you’re leaving on Monday.”
I barely contained an eye roll.
My mama quickly perked up. “Oh, the boarding school called. They filled her spot, it seems. We’re on the waiting list for a while, so her overseas trip has been postponed.” Her words were rushed out, like she couldn’t spit the lie out fast enough. As expected, Bonham’s face twisted into a satisfied grin. He had my mama right where he wanted her.
“Well, that’s a relief. These invitations are very exclusive. I know lots of local girls dying to get their hands on them.”
I cringed. All the girls that would be in attendance were Heir Chasers. Debutante balls were all about showing off. It was about etiquette, yes, but it was also about presenting your pristine breeding for the world to see and selling your daughter to whatever trophy-wife-seeking schmuck had the thickest wallet.
Stephanie would be there, as well as her group of ladder climbing trolls. They’d spend the entire time talking about what they’d wear and what they’d do when it was their time to be debutantes once we were in college. It would be all about what they were wearing, who they were blowing, and what wealthy last name they were going to latch onto.
“No,” I said with a determined shake of my head. Bonham’s confident grin faltered.
“No?” Mama asked in disbelief. “What do you mean, no?” She was moments from grabbing my shoulders and shaking me, but I held my ground. I wasn’t going to do this. I wasn’t going to play their manipulative games. I was done.