Page 140 of The Beginning Of Us


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“No.” The word spills from my lips before I can overthink it.

“Excuse me? What did you just say?” he asks, his voice eerily quiet.

“I said…no. I will not be going to Yale.” My back straightens and I try to hide the trembling in my body. “I’m going to Harvard. I’ve already accepted their offer. This is where I want to pursue my post-secondary education.”

I don’t see it coming, although I should have. My father lurches forward, backhanding me across the face. The force of his slap sends me back two steps and my cheek throbs with pain.

“I should have known that Lila girl would influence you,” he spits out.

“This has nothing to do with her!” I squeak defensively, holding a hand over my bruised cheek. My father doesn’t particularly like my best friend, simply because her family name is not useful to him. Lila doesn’t belong to an upper-class family. To my father, she is a nobody. Just a silly, bold girl, who’s attending Berkshire Academy of Weston.

An ambitious girl who doesn’t belong with us, and who will not last long in our world. The world of the rich and corrupted. But he’s wrong.

Because Lila Garcia has the strongest ally — Maddox Coulter.

My father jerks toward me, his hand reaching out to grip my arm. He gives me a hard shake, my neck snapping backward with the sudden force. “Don’t piss me off, Riley,” he warns, his voice low and full of silent threats.

“Y-you’re hurting me.”

His fingers tighten around my bicep, and I flinch when his nails dig in. “I’ve given you a lavish lifestyle, I’ve given you everything you need, Riley…Now is not the time to act like a stupid, spoiled brat. You will be going to Yale and that’s final.”

The issue here is not the choice of schools. Both Yale and Harvard are great. I think my father would have wanted me to go to Harvard if it wasn’t for the fact that he knows I prefer it more than Yale. He knows this is my choice, and he doesn’t want me to have it.

My father’s problem is that…he wants complete control of my life. If I don’t have the freedom to make my own choices, then I can’t break free from the ironclad hold he has on me. This house is his dominion. He is judge and jury. I am to do exactly as he says and not question his authority.

He wants me to go to Yale because he’s on the board of trustees for the university. My father attended Yale himself, and before him, my grandfather served as a senior trustee on the board. My great-grandfather too. He wants to continue the Johnson’s family legacy.

And I simply want to break free from it.

“No, she won’t.”

Lila’s voice shocks me to my core and my head snaps toward the entrance. She’s standing there, her phone in her hand. Recording.

Oh God. No!

What is she doing?

Lila takes a step forward, her lips twisting with disdain as her eyes sweep over my father’s tall frame and his harsh grip on my arm. “She won’t be going to Yale, because she’s attending Harvard.”

My father releases me, roughly. I stumble back, my pulse beating in my throat. Cold spider-like fingers race up and down my spine and my flesh crawls with apprehension.

When she is close enough, Lila tosses her phone toward my father and he easily grabs it in mid-air. “Look through the photo gallery,” she says coldly.

His expression changes from furious to shock and then…the color slowly drains from his face before my father quickly hides it. A cold mask, the perfect exterior of self-assurance slams over his expression. His dark, calculated gaze lands on Lila as he hands me the phone.

I recognize that look on his face. He’s judging her, trying to search for a vulnerability to weaken Lila’s resolve. Looking down at the phone, I find photos of me on the screen. Sleeping or too preoccupied with something else to notice Lila secretly snapping these pictures. And in all of them, my bruises are visible and a stark contrast against my pale skin.

Bruises my father has left on me during his violent rage.

Bruises I have kept hidden under my clothes or tried to hide with makeup.

“I’ve been documenting your abusive behavior toward your daughter for the last year and a half,” Lila elaborates, nudging her chin up as she speaks to my father. Her voice is strong, without even a hitch in it. She doesn’t fear him and she doesn’t lower her eyes either. “I knew it would come in handy one day.”

A gasp spills from my lips.

She’s utterly insane. Lila has no idea the calamity she’s bringing upon herself by going against my father in such a reckless way. She can’t be thinking straight right now.

But Lila Garcia is dauntless.

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