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“Yeah,” I interrupted, cutting him off. “So you’ve said. But since I can’t believe anything else you’ve told me, forgive me if I can’t believe that, either.”
Russell stepped back, a hurt look on his face. “Look, I’ve apologized over and over again. I defended you in there. I don’t know what else you want.”
“I don’t want anything from you!” I snapped. “I just want to go. I’m pretty sure you’ve done enough.”
“Okay,” Russell said, his voice rising. “Sure. I mean, all I did was get us out of a situation where we could be in jail right now. I just got us out of Jesse and back to Vegas. So you’re welcome for all that.”
“You didn’t do anything!” I yelled. “You just called your dad, and he did all of this. Don’t pretend—”
“Would you prefer I hadn’t?” Our voices were coming out raw and angry, overlapping, like we were throwing daggers at each other, pretending we didn’t hurt where they connected. “Did you want to be in jail somewhere in Nevada right now? Just so you can prove some kind of point?”
I glared at him; the logic was making me even angrier. “No.”
“And I wasn’t going to bring it up, but—” He stopped himself a second later, and looked down at the paving stones.
“But what?”
“The pool was your idea!” he said, all in a rush. “You were the one who suggested breaking into it. You were the one who wanted to swim—”
“So this is my fault?”
“Oh, did I not make that clear? Of course it is! Who else’s fault would it be, Darcy?”
I swallowed hard, feeling my cheeks flame. “Okay, fine, but you could have said no. You do have some choice in this matter. You didn’t have to go along with it, you know.”
“Well, I did! Because I liked you!”
It was like we both heard the past tense at the same time. And I knew that it shouldn’t have bothered me—I was leaving! I never wanted to see this guy again!—but that didn’t change the fact that it did.
“Well, then I’m sooooo sorry. Clearly, this is all my fault. What was I thinking? And I’m so grateful for your celebrity dad, and his millions of dollars, and his lawyers, coming in to rescue us. Thank you so much.” I spat out the last word.
Russell nodded, folded his arms, and looked away.
I folded my arms too. I was breathing hard, already regretting some of the things I’d said.
“Right,” he finally said, his tone cool. “Sure.”
“I just want to go home.”
“So what’s stopping you?” It was like Russell was trying to sound tough… but not quite pulling it off.
“Well. My stuff has disappeared. And I don’t know where I am, or how to get out of here.”
“Your things are in the house,” he said, nodding down the path. “And if you want to leave, we can get you a car into Vegas. But you could also stay in one of the guesthouses.”
One of the guesthouses. The phrase seemed to hang in the air between us for a moment, and he must have heard it too, because the tips of his ears turned red and he looked down at the ground.
“That’s not necessary.” I decided I was going to be formal and businesslike and just get through this. It was the same way I’d handled any conversation I’d had to have with Gillian in the run-up to school starting.
“Fine,” Russell said, matching my tone.
“Fine.”
“This way.” He pointed toward the house and started walking down the path. He was striding fast, not slowing down or waiting for me like I knew he would have done earlier tonight. But who cared? I didn’t need for him to wait for me. In fact, the faster we got to the house, the faster I could get out of there.
But as we got closer, I slowed, then stopped short—shock piercing the red fog of my anger.
It wasn’t like I’d never seen nice houses before. We lived in Los Angeles, the land of impressive homes. But I’d never quite seen anything like this.
