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Mr. Moustache glances over his shoulder, annoyance etched into his expression as if I were a wayward child. He spins on his heel before his fist slams on the table. Looming over my much smaller frame, the anger on his face says it—I’m lucky to even get this option.
“Your name, your public persona, has been splashed all over the front pages of every newspaper in the city. Spoilt brats should be put in a jail cell,” he sneers. I can’t deny he’s right. I am spoiled. I am a brat. But I don’t respond to him; instead, I lower my head in guilt and try to keep the burning tears at bay.
The agony lodged in my throat chokes me, just like the salty emotion that stings my eyes. I’ve been taught to keep my pain in check, instead plastering a cool, aloof expression in place.
“I thought so,” he utters before he pushes to full height, and I can’t stop the shiver from taking hold of my body.
At first, I thought he seemed cool, as if he were trying to be nice, but right now, anger overrides all my thoughts, and I notice how he looks at me, as if I’m lucky. And I am. There’s no doubt about it.
My lashes are heavy, and if I blink, the tears will fall. In my mind’s eye, I see my dad. The man who was always there for me, no matter what. And I know he’ll no longer be there to bail me out of shit. My mother is the ice queen. The heartless, emotionless bitch. But Dad, he was my hero, the one who would love me unconditionally. He’s gone. The realization slams into me like a freight train, and my breath is stolen for a long moment.
All the love, the security, everything is gone. The fact that he’s no longer here to bail me out of trouble has my stomach flipping over, a reminder that I’m actually alone. I can’t depend on my mother. She’s never wanted me.
I was Daddy’s princess.
But with this shitshow I’ve gotten myself into, I’ve disappointed him. He can’t see it. I know he would only shake his head with sadness. My lips tremble, and even though I fight the tears, one lone salty path of pain trickles down my cheek when I realize just how broken I truly am.
“Listen to me, Ms. Davenport. Being angry is fine, so is being sad, or heartbroken,” Detective Moustache tells me when I don’t respond. “But making a mess of your life is not the way to do it. So, what would you like to do?”
I can’t not go to Black Mountain. I’m the mistake my mother doesn’t even want to raise. Before my thirteenth birthday, it was different. She did love me, but it was such a long time ago, at least it feels as if it was. But slowly, I think she came to realize my father loved me more than he did her.
“Ms. Davenport?” The detective cautions again, and I lift my watery gaze to his cool, aloof one. At this point, my only option is to go with my aunt. And if that doesn’t work out, once I’m nineteen, I can book a plane ticket and run as far as possible.
“I’ll go to Black Mountain,” I whisper as the festering guilt and unbearable defeat crush my soul. And it’s clear in my tone as the words tumble from my lips.
He nods, looking pleased with himself for ensuring I made the right choice. But is it? I can’t know that until I’m there. Perhaps a fresh start where nobody knows me is what I need. Being in a brand-new town sounds like the answer, but that’s only if everyone doesn’t find out my secret. If they do, I’ll be fucked once more.
It’s all bullshit.
But I’ll do it.1HERTHE PASTI didn’t realize just how ominous this day was until I stepped off the plane moments ago. Now that I’m in the back seat of the car, I see everything and nothing. The storm clouds overhead remind me that this wasn’t my choice as much as I was forced into it.
I wanted to run.
I wanted to hide.
But I knew this is where I’m meant to be. Not because of the second chance I’m receiving, but because he is here, and I’m going to make him see me. For the first time in a long while, I feel as if my life is going to work out.
But things don’t always go according to plan.
Darkness descends as the car winds its way into the town. It’s eerie out. The moon is hidden by the clouds that hang heavily, threatening rain on the way. And I wish I could stand in the upcoming downpour and bask in the wetness hoping it will wash my sins away.
