Everything is ruined.
This was supposed to be the night. I should not be in the backseat of a car with my father on my way home from the fucking police station. I should be lying in a big fluffy bed, belly full of room service desserts, with a sleeping Kolson next to me as I text my friends that Ifinallydid it.
Instead, I didn’t even see Kol, both of my friends completely disappeared, and I was almost a statistic at a party I didn’t even want to fucking go to.
Sometimes, I feel like I’m destroying myself pretending to be who everyone expects me to be.
I try the breathing method I’ve been doing since I was twelve. Inhale for four seconds, hold for another four, then exhale for four seconds.
After a few repetitions, the stagnant air feels a little less suffocating.
I send a quick text to everyone, checking they made it home safely. Tori responds immediately with a selfie of her in a bubble bath. Her fiery red hair is in a loose knot on top of her head.
Tori
guess whose bathtub this is ;)
I have no idea whose tub it is, but I’m envious. I can’t wait to take a hot shower and scrub this terrible night off of my skin.
Mia replies with a selfie too, but unlike Tori, she’s already in bed, her light green eyes peeking out beneath an eye mask that saysFuck Offin an elegant cursive font.
Kolson reads my text, but he doesn’t respond. His silence tells me everything I already knew deep down. I’m nothing to him.
After what feels like the longest night of my life, the car finally pulls onto the long tree-lined driveway. As soon as the driver shifts into park, I dart out of the car, ignoring my heavy limbs and the sharp pain permeating my skull.
Hoping I’ve evaded my father’s lecture, I start the climb up the grand staircase, fully intending to go straight to my bedroom and shut out the rest of the world.
But I’m stopped dead in my tracks by Warren’s lawful and cold tone.
“Meet me in the study.Now.”
I squeeze my eyes closed and take a deep breath. Looking up, I send a silent prayer to whoever is listening, and then pivot on the stairs heading back down toward the study.
He’s already sitting behind the colossal mahogany desk with a glass of bourbon in his right hand.It’s always bourbon. The smell hits me and I’m instantly nauseous.
I’ve never liked coming in here. The scent of old books and my father’s aftershave hangs in the air. The walls are covered with dark built-in bookcases that stretch floor-to-ceiling. They’re mostly filled with law books, but there’s a sprinkle of first-edition classics that once belonged to my mom.
This room feels like it could swallow me whole, never to be seen again.
Warren glances at me over the rim of his reading glasses and gestures for me to take a seat. I sink into the stiff leather chair, seeking to make myself as small as possible.
As if that would make him show me a little mercy.
Unfortunately for me and every prosecutor in the state of California, mercy is not in his vocabulary.
Before I even open my mouth, his fist slams down onto his desk, and I can’t help but flinch. I should’ve known his behavior at the station was all an act. Playing the role of dutiful dad. He’s never hit me, but I think he’s wanted to.
Perception is everything.
My eyes stay locked on the wool rug, refusing to look at him. I press my lips together and wince when the small cut splits open again. My fingertips drift up, tracing over the mark Gideon left behind.
Silence stretches between us for too long to ever be considered comfortable, then he finally speaks.
“Do you understand the gravity of tonight’s events, Sadie?” His tone is serious and demanding.
I force myself to look up at him. His eyes are narrowed, but they still manage to pierce through me. There’s an edge to his words, like he’s only referring to how this all affectshim. His firm. His reputation.
My words are caught in my throat, but I’ve learned the hard way not responding only makes things worse.
