Revenge is supposed to feel cleaner than this. She thinks I’m here to ruin her, to expose her, if only it were that simple, if only there weren’t so many balls in play. My own dad doesn’t even know I’m here yet but it’s only a matter of time before the huge faculty event at the observatory where I’ll be forced to show up as his favorite son who took the fall for a crime he didn’t even commit.
The golden child.
The perfect one who studied all through prison, got into Harvard, graduated early. I’m his pride and joy on the outside, but on the inside he hates me thinks he owns me, I think I’m just a really great actor and smarter than he is. He thinks he has me right where he wants me.
It’s the opposite. He’s the pawn now; he’ll know it soon. I just need to get my hands on the ledger so I can hold it over his head, carry out what my mom would have wanted and see justice served.
Easy.
Not.
I can’t afford to get distracted by the past. I’ll use her however I want and try to figure out who’s sending the cryptic notes in the first place. It’s possible he knows both of us are here and he’s trying to shift blame between us. We’ll have to play into it to make him think it’s working. I’ll know more if he reaches out, and I’ll know even more than that if Axel does what Axel does best—talk.
Because fear fades.
Exposure fades.
The truth doesn't.
And one way or another she's going to tell me what really happened, Axel’s going to talk too much and make my dad show a card, or I’ll see him first and force his hand. Or it’s all going to go to hell and my dad isn’t involved and this was all for nothing. Just facing a painful past and more painful confusing memories with a girl who betrayed me. Fun.
Everything is working perfectly, which is why I’m also perfectly thrown off by Axel’s panicked phone call about helping out.
I quickly make my way over to the company I hate, with the dad I hate even more, he rarely visits this one. I walk in and go straight to registration. Axel’s waiting there with a key card in hand, he tosses it at me. “Don’t worry she won’t assume this is crossing the line into stalker territory so soon after a first date. I’ll let her know I called you in for a favor, which I did. It’s just we always have both narrators in for the ending.”
I shrug. “The ending of what?” I frown. “What exactly am I doing and what can I say? I’m smitten with her after a first date, all I want to do is follow her to her workplace.”
“Yes just deliver that same dry line just like that, I’m sure her bra will just come flying off as she declares undying love.” He rolls his eyes.
“Whatever.” I laugh and cross my arms. “I knew her before, it’s fine.”
“Before?” He probes. He’s wearing his typical black face mask, black Nike hat, designer shoes, jeans, and gray hoody. “Before what, like prison?” I shift a bit. “Shit, I know, you hate talking about it, what happened was stupid, but is that how far you go back, for real?” I don’t know if he’s playing dumb or if he really knows all the painful details.
Fuck, before it all, before she ruined me, before she ruined lives, before the lines were crossed, blurred, destroyed, blown to shit. Before. Just. Before. “Yeah, that’s how far we go back, jack ass.”
“I love you. I love you so much it hurts to breathe.” I whispered into her hair.
She yawns and flips over on her side. “What was that? I just woke up.”
“It’s nothing.” You’re everything. “Go back to sleep.” In my arms.
He adjusts his hat so it’s nearly impossible to see his eyes. The guy really doesn’t want people to know his identity, plus he’s good at hiding in plain sight. Me on the other hand? I couldn’t care less. Let them know my dad owns the world; they already know I own two of the art studios. More money isn’t more impressive; it just adds more zeroes. Any idiot knows that. Oh, and more stress, more responsivity, more need to keep up and make it look easy when it’s hard as fuck. I have no false claims that being rich makes things easier, if anything it complicates all of it because you have to make it look effortless or people won’t invest, they won’t give you a chance, they won’t pine for what you have.
It’s work, from the cocktail parties to the meetings. They’re just good at wearing different disguises. “What exactly does she do here?”
And where the hell is she?
“Broooo,” Axels draws it out. “Please don’t get me fired by finding your heart sleeping with her and dropping her, I genuinely like this job.”
I roll my eyes. ”Please, that will never ever happen. I wouldn’t touch her even if you paid me, which you aren’t by the way. The idea of even getting close to her gives me hives. I’d rather?—”
He clears his throat.
I look up.
“No, please, go on.” Lilah says dryly, energy drink in hand, eyes soft, tears fill them. She’s clutching the can like it’s going to help her disappear behind it when it’s too small to do the trick.
I instantly feel like an ass, which pisses me off, because how dare she make me feel bad when she’s the one responsible for all the bad things that happened to me?
