Page 27 of Paid With Innocence

And I sure won’t be taking any of the things he bought for me.

I’m just about to go to my room to start packing when my phone buzzes. It’s Trish FaceTiming me back.

My face is tingling. I’m on the verge of tears again, but I have to talk to her. I have to find out what’s going on.

So even though I feel like I’m about to break, I answer.

“Hey, girl!” Trish waves. I open my mouth to speak, but what I see makes me freeze.

Expensive leather, tinted windows, a reclining seat.

Trish is in Orson’s Rolls Royce.

“Look who I ran into downtown!” She turns the phone, and I gasp. There he is, sitting right next to her. He waves casually like everything’s just dandy.

Something inside me splinters.

“Hey, angel. Sorry I didn’t answer your calls. I was in a meeting with—”

I hang up. Tears stream down my face.

My phone buzzes again. It’s Trish calling me back. This time, I do throw my phone across the room. It smashes against the wall, sending glass everywhere. I don’t care if I have to buy an old dumb-phone or a pay-as-you-go plan. Right now, I just have to get out of here.

Where will I go? I don’t know.

How will I make money? No clue.

The one thing I do know is that my heart is broken. The two people who meant most to me in my life betrayed me.

How could I have been so stupid?

8

MEGAN

Frantically, I stuff everything I came here with into the bag I brought home from the store when Orson took me shopping. I grab one of my unfinished paintings from the studio and head downstairs. No idea how I’ll get the rest of them, but if I have to leave them here, then so be it.

I’m nearly hyperventilating as I take the stairs. My heart may be broken, but it’s beating like a drummer on speed.

God, please don’t let me have a heart attack.

I yank the door open and race outside. Without my phone, I can’t call a ride—not that I have the money to pay for one anyway—so I just start walking. I used to love how long and elegant this driveway was, but now I hate it.

Just get me out of here!

It’s kind of chilly, but I’m overheating. It feels like forever before I reach the front gate, and right before I can press the button to let myself out, it starts to swing open. I back up just as Orson’s Rolls pulls up in front of me.

Something painful swirls in my chest. A mixture of emotions that sting like a poison.

I want to see him so badly. But at the same time, I never want to see him again.

Why did you have to show up, Orson? Why?

Without even thinking, I turn around and run back to the house. The Rolls’s engine roars, and the massive car speeds past me and slams to a stop, blocking my path. Orson leaps out and rushes toward me.

“Baby, wait!”

“How could you!?” I sob, dropping my painting. I hear the frame crack on the ground. “She’s my best friend!”