Page 102 of False Promises

My eyes traveled between all of them, my stepdad standing as far away from me as possible.

“Hey baby,” my mother said as she closed the gap between us.

“What’s going on?” My attention drifted to my dad. “Daddy, why are you here?”

My father walked forward, his hands stuffed in his pockets, face worried. Wrinkles around his eyes and hair disheveled, his shoulders slouched forward in defeat.

“Baby, we gotta talk,” he said. “The little stunt you just pulled, it’s not okay. Jerry is a good man. He loves both you and your mother. Why would you do this to him? Why would you try to trap him in a scandal? What’s going on with you?”

Wait… How did my parents know what happened? Had I been set up? Were they standing outside the house the entire time? It was Jerry. He did it. He wanted to humiliate me further. He wouldn’t get away with this. The stakes just got higher. I hated him. Why did I ever think he was hot? He was a dead man. I’d make sure of it.

With a forced smile pasted to my lips, I pushed back as my dad moved closer.

“Daddy, Jerry tried to seduce me. It all went down so fast. He tried to kiss me and forced himself on me. He made me promises. And said I couldn’t tell anyone about our little secret. You’re lucky I’m smart enough and didn’t go through with it. Who knew what could have happened? I’m so happy you’re here. Both of you,” I said, my eyes traveling from my dad to my mom, tears shining in the corners for a greater dramatic effect. “As I said, you might have saved my life.”

My mom caressed my hair. “Baby, you’re sick. You need help. We’ve been trying to manage it on our own for years, but it’s getting too much. You need professional help before you get yourself into a situation you can’t get out of.”

I shook my head. “I’m not sick. Jerry seduced me. He tried to kiss me. I pushed him back. Mom, your boyfriend is a child molester. Don’t you see it? He’s the one who’s sick.”

My words—a mix of shrieks and sobs—exited my mouth as anger rose inside me, burning down everything in its wake.

“Baby,” my mom said, her voice low and comforting. “We installed cameras all over the house months ago. With all the stealing, lying, and manipulation, we had a feeling you might try something like this.”

I sucked in a shaky breath.

“Your dad will pack your stuff. You’re coming with us. There’s this center for young ladies just like you. They can help you. You’ll have access to the best mental health professionals.”

Tears rolled down my cheeks, and my mother wiped them off with a tissue. My parents were turning their backs on me. They were pushing me out of their perfect lives.

“Daddy, please say something. I’m not sick. I’m smart and driven. And I do well in school. It was a mistake—”

“You did the same thing to your math teacher last semester,” he interrupted, not affected by my tears this time. Since when had my dad stopped getting taken in by one of my acts? They had always worked. Every time in the past. “And your gym teacher last semester said you stripped off your clothes in front of him once and propositioned him in his office a week later.”

Daddy was my rock. He wouldn’t turn his back on me. I wouldn’t allow it. He used to call me his princess when I was a little girl.

“Please, Daddy. I want to come to live with you full-time. Far away from creeps like Jerry.”

“Savannah, you need help.” The resignation on my dad’s face messed up my heart. And I hated the feeling.

“No, I don’t. And I hate you. All of you,” I screamed, now feeling ridiculous in my miniskirt. I rushed to my room and slammed the door behind me. My parents might have won this round, but never again would I get caught. I was good. I was bright. A whole lot smarter than most people my age.

After I brushed my tears off, I rolled my shoulders back, packed my own bag, and made it downstairs. They wouldn’t win. I was better. And wiser. Time to show them I could master this game.

My parents and Jerry stood at the kitchen island, talking in hushed voices.

They were now dead to me. I didn’t need them in my life. One day, they’d pay for what they did to me.

As I neared them, I pasted a beatific smile on my face, and using my most charming voice, I said, “Listen, I’m sorry for what I did. You’re right. I need help. I’ll get better, you’ll see.”

I changed my mind. I wouldn’t be a banker like my dad one day.

I’d be an actress.

And I’d be the best one.

* * *

I sipped on my wine, years later, my eyes trained on the crowd. Contrary to my belief, New York City weather was not that bad at this time of the year. Warm enough I could wear a tight dress, showcasing my perfect curves without having to hide under a jacket. Someone earlier had mentioned influential people would be here tonight. So, I refused to get drunk and make a fool of myself. I had big dreams. Ambitions to fulfill. And one of them included getting a handsome, wealthy, and famous hunk to propel me to the stardom I craved to be a part of for so long.