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My eyes widen. “Hal Bailey?”
Sasha nods. “Anyway, when they found out about Hadley, Q went into meltdown about it.”
I frown and she adds, “Female heirs shacking up with male heirs is a big no-no.” Sasha stares off into space, and I can’t help but wonder if it has something to do with the weird tension I’ve picked up on between her and Channing.
“You know,” I say, testing the waters, “now Alex is initium, he’ll be the rightful Rexford heir. Which means Channing will be—"
“Don’t, okay?” She gives me a sad smile. “It isn’t that simple.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Upset me?” She scoffs. “There’s no room for tears in this world, Mia. If you want my advice, wrap your heart in thorns and sharpen your claws, because in a place like Gravestone, it’s a game of survival for girls like us.”
Sasha excuses herself to take a shower, leaving me with my thoughts.
Everything is such a mess. The Electi are lawless in the way that only young men with too much money and power can be. Cade assaulted me last night, spiked my drink and touched me without my consent because everything is a game to him. And me and Bexley… we’re pitted on different teams.
God, Bexley.
I’ve tried not to let my thoughts wander to him since I woke up with a feeling of dread deep in my stomach.
He resisted that half-naked girl. He sat there, stoic and unwavering, as he watched Cade make me come. Not once did he look away. I don’t know whether he knows it, but his resolve gave me strength. It fueled the fire in my stomach.
The fire that still burns.
But I need time to regroup, to figure out what the hell I’m going to do, because if last night proved anything, it’s that Cade is a cruel bastard.
And things are only going to get worse.
I don’t go to classes. After getting a ride back to campus with Sasha, I make my excuses and hurry back to my dorm room.
I need time to think. Time to process everything that’s happened over the last few days.
The guys had already left by the time we surfaced this morning. Someone—I assume it was Brandon or Channing—had texted Sasha to let her know the coast was clear. Whomever it was, I was grateful to them.
Facing Brandon had been mortifying enough, but facing all of them over breakfast… yeah, no thanks.
I spend the day binge-watching The Vampire Diaries, wishing I was more like Rebekah Mikaelson. She wouldn’t stand for Cade’s bullshit, for his demeaning, cruel, chauvinistic ways.
But the bottom line is, I don’t know what to do. My mother sees being Cade’s prosapia as a gift, something to be cherished. She truly believes it’s my birthright. And my father wouldn’t dare to go against Quinctus. They’re too brainwashed by Gravestone’s history and traditions.
No one would believe me if I tried to accuse Cade of assault. He’s Cade freaking Kingsley. Besides, Police Commissioner Walters is Phillip Cargill’s best friend. The police department protects the town’s most sacred secrets.
I’d never really given it much thought, but after my conversation with Sasha, I can’t help but wonder just how corrupt the town’s roots are. What was it that Sasha had said? ‘Gravestone isn’t as small-town as everyone thinks.’
Ugh. I grab a pillow and press it against my face, screaming with frustration. I hate this. I hate Cade and all the secrets and lies and traditions.
The ping of my cell finally makes me leave my soft, feathery sanctuary, and I read the message.
Sasha: Are you okay?
Me: I’m fine, just needed some space.
Sasha: I get that. Do what you need to do but then strap on your big girl panties. The guys are busy tonight, and I’m surplus to requirements if you want to hang?
Me: Maybe. I’ll let you know.
Sasha doesn’t reply. I like that about her. She doesn’t push, but she’s honest in a way girls like Annabel wouldn’t be. I guess that comes from being on the inside.
