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As promised, the house is full of random people measuring things and walking around with paint samples when I get back. Not wanting to witness any of it, I drag on a pair of sweats and my sneakers and set off out the back of the house and run until my muscles scream at me to stop. But I keep going. Anything to take away from the pain in my chest and the thoughts of what Mia's going to be put through on Friday that I have no way of rescuing her from.
By the time I get back to my room, my shirt is soaked in sweat and my entire body trembles with exertion. I need to calm the fuck down and go eat something. But going to the kitchen means seeing Cade, and if I'm forced to spend too much time with him this week then there's a chance he's going to be forced to go to his precious fucking Coglio with a black eye and a broken nose.
My fists curl at the thought, my knuckles aching in the most delicious way, imagining just how fucking satisfying it'll feel to finally show the cunt how I really feel about him.
Instead of heading down for food, I find myself in Sasha's room once again, chasing a way to force it all out of my head.
With a few little white pills and a bottle of vodka I'd stashed in my closet, I manage to wipe the rest of the day away in a pilled-up daze. If only the rest of the week would disappear quite so easily.
"What the fuck is he planning for tonight?" I ask when Channing pokes his head into my room ten minutes before we're expected downstairs for the king's little fucking pre-ceremony gathering.
"You mean aside from rubbing your face in it?" he asks, proving that every single thing both Cade and Ashton have said to me this week has been meticulously planned so they can piss me off as much as possible. It wouldn't surprise me if they had some kind of wager going on to see who can break me first.
"Yeah, aside from that."
"No fucking clue. I think he just wants to hang." Channing shrugs.
"To hang?” I balk. “When the fuck does he ever want to hang with me? Wait, don't answer that." I shove my feet into my sneakers and drop my cell into my pants pocket. "Lead the way."
Channing leads me to the den, the room where all those weeks ago Cade had me strapped to the chair while he forced me to watch him touch what's mine. Even now the memory makes my blood boil.
Walking inside, I find that everyone—minus Tim and Fawn—are already there. Sadly, that includes Brook, who makes a beeline for me. She thrusts her exposed cleavage at me as Mia watches her every move from the other side of the room.
We haven’t spoken all week, but that's not through lack of trying on her part. I've just been too intent on drowning in darkness instead of dealing with reality. As she stares at me, I can almost feel the d
esperation in her eyes. Guilt tugs at me, but even still, it's not enough to make me go over there. Instead, I lift the bottle of vodka that's hanging from my fingers and tip it to my lips, swallowing down two generous shots.
Sasha winks at me when she passes me, knowing exactly how I'm going to be feeling in a few short minutes thanks to the extra supplies she gave me earlier today.
I know that losing myself isn't the answer, but fuck, it sure hurts less than being sober and knowing exactly what's coming for me.
Tim and Fawn join us not long later, and the eleven of us sit around the room, mostly on the couches, pretending that we're just some normal college kids hanging on a normal Thursday night, but we all know that's not true. We don't need the scent of whatever Cade has once again permeated the air with to tell us that.
"Where the fuck are the girls, man? The only single one here shares my blood," Ashton grumbles.
"Didn't stop you lusting after her when Easton was balls deep inside her?" Cade's evil smirk turns my way as Mia tenses in his hold.
"I might be sick, but I draw the line at fucking her."
I lift my bottle once more, nowhere near as wasted as I need to be for these kinds of conversations.
"What about Mia? You wanna share her before you make her yours? It's hardly fair that only Easton has had a pop."
My teeth grind at his suggestion.
"Keep your fucking hands off what's mine," Cade growls at Ashton. "That was a one-off, right, Easton?" he asks me.
I don't react, and it makes his jaw clench.
"He knows what'll happen if I find out he's touched her again." His grip on Mia's hip tightens as my stomach turns over.
Mia keeps her eyes on the floor, not wanting to give anything away about the two of us. But if Cade's proved anything over the past few weeks, it's that he knows exactly what's going on under his nose, so I wouldn't be surprised that he's already aware that nothing's changed between the two of us.
"Hell yes," Brook shrieks, her voice like nails across a chalkboard, as the song changes. "Turn it up, let's dance."
It seems that either Sasha is so wasted that she doesn't care or that the stepsisters have called a temporary truce, because the pair of them climb up on the coffee table and start grinding away to the beat.
"Shake that ass, Sis," Ash says, resting back on the couch, enjoying the view.
