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“You’re what?” she asks, her tone heated.
“I won’t do this, Juliet. I don’t care what secrets of mine you hold, I refuse to be blackmailed this way. Whatever choice I make I lose, but at least my loss will be by my own hand, and not yours.”
I’ve caught her completely off guard and, just as I did with hers, she reads my words as complete truth. “You’d really jeopardize everything—your career, your reputation, your precious Maddy?”
I smirk with conviction. “Yes.” Closing the gap between us, I snarl, “I’d rather fuck up my life…than fuck you.” Her mouth hinges open—a sight I’ll forever celebrate.
“Ihateher. She has takeneverythingfrom me,” she maliciously professes a second later.
So I was right. This entire situation has got to do with power, but power over Madison rather than me. I’m just a means to an end. How…interesting.
Juliet’s comment comes back to haunt me. “I’m always second best,” I remember her saying the night of her bogus engagement party. “I’m never good enough for anyone, and I’m sick of being runner-up. I’m especially sick of being runner-up toher.”
What did Maddy ever do to her?
Hunter’s words suddenly come to mind. I could offer her therapy, putting an end to this nightmare. But what will I lose in the process? A piece of my soul, no doubt.
I need to get out of here.
Slipping my shades back on, I turn to leave.
“I’ll tell her everything.”
Juliet’s desperation is apparent, but quite frankly, I’m done caring. She can go to hell. “Not if I tell her first.”
“What’s wrong with it?” I ask, tugging at the short hem of my black dress.
Mary kicks her legs in the air as she flips throughCosmo. Glancing up briefly, she shrugs. “You look like you should be charging by the hour.”
“Lamb!” I almost choke on her honesty.
“What? You asked.” She continues flipping through the magazine, not at all bothered that her mouth filter is nonexistent today.
Turning toward my cupboard, I sigh at what’s left standing, or hanging. The selection is measly and doesn’t scream “devour me,” which is what I want.
For the past two weeks, Dixon hasn’t been himself. Although I don’t know what’s wrong, I do knowwho’swrong.
Beth.
Ever since they met, Dixon has been distant, distracted, and detached. He tells me nothing is wrong, but I don’t believe him. I know Beth is the cause of whatever is troubling him, but I just don’t know why.
“Would you stop obsessing over this? He’s stupidly crazy about you, Maddy,” Mary wisely says, obviously reading my internal dilemma.
“I can’t help it. I’ve got this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.” I rub my hand over my somersaulting belly.
“That’s called hormones.”
I spin around, grinning. “Not funny.”
She innocently shrugs. “I wasn’t trying to be funny.”
She’s part right. I never thought I’d feel this way, but I actually miss the physical connection between Dixon and I. It’s like being cut off after having a first taste—a very addictive taste.
My insecurities are once again plaguing my sanity and I can’t help but conjure upreasons Dixon won’t touch me. At the forefront is, now that he’s met Beth, does he feel like he’s dating the wrong sister?
I’ll never be like her. I’ll never have her confidence. Or her sexual prowess. And I’m afraid now that he’s met her, he wants that and not me. That’s what has me stepping out of my comfort zone and attempting to look like someone other than myself.
“So tonight should be fun, right?”
