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The driver nods. “One of the finest in Honeyton.”
That leaves a foul taste in my mouth. Blaise and his brothers live in one of the shittiest houses in Honeyton whereas their dad lives in this godly mansion that looms over the city like freakin’ Batman—although, I doubt the dude is anything like Batman. How is that fair? What kind of father would be okay with his kids living in a shithole when they clearly don’t have to? Then again, who am I to judge when my father beat the shit out of me just last night?
My cheek throbs at the reminder.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” the driver comments as he drives along the cobblestone drive that curves in front of the house.
The area is covered in green grass, blooming flowers, and blossoming trees, cherry blossoms raining from the branches. This place looks straight out of a fantasy, but I doubt the inside will match.
“Sure,” I reply, being evasive on purpose.
“You must be a tough girl to please then.” He chuckles as he parks the car and shuts off the engine. Then he hops out but ducks his head back in and pushes a button under the dash.
The back door clicks open.
Well, that explains the weird door-opening-on-its own-earlier thing, but that doesn’t help me feel less uneasy. Still, I hop out of the car.
Two other cars are pulling in from down the driveway and drive straight into the garage. The doors shut before I can get a good view of who’s inside, and I get a bad case of the get-me-the-fuck-out-of-here.
My gaze darts to the driveway as I contemplate bolting, running until I make it home. But do I even have a home anymore? I’m not even sure who owns the house or how I’ll pay rent next month.
“Please don’t try to run,” the driver says, slipping the keys out of the ignition. “If you do, I’ll have to chase you, and I pulled my hamstring the other day while I was jogging so I’ll probably end up hurting myself.”
I tear my gaze off the driveway, cross my arms, and lift my brows. “You know, it’s not a good idea to tell someone who’s considering running away that you’re injured. All that does is let me know you’re going to be easy to outrun.”
“Hey, I’m still fast, even with only one good leg.” He gives me a smile that I’m not certain how to decipher. “Relax, Hadley Harlyton, no one here’s going to hurt you.”
I sense a silentyet. “If you say so.”
“I do say so, and I never lie.” He winks at me. “In fact, that’s my nickname.”
“I Never Lie is your nickname?” I ask warily. When he nods, I gape at him. “Seriously?”
“Of course. I never lie. Remember?” He winks at me again then signals for me to follow him as he starts up the brick path lined with tulips and heads toward the red, overly large entrance door.
I have no idea what’s up with all the winking or the stupid nicknames, but decide this guy is super weird, in an interesting yet creepy way. It makes me feel very uneasy and way off my cool, badass game. Usually, I’m a pro at pretending to be chill in even the most stressful situations. Right now, I’m a freaking step away from my heart flying out of my chest.
Take a deep breath. You got this, Hadley. You always got this.
But the instant I step over the threshold and into the house, I realize I don’t got this.
Not even a little bit.
Not even close.
And maybe I’ve never had anything. Perhaps I’ve been faking everything all this time. How could I have ever had anything under control? If I did, then I wouldn’t be standing in the most ginormous entryway with a painted domed ceiling, massive columns, and an overly polished marble floor.
“This place is …” I struggle to find the right word. “Shiny.”
“Shiny?” The driver muses as he shucks off his jacket. “Huh, I’ve never heard that one before. Most say it’s beautiful. Almost otherworldly.”
“It is, but it’s a little too fancy for me,” I admit, my gaze skimming across the weird abstract artwork mounted on the walls.
“Really?” Skepticism seeps from his tone as he hangs his jacket on the fancy ivory coatrack then removes his hat.
“Yes, dude, really.” I roll my eyes. “Not everyone in this world wants big houses and fancy cars.”
“So, you’re saying if I offered you a Porsche right now, you wouldn’t take it?” He observes my reaction closely—unnervingly.
