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Clearly, that isn’t enough for her. She wants to watch me break down. Nothing short of that will satisfy her. “So you agree? You’re ugly, and nobody wants to see you around?”
“Deborah, it’s not that I’m normally in the mood for this, but I am especially not in the mood right now. I don’t know what you want me to say besides we’re not in high school anymore.” You’d think she’d act more like an adult. I know we’re only eighteen, but geez, we’re not twelve.
“You could say goodbye.”
I stand, sliding back into my shoes and facing her. “You want me to say goodbye? Fine. I’m leaving the room.”
“No. That’s not quite good enough.”
I can’t help but gasp in horror when she tosses the entire content of her glass at me. The red wine splashes onto my dress, and crimson immediately soaks into the light-colored fabric. The cold liquid seeps into my dress and my skin before dripping down my legs and onto my heels.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I whisper, looking down at myself. It’s ruined, there’s no getting this out, and I can’t imagine sitting through the rest of the night looking this way. Mom is going to have a fit.
She giggles, shrugging when I look up from the disaster she caused. I already feel the wine soaking through the satin and onto my skin. “I guess you’ll have to go home. Trust me, it’s better this way for everybody.” She even pats me on the arm like she’s being sympathetic before strolling out of the bathroom and leaving me stained and sticky.
I guess she’s getting what she wanted. I can’t stay around here like this. I doubt anybody will notice I’m gone, anyway. I pull out my phone to order an Uber, which thankfully isn’t far from the venue. I only have to wait a few more minutes, trying in vain to dab away the worst of the stain before ducking out, almost running for the door before anybody sees me like this.
And as I go, the sounds of music and laughter follow me. Everybody else is having the time of their lives while I slink away, embarrassed. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this alone.
CHAPTER15
It’s eerie how quiet the house is now. I feel like I’m walking into a mausoleum when I enter. It isn’t my heartache and embarrassment causing me to feel that way, either. There’s something about the coldness in here, the lack of warmth or charm. Some people might call it elegant or tasteful. I think it’s a waste of money. I’d rather live in a comfortable, slightly cluttered house where I feel at home.
My footsteps echo off the floor as I walk to the stairs, then climb them slowly, exhaustion finally settling in and dragging me down. There’s only so much a person can take. After that face-off with Deborah, I’m waving the white flag. I’m done for the night. So what if my mother finds out I left early? I doubt she’ll miss me. She might be glad I’m gone, come to think of it. This can be my wedding gift to her.
It feels great to get out of this sticky dress and wash up in the shower. I wish I could wash everything off, all the dirtiness I feel deep down inside, but soap can only do so much. I know in my heart it’s up to me whether I choose to give in to the depression and despair Colt and Nix clearly want me to sink into. It’s up to me whether I feel dirty and used. I’m not going to let them break me.
Though it’s probably easier said in my own head when I’m here alone. I can breathe freely for once without the fear of somebody walking in on me or finding some way to make me miserable.
Nobody’s here.
Which means nobody would know if I…
Nope. I need to shut down that line of thinking right now before it takes root.
I shouldn’t. I’m only asking for trouble, aren’t I? I shake my head at myself, determined not to stir up more problems than I already have. Sure, everybody is at the wedding, and I’m positive they’ll be there for hours—things had hardly started by the time I left.
That doesn’t mean I can sneak around, nor does it mean I should.
Yet by the time I’m finished putting on my pajamas, curiosity is threatening to kill me. There has to be something I could use against them, something I can hold over their heads the next time they want to hurt me. Obviously, the threat of going to the police means nothing, especially thanks to that little recording Colt made. Could I find something just as damning? I can’t be the only girl they’ve hurt this way, and I can’t be the only one they’ve recorded for posterity.
There’s only one way to find out, and the longer I spend fighting with myself, the more time I waste. That’s why, even though the house is dark and quiet, I run down the hall on tiptoes and enter Colt’s room.
There’s a laptop on his desk, and since it’s the only thing sitting around that looks even remotely useful, I open it in hopes of being able to access some of the files without needing a password. Maybe luck is finally going my way since a swipe across the trackpad with my finger opens up the desktop. A tingling sensation rushes over me, and my heartbeat picks up. I listen hard for any signs of someone coming home early, but the only thing to reach my ears is silence. This is as good a time as any.
Is he this stupid or simply so full of himself that he doesn’t think to cover his tracks? There’s a folder right there on the desktop with my name on it. What could he possibly have? Maybe a copy of the audio file from last night? Not that I want to hear it again, but it would be good to know they have a backup sitting around.
The folder contains a few items, the first of which is a video. I can’t tell much from the thumbnail, so I click on it, hoping against hope it’s not anything too disgusting.
I guess my luck can only run so far since, instantly, I’m transported back to the night of the party. The night they both forced me to suck Nix’s dick. I want to turn my eyes away from it, but I can’t stop watching. From this vantage point, it’s even more disgusting. The way I so obviously struggle, and the tears in my eyes. The gagging, choking sounds I made while the brothers only laughed at me.
The cold, nauseating sensation of being helpless washes over me and makes me shake. How dare they? Who do they think they are?
Before I can click on the second icon, the lid to the laptop snaps shut, and suddenly I’m face-to-face with none other than Nix himself. “Bad girl.”
“I…”Shit. How the hell am I getting out of this?
“What? Snooping through my brother’s shit or just strolling down memory lane, thinking about getting off to the memory of having my dick in your mouth?”
