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“What do you think they’ll do to her?” Abigail asks.
“I don’t know.”
But whatever it is, it won’t be good.
“It’s about time someone knocked her down a peg or two.” Tally smirks.
“Liv?” My door bursts open and Oak stands there, concern pinching his brow.
“Seriously, Beckworth,” Tally sneers. “You couldn’t just give us ten minutes?”
“Bite me, Prim.”
“Bite me, Beckworth.”
“What is going on right now?” I ask, glancing between them.
“Nothing,” they both snap in unison.
I hold my hands up and murmur, “Sorry I asked.”
“Where is—”
“In the kitchen.” Oak grimaces. “Don’t worry, I told him if he even so much as thinks about coming up here, I’ll break his fucking nose.”
“Oak,” I sigh.
“He doesn’t get a free pass just because he didn’t send that email. Fuck that, Liv.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“No, but I can see it in your eyes. You’re thinking about going down there to talk to him.”
Am I?
I don’t want to, but my brother is right. The urge to go to Reese burns through me.
He doesn’t deserve my sympathy or empathy, though.
He doesn’t deserve anything from me.
“Liv’s old enough to make her own decisions,” Tally says.
“Stay out of it, Prim.”
“Prim?” Abigail asks.
“Yeah. Little Miss Prim and Proper. Also known as a right stuck-up bitch.”
Tally scoffs. “You are such a prick.”
“Fuck—”
“Oak!” I hiss. “If you only came up here to argue with Tally, you can leave.”
His expression drops as he drags a hand over his face. “I came to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine. At least, I will be. What are we going to do about Darcie?”
