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I grab the bottle of orange juice and as I close the fridge, the bright pink sticky note staring back at me steals my attention. I recognize Mom’s handwriting immediately and a weight drops in my stomach. It’s never good news when Mom goes to the effort of leaving a note.
*No school = working. You have a HUGE mess to clean up. I am not happy!*
Shit. I guess my good day of lounging around the pool house just went to shit.
Now knowing that there’s a big mess being left for me, I bypass the whole drinking out of a cup thing and just lift the bottle to my lips, cringing at mom’s voice in my head threatening to kill me if I was to keep doing it. The bottle gets jammed back into the fridge and I dawdled into the bathroom before madly searching through the drawers for some painkillers.
I get myself through a hot shower and after dressing and finding my phone, I push through to the staff quarters to find both Mom and Maryne staring back at me. Scowls instantly spread over their faces and guilt pours through me. It would be so easy to say that party was Colton’s idea but they know me well enough to know he wouldn’t have done it without the idea being pushed into his douchey little mind.
I press my lips into a tight line and scurry past them before either gets a chance to curse me out. I can only imagine the string of curses that would come flying out of my mother’s mouth. It’d be enough to make even the devil blush.
I grab one of the maid’s cleaning carts, knowing damn well that the mess in the kitchen, living room, and pool area is going to need all the help it can get. I start pushing and get out into the main part of the house before finding myself following the murmured voices coming from one of the informal living spaces.
Colton’s low rumble sounds through the room and I stop just short of the door. I’m all too curious about what the hell is going on in there. “I’m sure he’ll show up,” Colton murmurs. “He’s disappeared without a word before.”
Disappeared? Is he talking about Jude? I’ve been doing a good job of pretending that fucker doesn’t exist, but Colton’s words have the memories from last Saturday night flooding back to the forefront of my head. My hands are shaking as anger begins pulsing through me.
“Not like this,” a woman responds, her tone full of panic. “He’s always left a note or at least sent a text when he’s going to be gone for a few days.”
“It’s only been a week …”
“A week and a half, Colton. It’s been a week and a half. Something is wrong.”
Colton lets out a heavy sigh. “I really think he’s alright, Mrs. Carter. I would have heard if something had happened. He probably just took a trip down south with some friends or maybe he’s met someone who’s keeping him away. You know how he gets. He probably hasn’t even realized that he’s worrying everyone back home.”
Worrying them? The fuck? No one is fucking worried about him. He’s a fucking rapist. He should be slaughtered, not searched out because mommy and daddy are desperate to get their little boy home.
Mrs. Carter lets out a heavy sigh. “I guess,” she says as I hear the familiar sounds of someone raising off the couch. “He’ll come home to me. He always does.”
“I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”
“Thank you, love. You’ve been a great help in easing my worries, though unfortunately, my fears are still there.”
“I know,” he says.
I hear them walking out of the room and anger pulses through me. That’s it? Colton isn’t going to tell her how her precious son sexually harassed me for weeks until he finally found the courage to drug and rape me? He’s just going to let her walk away?
No. I can’t let this happen.
“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Harrison murmurs so softly behind me that I practically jump right out of my skin.
“And why the hell not?” I demand, narrowing my eyes as Colton steps out of the living room with Mrs. Carter and leads her to the front door.
“I’m not going to pretend to know what that boy did to you, but the staff talk, and I can only assume that it was horrendous. But think about who you are and what that boy has gotten away with. Do you think they’re going to believe the poor girl from Breakers Flats?”
I clench my jaw, shaking my head as I already know he’s right.
“They’re going to call you a liar until you believe it yourself.”
“Colton walked in. He saw what he did to me. He can back me up.”
