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He doesn’t resist.
“What’s perfect about my cousin and my ex-boyfriend wanting to make my life a living hell… one so miserable, I may not want to live?” I’m so worked up. “Chance violated my rights to privacy and Mariah was itching to make it go viral because the press is paying more attention to me than to her.” I throw daggers at my cousin.
An officer raises her hand as a barrier. She also gives me a warning look.
“Your spitefulness knows no bounds!” I wave a menacing finger at Mariah. “What have I ever done for you to hate me so much you’d be willing to do such an abominable thing?”
She doesn’t answer.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
She’s obstinate in her silence.
“Answer me!” I yell.
“You’re a goodie-two-shoes-people-pleaser, which makes you an easy target, Arianne.” Mariah finally speaks. “As we grew older, it became clear I’d never be able to beat you at life—fucking Miss Genius and all—so I made it my mission to screw up your relationships. You couldn’t compete in that department and I knew it. I figured you’d hide in a hole for the rest of your natural life after Chance, but noooooo, you had to score him!” She jerks her chin in Beckett’s direction.
I can’t believe my ears.
This woman has no soul.
“Because you’re jealous of me, you’re entitled to destroy me?” I ask.
“I’m the pretty one in the family! Stop overshadowing me!”
“You sound pathetic. Grow up, Mariah—”
“I wish Aunt Muriel had never found you and let you freeze to death—”
My palm doesn’t crack against her cheek like I intended.
Beckett pulls me away before I’m able to rearrange her smirking face.
“I get where you’re coming from, Arianne, trust me I do, but don’t give her any ammunition,” he tells me.
One blow. I just want one blow.
Okay, more like two dozen, but I’ll be happy with one.
“I’m going to sue you for assault and battery!” Mariah threatens.
“You wish, evil bitch!” I say.
She doesn’t have a comeback.
“Mariah’s jealousy is a gift.”
My head whips in Beckett’s direction.
My face contorts in myriad expressions, unable to understand the logic behind his statement.
“Without her confession, you wouldn’t know Chance was holding a loaded gun to your head, ready to fire at the drop of a hat.” Beckett’s words put everything into perspective.
My shoulders slump in defeat.
I’m no match for evil.
“You’re right,” I tell him.
