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“I gave you the choice to wait, but you’re forcing me to pick my career.”
“Gabe—”
“I choose my career,” I say, my voice rising into an angry shout. “I choose my name and everything it stood for before you came into my life and everything it will stand for again one day.”
The sound she makes is half laugh, half sob. “One day you’re going to regret me, Gabriel Sinclair. Maybe even as much as I regret you.”
Chapter twenty-nine
Ashley
Iendthecall.Gabe made his choice, and it wasn’t exactly a surprise. I’ll cry about it later. Right now, I have a more immediate problem on my hands. There are about twenty SuperVans—fans of Kate Van Sandt—outside my house, and they don’t appear interested in going home. Not one of them looks violent, but anyone deep enough in a parasocial relationship with their idol to find my house and sit outside with glittery signs calling me a homewrecker and a whore can’t be trusted to remain peaceful.
Worse, I have to sit with the uncomfortable knowledge that my relationship with Nic before Gabe entered my life was not all that different from what these people have with Kate.
I called the police. They said someone would come around. That was hours ago, and it’s getting dark. I’m not comfortable sleeping here tonight with them outside.
They aren’t buying the statements Gabe and Kate put out earlier about never being exclusive or serious or whatever. I don’t plan to stick around to find out what their intentions toward me are. My bag is half-packed when I finally get through to Lea. She agrees to pick me up in thirty minutes a block away from my house.
I’ll be going over the back wall and through a vacant lot. Something I’m not happy about, but I’d rather not go through the SuperVans and have them follow me to a hotel.
I bet the police would take an interest in them loitering around a hotel though.
My doorbell goes nuts, like someone is holding it down. The pounding on the door starts immediately and I’m creeping up to the peephole, baseball bat in hand, when I hear her voice.
“For fuck’s sake, Ashley let me in this instant. These people are not friendly.”
If this is what I get for trying to be good, I’m going back to villainy.
I unlock the door, open it enough to yank my mother into my house and slam it shut, quickly turning the lock.
“What are you doing?” she hisses, her hands fluttering to smooth out any wrinkles I might have made when I rescued her. She’s beautiful, like always. Dressed for a night out in a stunning little black dress.
“Why are you here?” I demand.
“You blocked my number after that awful man—was he the one the tabloids said cheated on Kate Van Sandt? Withyou? I suppose he left you too.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “What do you want?”
She huffs. “Your father’s an asshole.”
Of course. She’s not concerned about the mob outside my house or my broken heart. She wants my sympathy for her problems, and soon enough, she’ll want me to help her get her revenge. Or get him back. It’s the same thing at this point.
My phone chimes.
They’re still outside. You ready?
Lea
I grab my bag from the stairs and head for the door to the garage. My mother follows, listing out all the ways my father has wronged her this time.
Ready.
me
Twenty seconds later, an unholy amount of noise erupts at the front of my house. I press the button, raising the garage door and ducking out, holding back a laugh when my mother does the same without questioning what we’re doing. She’s too caught up in her story to notice the horn blaring or the shouting from the front of my house.
I close the garage door. “Come on. Tell me what he said next.” I’m not listening, but it’s as good a prompt as any.
