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Aimee’s nodding, oblivious to my internal meltdown. “She’s right. Stop messing around and accept this honor.”
Her words snap me back to attention. “Honor?”
“Yes, honor. Do you know how many girls would love to be in your position right now?”
“Probably hundreds.” I shrug. “But the point is…” I let out a breath, and despite the fist that’s squeezing my heart to dust, I feel a sense of liberation as I look Aimee in the face and tell her, “The point is…Idon’t want to be here.”
I spin for the door, kind of surprised that the thought of being homeless right now is more appealing than staying in this place. The chains around me are dropping off as I reach for the door handle.
“Argh!” Aimee screeches. “You are impossible. Your mother’s right about you. No wonder she had such a hard time raising you. All she wants to do is help you, and you just keep throwing it back in her face. And now you’re doing the same thing to me. To us!”
I whip around, struggling to hide my shock. Has she been having secret powwows with Mom behind my back? Talking shit about me?
The betrayal is brutal and fires off sparks of rage that build to an inferno in my chest.
“You havenotbeen trying to help me,” I shout. “If anything, you’ve taken great pleasure in torturing me, and I’m done. I’mdone!” I wrench the door open, ignoring the gasps from the line of pajama-clad girls watching me.
“Oh, youaredone, Mikayla Hyde. We are through, do you understand me? Don’t expect any more kind gestures on my part. If you walk out that door—if you choose him over us—you are burning all your bridges.”
I pause, yet again wondering if this clueless bitch can hear herself.
Kind gestures? When has she ever given me one of those?
“You know what, Aimee?” I turn to face her. “Go fuck yourself.”
A chorus of gasps echoes around me as I give my future stepsister a pointed look, then raise my middle finger and walk out the door.
CHAPTER40
ETHAN
It’s one thirty in the morning, and I can’t sleep. Dragging my ass out of bed, I storm down the stairs, frustration coursing through me. Mikayla’s soft words have been ringing in my head since I pushed her out the door.
“I never meant to hurt you.”
Yeah, right. Is that why she strung me along? Played me like a fucking fiddle?
I could have lost the bet because of her.
I had every right to push her out of my room.
So why the fuck do I feel so bad about it?
Yanking the fridge open, I eye the beer cans. It’s a day off tomorrow. I could get rip-roaring drunk right now and it wouldn’t hurt anybody.
Sounds fucking good to me.
I snatch the six-pack out of the fridge and go to pop one open when Liam appears in the doorway. He’s in boxer shorts, his chest bare, his big arms folded as he eyes me up for a second, then glances at the beer can.
“Really?”
I snap it open and guzzle half the can. “Really.” I slump onto the stool, letting out a loud burp before wiping my mouth and dumping the rest of the six-pack on the counter.
“Classy.” He takes a seat opposite me and snickers, but the amusement on his face quickly dies. “I'm sorry, man. It sucks.”
He doesn’t even know what went down and he’s giving me sympathy. I should probably tell him, but it’s fucking humiliating, and I’m not sure if I can get the words out. Even to Liam.
“I know how much you liked her.”
