by Callie Rose
And when Savannah threatens to tell all the kids at school about his affair, what she really means is that she’ll tell all of their parents. If enough students find out, one of them will say something to their mom or dad, and the story will only spread from there.
Savannah is threatening to destroy the entire Black family.
Unless I do what she wants.
She wasn’t kidding. She wasn’t bluffing. She really did find a way to get back at me.
Cocking a perfectly shaped eyebrow, she stares at me, winding a strand of red hair around her fingertip. “What? No snappy comeback?”
“What do you want, Savannah?” I ask, my voice low and harsh.
Her eyes harden. “I want you to stop treating me like your little bitch. And I want you to forget everything Trent told you about me. You wreck me, I wreck your boyfriend. One of them anyway,” she corrects, with a disdainful frown. “And don’t think I won’t be looking for ways to bring down the others too.”
Fuck.
My thoughts immediately go to River, to the secret he’s managed to keep from nearly everyone in the school for so long. If it got out, it’s not like he’d be in trouble. He hasn’t done anything wrong.
But it would hurt him.
And I can’t let that happen.
Just like I can’t let Lincoln be hurt any more than his dad’s indiscretions have already hurt him.
She wins.
“Fine, Savannah.” I step back, fury burning in my chest even as I hold my hands up in a gesture surrender. “I’ll stop. I won’t ask you anything else about Iris, and I won’t… tell anyone what I know. Is that what you want?”
A slow smile spreads across her face, poisonous and deadly. “Yeah, it is. For now. I’m sure I’ll think of other things I want in the future, but you’ll just have to wait and see what those are.”
God, I want to grab a fistful of her hair and smash her face against the wall. I probably could too. I came out on top last time we fought, and if I took her by surprise, I’m sure I could get at least one satisfying hit in before she even started to fight back.
But then we’d get dragged into Principal Osterhaut’s office, I’d get in trouble, and she’d air Mr. Black’s dirty laundry anyway just to spite me.
With extreme effort, I uncurl my fists, sucking in a deep breath through my nose. “Great. I can’t wait to find out.”
“Aw, Harlow.” She grins smugly at me. “We’re gonna have so much fun.”
This fucking bitch.
I won’t deny I enjoyed having some power over her after Trent told us all her embarrassing secrets, but I used that power for two specific reasons only—to undo my expulsion from Linwood Academy and to track down information about how Iris and Judge Hollowell met.
Savannah is going to use her newfound power over me to make my life miserable just because she can.
“Yeah. Fun.”
I hike my backpack higher and yank open the stairwell door just as the bell rings for second period. I make it through Biology, English Literature, and Gym, rushing out of the locker room before Savannah or her cronies can give me any shit.
My chest hurts. Savannah didn’t just twist the knife, she stuck a second one in alongside the first, and now I feel like I can’t fucking breathe.
Instead of heading for the lunchroom, I take the stairs two at a time to the second floor, moving quickly toward the room where Lincoln has his fourth period class. Mr. Wartenburg let us out of gym a little early, so fourth period is just officially letting out as I walk up. Lincoln steps out of the classroom, running a hand through his shaggy dark hair, but he pauses when he sees me.
A look of immediate concern crosses his face, and he reaches me in two strides, grabbing my arms and pulling me out of the way of the flow of students as they file into the hall, dropping his head to bring his face level with mine.
“What is it? Your mom? Dunagan?”
I shake my head mutely, then grab one of his hands and pull him farther down the corridor, slipping into the library. There are a few students bent over tables working on some project or other, but I tug Linc toward one of the little meeting rooms in the back. Officially, we’re supposed to reserve time if we want to use them for group projects or whatever, but kids sneak into them all the time to fool around since they’re empty more often than not.
Once we’re tucked away in the little room, Lincoln pulls his hand out of mine and cups my face between his palms, staring at me with a look of growing worry.
“What happened, Harlow? What’s going on?”
“Are your parents getting divorced?” I whisper.
He stiffens. “What? Who told you that?”
“Savannah.”
“How the fuck did she find out?”
“I don’t know. She knows about Paige and the blackmail too.” I hurry on, because even though Savannah is a conniving bitch, that’s not what I want to talk about right now. “She said your parents are getting divorced. Is it true?”
Lincoln hesitates for a moment, his tongue darting out wet the corner of his mouth. Then he drops his head and sighs.
“Yeah. When my dad said he wanted to talk to me the day you and River and I—” He breaks off, as if he doesn’t like associating that incredible moment between us with what apparently came after. “Well, that’s what he wanted to talk to me about. To tell me he and my mom are getting divorced.”
“Fuck,” I breathe. “Linc, I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell me?”
He shrugs, and I can tell he’s trying to play it off like it’s not a big deal. But even though he’s good at bluffing, I can see through the lie this time. He’s hurting.
“You had so much other shit going on. I didn’t want to pile on, especially when there’s really nothing you or I or anyone can do about it. It just is what it is.”
I step forward, wrapping my arms around him. He stiffens for a second, like he’s afraid he’ll weaken me by leaning on me. Like it’ll be too much for me to bear.
But what he doesn’t understand is, I’m stronger when I’m with him. Even if it means carrying a heavier load.
His body loosens slowly, and he wraps his arms around me and drops his head, bringing our bodies so close together it’s hard to tell where I end and he begins.
“It fucking sucks, Low,” he whispers hoarsely. “I think my dad is actually heartbroken about it. He’s a mess. But if he’s so sad about losing his marriage, I don’t know why he wrecked it in the first place.”
“I’m sorry you had to deal with it on your own.”
My voice is muffled by his chest, but I make no effort to move. I can barely breathe with my face smushed against him like this, but I don’t care. His spicy coriander scent surrounds me, and I can feel the warmth of his skin through the soft long-sleeved tee he’s wearing.
“I’m sorry you had to find out from fucking Savannah,” he mutters, a growl in his voice.
“She told me if I don’t leave her alone and do whatever she wants, she’ll spread it all over school.” I finally pull back a little as I say that, guilt twisting in my gut at the thought that Savannah might go after him to get to me. “I told her I’d do whatever she wants,” I add quickly.
Lincoln blinks down at me, his amber eyes unreadable. Then he shakes his head.
“No, you won’t.”
“Yes.” I tighten my arms around him. “I will. Linc, this could be really bad if it gets out. Your dad has spent months negotiating with this woman to try to keep her quiet. And Savannah could make sure pretty much all of Fox Hill finds out.”
He shrugs. “Then let her.”
I swallow. What?
What he’s saying doesn’t make any sense.
Maybe he can read my thoughts on my face, because Lincoln shakes his head again.
“It’s not what I want to have happen, Low. But I’m not letting you throw yourself on Savannah’s altar to protect my father. He’s a grown man. He made his own shitty decisions, and he’ll live with the shitty con
sequences if he has to.” He lifts one hand to run his fingers down the side of my face, tracing the line of my jaw. “I’m on your side. I choose you.”
Tears burn the backs of my eyes, but I blink them away so I can see him clearly, trying to read his face. “But… he’s your dad.”
“Yeah.” Linc nods. “And I love him—although sometimes I hate him too. But I don’t have to protect him from this. When he slept with those fucking housekeepers, he wasn’t protecting me or my mom. When he knocked one of them up, he wasn’t taking care of us. He was doing what he wanted, for himself.”
His gaze softens, his eyes warming as some of the pain bleeds out of them. “He got himself into this mess because he didn’t choose Audrey. When he had a choice between her and someone else, he didn’t choose her. But I don’t want to be like him, Low. I choose you. And I’ll keep choosing you.”
Holy fuck.
His face blurs in my vision as the tears I was blinking back spill out anyway. He wipes away the drops as they fall, brushing his thumbs over my cheeks.
“I’ve had shitty examples of relationships,” Linc continues. His voice is soft. Open. Raw. “I guess you have too, with your dad splitting before you were even born. But I don’t want that. I want ours to be stronger than that.”
“Me too.”
My heart surges in my chest as my fingers glide up the back of his neck, sliding through the soft strands of his hair. He’s so fucking beautiful, hard edges covering a softness that not everyone gets to see.
“Do you think it can be?” I murmur. “Even if it’s shared? Even if it’s between all five of us?”
“Hey.” A flicker of anger lights in his eyes, but I know it’s not directed at me. It’s directed outward at the world, a protective sort of anger. “No one gets to tell us what ‘we’ should look like. No one gets to decide that but us.”
I grin, biting my lip. “Yeah. You’re right. I like that.”
A smile blooms on his face. It’s different than any smile I’ve ever seen him wear before, and I swear I feel it in my heart like it’s physically connected to me.
“Good.” He traces the line of my cheekbone with his knuckle. “I want you, Harlow. I choose you. And watching my best friends fall for you? It makes me fall harder right along with them.”
Then he drops his head and kisses me, and the whole world disappears.
13
The week moves by at the speed of a slug inching its way across a rock.
I was tempted to find Savannah immediately after my conversation with Lincoln and tell her she could go fuck herself. But even though he was adamant about me not going along with her petty games just to protect his dad, it seems stupid to start an all-out war with her. We’ve got more than enough shit to deal with right now as it is; I don’t need to add to our problems.
So instead, I just do what I can to ignore the redheaded bitch and stay out of her way.
Scott Parsons calls me on Wednesday with an update on mom’s trial preparations. He sounds upbeat, but nothing he says gives me any confidence that it’s actually going well. So either he’s just being overly optimistic, or he’s so clueless that he truly believes he’s kicking ass at this.
On Thursday, the twins and I drop River back off at his place after school as usual. It snowed again, and the fresh blanket of white makes the world look pristine and untouched.
“I think this is the one thing I like about winter,” I say absently, gazing out the window at Dax pulls up the drive to their house.
“What’s that?” He glances over at me.
“Fresh snow. It’s like a new start, a blank canvas. It’s pretty.” Then I snort under my breath. “As long as I don’t have to drive in it.”
Chase laughs as we roll into the garage and Dax cuts the engine. “Yeah, you and snow and cars don’t mix.”
We all pile out and head into the house. I’m thinking about what homework I need to get done to keep from falling even further behind, but we’re interrupted on the way to the stairs by the twins’ mom, Evelyn.
“Boys,” she calls, stepping out of the large living room. “We’re having a dinner party tonight, so I’ll need you downstairs at six o’clock sharp. Dinner will be served at seven.” Her gaze flicks to me. “You’re welcome to join us too, Harlow.”
“Um, okay.”
That wasn’t at all what I wanted to spend my evening doing, but it seems very unwise to reject the offer of a woman whose house I’m currently crashing at. The twins’ parents have been amazingly blasé about me staying here, but I don’t want to get on their bad sides.
“Wonderful.” She beams, looking a little Stepford wife-ish in her bland excitement. “Dress will be semi-formal.”
“Uh, okay.”
She returns to the living room as the three of us head upstairs. As we walk down the hall toward our bedrooms, I shoot a glance at Chase. “Not that I’m complaining, but why on earth would she want me there?”
He rolls his eyes. “Probably so she can show you off just like us. We’ll go down at six, and she’ll brag to all of her friends about what schools we got accepted into and what honors we’ve gotten this year.”
“And she wants to brag about me too?”
“Well, not brag, per se,” Dax throws in. “More like make herself look good by flaunting how she’s taken you in.”
“Oh, she took me in?” I arch a brow.
“As far as all her friends probably think, yeah.” He chuckles. “It’s just another game they play for social standing. Pretty much everyone in their circle knows about your mom and about Iris’s death. But most of them consider you an innocent victim in all of this, so it’ll make my mom look good to say she’s taking care of you.”
“Wow. Okay.”
I pull a face. As if I didn’t already feel enough like an animal in a zoo, now I’ll probably have people staring at me all night with sympathetic looks on their faces.
We have a bit of time before dinner, so the three of us crash in the large rec room downstairs and do homework, sprawled together on the couch in comfortable silence. At five, I go upstairs to shower and change, opting for a dress and leggings since I’m not quite sure what “semi-formal” means in this context.
I meet the guys outside my room, and we go down together. Guests start to arrive at a little after six, and they’re ushered into a large ballroom by the house staff. It’s such a familiar scene that it’s giving me acute déjà vu, and I have to shake off memories of helping mom greet guests at the Black house.
This won’t be quite as big of a gathering as those cocktail parties though. The Lauders’ dining room table is huge, big enough to comfortably seat thirty people, but that’s a far cry from the guest list at the Black family parties.
Lincoln and River’s parents are invited, and the boys come with them. Audrey and Samuel won’t even look at each other. I remember how they used to act all lovey-dovey in public, even if they’d just had a massive fight—but I guess the days of pretending are pretty much over.
I find Linc and squeeze his hand as the adults all head over to the bar, which is being manned by one of the house staff.
“You okay?”
He nods. “Yeah. At least they both care about their reputations enough to act civil around other people. It’s not—”
But I never get to find out what it isn’t. Before Lincoln can finish that thought, his gaze flicks to something behind me, and his whole body stiffens.
“Fuck,” he mutters.
I turn around, and my stomach clenches.
Fuck is right.
Judge Hollowell is walking across the room, arm outstretched to boisterously greet another dinner party attendee. His smile is broad and open, and when he reaches the man, they shake hands and clap each other on the shoulder before heading to the bar together, deep in conversation already.
Shit. Shit. I should’ve known he’d be here. I should’ve asked.
I could’ve pretended to be sick, turned down Mrs. Lauder’s invi
tation, and spent the entire evening locked away in my room. Maybe I can still do that. I can slip away and have Dax or Chase make my excuses for me.
But before I can move, Hollowell’s gaze flicks around the room, stopping when it lands on me. He looks a little surprised, but then he smiles and dips his head in a small nod of greeting.
I stretch my lips into a stiff smile and nod back.
“Goddammit. We didn’t know he’d be here, Low. I swear.”
As Dax speaks, he and the other three boys gather around me in a tight knot, like they’re trying to physically protect me from the judge.
Shit. This could go downhill so fucking fast.
We’re all on edge, and it’s hard enough for me to keep my cool around this man. Four protective boys are going to have an even harder time—especially if I’m here. I can already feel them puffing up around me, aggression and anger making their bodies tense.
“I—I think I have to bail on dinner,” I mutter to the twins, restraining myself from glancing over at Hollowell again as I speak. “This isn’t a good idea.”
“Agreed.” Dax’s jaw muscle jump. “I’ll tell mom you’re sick. She’ll be mad, but she won’t drag you back down here if she thinks you’re liable to barf on someone.”
“Okay.” I nod, panic making the motion choppy and fast. “Will you guys be okay down here by yourselves?”
“Yeah, we’ll manage,” Chase says. “We’ll stay out of his way. He’s got no reason to talk to us, so hopefully he’ll keep his distance.”
He glances toward the gaggle of adults on the far side of the room, his expression bored and disinterested. He’s a pretty bad poker player, but he can bluff well when he has to.
I nod, cast one more look at the four boys, then turn and bolt for the door. Evelyn glances at me with annoyance as I go, but I don’t slow down, leaving the twins to deal with her.
Another well-dressed couple and their daughter are being ushered into the house as I head up the broad stairway on the left to the second floor. When I reach the guest room I’m staying in, I shut the door behind me and lean against it, willing my heart to beat slower.