by Caitlyn Dare
“Please, call me, Temperance.”
“Tempie—can I call you Tempie? I just love your pant suit. It really compliments your eyes.”
“Well, thank you Brook. What a lovely thing to say.”
Brook catches my eyes and smirks. I roll my eyes, fighting the urge to groan.
“Mrs. Thompson.” The maître d’ approaches us. “Your table is ready.”
“Girls, shall we?” Mom ushers us inside. Sasha casts me a bemused glance; she looks as pleased to be here as I am.
Brook takes my mom’s arm and they walk into the restaurant together.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Sasha hisses under her breath.
“Can you try and play nice? For my mom’s sake?” My expression softens.
“This is crazy, you realize that, right?”
“My mom invited her.” I shrug. “I couldn’t exactly send her away.”
“That’s exactly what you should have done.”
“Let’s just get through lunch. Hopefully Brook will play nice.”
“This is Brook we’re talking about.”
“Girls?” Mom glances back at us dawdling behind. “Is everything okay?”
“Fine, Mom. Let’s sit.” I make sure to plant myself between Sasha and Mom. Annabel sits between Sasha and Brook, and Brook revels in being next to my mom.
“I just love the food here. It’s always so well-cooked.” Brook plucks her menu off the table and studies it as if this is completely normal. As if we’re all just friends doing lunch.
“What do you fancy, sweetheart?” Mom asks me, and I shrug. My appetite has been missing since I woke up this morning and realized what day it was.
“Just a salad,” I reply without looking at the menu.
“With the salmon?”
“Sure, Mom.” I swallow over the lump in my throat.
“Have whatever you like, girls. Mia’s father is kindly picking up the tab.”
My stomach drops at the mention of Dad.
“Mia, darling, what is it? What’s wrong?”
“Pre-Coglio jitters, I bet,” Brook whispers, flashing me a conspiratorial wink as she takes a sip of her champagne.
“Of course.” Mom pats my hand. “It is a big night for you.” She chuckles. “I remember it well—my wedding night, of course. Your father and I were up all—”
“Okay, Mom. Nobody needs to hear yours and Dad’s sex stories.”
“We’re all friends, Mia. And it’s the most natural thing in the world.”
I snatch up my crystal flute and gulp the champagne down.
“I agree, Mia,” Brook drawls. “Sex is healthy. And you’re Cade Kingsley’s prosapia. He’s like—”
The server appears, silencing Brook. Thank God. This is turning into my worst nightmare, which is something considering my life is one constant bad dream lately.
We reel off our orders, then Mom clinks her glass, smiling at me. “I would just like to say a few words. Mia, darling, I know this isn’t what you wanted for your life, but to be prosapia is a blessing. May you walk into your new life with humility, grace, and poise. I just know you and Cade are going to live a long and happy life together.”
She’s brainwashed.
My own mother is completely and utterly brainwashed.
I don’t know whether to laugh or cry, so I opt for a muted thanks and help myself to another glass of champagne. Sasha squeezes my hand under the table, but it does little to ease the knot in my stomach.
“Excuse me, I need a girl’s minute.” Brook excuses herself and struts across the room as if she owns the place. Men track her every move, especially her ass, and women watch with envy in their eyes.
Brook is made for this world. Cut from the heart of Gravestone. Nothing would have to be forced on her; she’d accept it all willingly with open arms.
Annabel’s purse begins vibrating. She digs out her cell phone and checks the screen. “It’s my mom. I’ll be right back.” Hurrying from the table, she exits the restaurant. A strange sensation trickles down my spine, but I can’t quite put my finger on what’s wrong.
I glance over at the doors again but can’t see Annabel.
“What is it?” Sasha asks.
“I don’t know. I’ll be right back, okay?” I push from the table and stand. My mom calls after me, but I take off toward the doors Annabel left through.
I don’t know what I expect to find, but when I spill into the foyer there’s no sign of her. It’s like the pieces of the puzzle are slotting against each other but all wrong.
What am I missing?
“Excuse me.” I approach the check-in desk. “Did you see a girl come out here a second ago?”
“Yes, she just left.”
I glance back to the main doors and take off, catching sight of Annabel disappearing around the side of the building. My brows furrow. What the hell is she doing?
Heart racing, I follow her but keep a safe distance. She’s around the back of the country club now, near the kitchen. A door swings open and I duck behind a stack of crates. Brook appears, and my heart drops.
No.
No!
They start arguing about something, but I can’t hear them over the whir of the fans. Annabel jabs her finger at Brook who cackles, a wicked glint in her eye. She shoos Annabel away and slips back inside the building.
The second Annabel reaches me, I step out into her path.
“Mia? My God, you startled me. What is it? What’s wrong?”
My brow arches. “I saw you.”
“S-saw me? What do you mean? I came out here to talk to my mom.” She waves her cell at me.
“I saw you with Brook.”
The blood drains from her face. “I-I can explain, it’s not what you think.”
“I don’t know what I think right now. Are you two… friends?”
Her lip wobbles. “We’ve been hanging out. She knows what it’s like to be… to be on the outside.”
Guilt snakes through me, but nothing I’ve done deserves this kind of betrayal.
“It’s Brook—or have you forgotten that?”
“I messed up, Mia. At first, I thought she genuinely wanted to be friends… she made me feel better about everything. But then she started asking me questions. Things about you…”
“What did you tell her?”
“N-nothing important, I swear.”
“So what was that just now?”
“She threatened to tell you about everything if I didn’t start telling her what she wants to know.”
I let out an irritated sigh. “We should go back inside.”
“You’re not mad?”
“Oh, I’m mad. I’m so mad at you right now. You betrayed me, Bel.”
Her expression falls, tears pooling in the corners of her eyes.
“But I don’t want Brook to know that I know.”
“I don’t want to play games anymore,” she cries. “She… she kinda scares me.”
Narrowing my eyes on my best friend, the one girl I thought I could trust in all this, I smile sadly. “You should have thought about that before you sided with the devil.”
27
Bexley
The house is remarkably quiet all weekend. I guess I shouldn't be surprised after the events of Friday night.
We didn't get out of that place until long after the sun had come up. Then Cade, Ashton and Brandon dragged a group of the girls with them and disappeared into the den the second we got back. Of course Alex followed like a good little sheep. Apparently banging one of the strippers in full view of every motherfucker in that place wasn't enough for him for one night.
I, however, had more than had my fill of debauchery.
Watching all those old and apparently well-respected and powerful men act like complete fucking animals was not my idea of fun. The way they treated the women as if they were nothing more than a piece of meat or a plaything while their wives, the women they supposedly loved, were at home turned my stomach
.
I'd choose a night in with Mia over that any fucking night of the week.
The conversation with her father played on repeat for the entire weekend, and I argued with myself as to whether I should tell Mia about it or not. He didn't really give me any new information, just confirmed what we already knew. Something bigger is at play than we originally suspected, and Garth Thompson is very much involved in the whole thing. I can't help wondering what Phillip or Q as a whole have over him to make him agree to sell his daughter's soul and body to the devil. He's not a stupid man, so why would he do that to her? It's obvious he loves her, I could see it in his expression as he talked about her.
So why?
Why would he do this to her?
I roll over in bed and turn my alarm clock off. I don't want to go to class today. I don't want to sit there and stare at her, knowing that in only a few days she's going to be officially engaged to another man. No, not just a man. The fucking devil.
On Friday night, I'll be forced to watch the woman I've given my heart to tie herself to another. How the fuck am I meant to watch that, knowing what's going to happen after?
Anger stiffens my muscles and my teeth grind as I think of the way Cade treats women. Mia doesn't deserve to be touched like that. He'll fucking break her, and the worst thing about it?
That sick fuck will enjoy it.
"Jesus," I mutter, dragging myself up so I'm sitting on the edge of my bed.
I glance over at the cold space next to me. She should be laying there. Friday night should be our night. But it's not. And something tells me that while it's going to be the beginning of things changing for Mia and Cade, it's going to be the final nail in the coffin for the two of us.
We can keep saying things like 'it's going to be fine' or 'we'll find a way out,' but the reality is that we're just two people who are mostly naïve to the workings of Q and have no fucking clue what we're really up against.
Running my fingers through my hair, I tug until it hurts before I make my way to my bathroom to get ready for the day.
I'm the last one down to the kitchen, and every set of eyes turns my way as I step into the room.
"Ah look, it's the miserable fuck who refused to get his dick wet Friday night."
"Fuck off, Ash."
"Not all of us want the STIs that comes with fucking those whores," Channing mutters, standing up for me.
"I didn't hear you saying that while you had one on her knees," Brandon offers, making Channing's face twist in anger.
"Whatever, asshole.”
"Bacon and eggs, Mr. Easton?" Mulligan asks.
I want to say no and escape instead, but my stomach growls loud enough for him to hear and I don't get a chance to argue.
The guys remain silent as he lowers a plate before me and pours me a coffee.
"So Cade, you ready for your last week as a single man?" Ashton asks, briefly glancing at me, ensuring that I'm aware that his question is purely for my benefit.
My grip on the fork in my hand becomes painful as I lift a piece of bacon to my mouth. I force it past my lips and chew, but I barely taste it as a wicked smirk curls at Cade's lips.
"I can't wait. Friday night is going to be fucking banging."
"Someone will be banging alright," Ashton barks out before laughing at his own joke.
Everyone aside from Channing and I join in. He's the only one who has any fucking clue how I feel right now, and I couldn't be more grateful for him trusting me with the truth about him and Sasha, proving that we're on the same team here.
"There are going to be people in and out of the house all week getting things ready, setting the bedroom up, all that shit. But I expect you all here Thursday night. No fucking excuses."
"Why?" I ask, dread already sitting heavy in my stomach.
"Just want to spend some time with my nearest and dearest before the big night. That okay with you, Easton?" He raises a brow as he waits for me to argue about my attendance.
"I need to get to class," I say, shoving my mostly full plate away and standing from the table.
I might have been hungry when I first walked in, but it's safe to say that my appetite has well and truly been ruined now.
"Bex, wait," a familiar voice calls before I get to the front door.
I don't bother looking over my shoulder. I don't want to see the pity on his face or the hurt when I say what I need to say. "I'm not fucking interested, Rexford." Alex gasps at my use of his surname.
I blow through the door, and I'm racing out of the driveway in a heartbeat.
If only I could keep fucking driving and never return.
If only… I laugh to myself. There's no way I could leave Mia here to do all of this alone.
I keep my head down all fucking day. I don't even bother looking up when I know she's walked into class. I know looking at her is going to be painful, and I'm already crumbling without having to see a similar look in her eyes.
She's all set for the ceremony. When we messaged briefly yesterday evening, she told me how she'd chosen the dress the day before and how she's fallen out with her friend Annabel, although she didn't go into detail, saying that it would be easier to explain in person. Of course, I want to know. If it's upsetting her then it's important to me, but I can't help thinking that we've got bigger issues right now than that.
As promised, the house is full of random people measuring things and walking around with paint samples when I get back. Not wanting to witness any of it, I drag on a pair of sweats and my sneakers and set off out the back of the house and run until my muscles scream at me to stop. But I keep going. Anything to take away from the pain in my chest and the thoughts of what Mia's going to be put through on Friday that I have no way of rescuing her from.
By the time I get back to my room, my shirt is soaked in sweat and my entire body trembles with exertion. I need to calm the fuck down and go eat something. But going to the kitchen means seeing Cade, and if I'm forced to spend too much time with him this week then there's a chance he's going to be forced to go to his precious fucking Coglio with a black eye and a broken nose.
My fists curl at the thought, my knuckles aching in the most delicious way, imagining just how fucking satisfying it'll feel to finally show the cunt how I really feel about him.
Instead of heading down for food, I find myself in Sasha's room once again, chasing a way to force it all out of my head.
With a few little white pills and a bottle of vodka I'd stashed in my closet, I manage to wipe the rest of the day away in a pilled-up daze. If only the rest of the week would disappear quite so easily.
"What the fuck is he planning for tonight?" I ask when Channing pokes his head into my room ten minutes before we're expected downstairs for the king's little fucking pre-ceremony gathering.
"You mean aside from rubbing your face in it?" he asks, proving that every single thing both Cade and Ashton have said to me this week has been meticulously planned so they can piss me off as much as possible. It wouldn't surprise me if they had some kind of wager going on to see who can break me first.
"Yeah, aside from that."
"No fucking clue. I think he just wants to hang." Channing shrugs.
"To hang?” I balk. “When the fuck does he ever want to hang with me? Wait, don't answer that." I shove my feet into my sneakers and drop my cell into my pants pocket. "Lead the way."
Channing leads me to the den, the room where all those weeks ago Cade had me strapped to the chair while he forced me to watch him touch what's mine. Even now the memory makes my blood boil.
Walking inside, I find that everyone—minus Tim and Fawn—are already there. Sadly, that includes Brook, who makes a beeline for me. She thrusts her exposed cleavage at me as Mia watches her every move from the other side of the room.
We haven’t spoken all week, but that's not through lack of trying on her part. I've just been too intent on drowning in darkness instead of dealing with reality. As she stares at me, I can almost feel the d
esperation in her eyes. Guilt tugs at me, but even still, it's not enough to make me go over there. Instead, I lift the bottle of vodka that's hanging from my fingers and tip it to my lips, swallowing down two generous shots.
Sasha winks at me when she passes me, knowing exactly how I'm going to be feeling in a few short minutes thanks to the extra supplies she gave me earlier today.
I know that losing myself isn't the answer, but fuck, it sure hurts less than being sober and knowing exactly what's coming for me.
Tim and Fawn join us not long later, and the eleven of us sit around the room, mostly on the couches, pretending that we're just some normal college kids hanging on a normal Thursday night, but we all know that's not true. We don't need the scent of whatever Cade has once again permeated the air with to tell us that.
"Where the fuck are the girls, man? The only single one here shares my blood," Ashton grumbles.
"Didn't stop you lusting after her when Easton was balls deep inside her?" Cade's evil smirk turns my way as Mia tenses in his hold.
"I might be sick, but I draw the line at fucking her."
I lift my bottle once more, nowhere near as wasted as I need to be for these kinds of conversations.
"What about Mia? You wanna share her before you make her yours? It's hardly fair that only Easton has had a pop."
My teeth grind at his suggestion.
"Keep your fucking hands off what's mine," Cade growls at Ashton. "That was a one-off, right, Easton?" he asks me.
I don't react, and it makes his jaw clench.
"He knows what'll happen if I find out he's touched her again." His grip on Mia's hip tightens as my stomach turns over.
Mia keeps her eyes on the floor, not wanting to give anything away about the two of us. But if Cade's proved anything over the past few weeks, it's that he knows exactly what's going on under his nose, so I wouldn't be surprised that he's already aware that nothing's changed between the two of us.
"Hell yes," Brook shrieks, her voice like nails across a chalkboard, as the song changes. "Turn it up, let's dance."
It seems that either Sasha is so wasted that she doesn't care or that the stepsisters have called a temporary truce, because the pair of them climb up on the coffee table and start grinding away to the beat.