by Ivy Smoak
“Please don’t tell me you kissed Mason. I already lost my two best friends. I don’t want to fight with my brother too.” He rubbed his thumb along my cheek. “I love your freckles.”
I smiled underneath his hand. “I didn’t kiss Mason. And I love your 5-o’clock shadow.”
He lifted his hand and ran it across his jaw. “Yeah?”
“It looks good on you.”
“I guess I’ll keep it then.” He smiled down at me.
“So you really don’t remember our conversation at all last night?”
“Just bits and pieces.”
“Do you remember that I kissed James?” I cringed as I said it.
“That’s a little hard to forget.”
This seemed like the best place to start. It was easier to tackle than the Miller thing. I’d gone to James for help. Matt would understand that.
“Did they score again?” my dad asked as he sat back down on the couch.
“Yeah,” Matt said, even though he hadn’t been watching the game. “Mr. Pruitt?” He looked over at him.
“Yes, Matthew?”
“While you’re fixing up the security at your place, could Brooklyn come stay at my house?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
As much as I loved being surrounded by my mom’s old things…I wanted to go with Matt. Mr. Pruitt didn’t let boys spend the night. It was one of the only rules I knew. But I had a feeling Matt’s house would be different. I missed falling asleep in his arms. I didn’t want to have to spend the night here without him. “Please, Dad?”
His eyes softened. “Is that what you want?” he asked.
I nodded.
Mr. Pruitt looked back at Matt. “Do you still have that security system?”
“Yes,” Matt said.
“And you’ll let me send a few of my own people?”
“I’m sure that will be fine.”
“Well, let me call your mother to make sure it’s okay. Separate beds though, yes?”
“Of course, sir,” Matt said.
I hoped he was lying.
“I’m serious about the sleeping arrangements,” Mr. Pruitt said, as if he could read my thoughts.
“As am I,” Matt said.
Mr. Pruitt nodded. “I’ll call your mother then. Maybe we can head over after the game?”
“That would be great,” I said. “And maybe we can swing by Kennedy’s to check on her?”
“She’s resting. How about you wait to chat with her until tomorrow when she’s feeling better?”
“Oh. Okay.” I wanted to press it, but he was already letting me stay with Matt. I had to take that win. I just hoped Kennedy was feeling better soon because I missed her terribly.
My father pulled his phone out of his pocket and stood up. “I’ll be right back.”
“Separate beds?” I whispered up to Matt.
“No. I’m not letting you out of my sight after last night. I just knew your dad wouldn’t approve.”
A little white lie was worth getting to be back in his arms where I belonged.
He ran his fingers across my bottom lip again. “I swear I’m going to protect you, Brooklyn. Nothing bad is ever going to happen to you again. I promise.”
I believed him. He used to lie to me. But there was nothing to lie about now. And as soon as I told him about Miller, we’d have no secrets.
“Miller and Donnelley will be here to drive you over,” my dad said.
Oh God.
“I’ll want them both to secure the perimeter for the night.”
I wasn’t sure which was worse. Miller having to escort me to Matt’s before I’d had a chance to talk to him, or Donnelley because he was freaking in Isabella’s pocket. “But Donnelley…”
“Has been taught a lesson,” my dad said. “He won’t let anything bad happen to you ever again. And he had valuable information about Isabella’s plans. You can trust him. He knows the consequences if he steps out of line again.”
I had no idea what he meant by any of that. But I didn’t like the sound of it. Especially the fact that plans was plural. What else had Isabella been planning?
“You okay?” Matt asked.
“Mhm.” But my voice came out weird and high-pitched. I couldn’t tell Matt about Miller in front of my dad. Or else Miller would get fired. And I wouldn’t get a chance to tell Miller that I was choosing Matt before seeing him. It was a disaster.
***
Oh my God. I stared at Miller who was leaning against the car. His face was barely recognizable. There were so many bruises and cuts. He stared at me like he was dying. And I didn’t know if it because of his physical pain, or if it was just killing him to see me with Matt.
I looked at Donnelley in the driver seat. If anything, he looked worse. Is that what it looks like when Mr. Pruitt teaches someone a lesson? A chill ran down my spine. And why had he done it to Miller? Or had someone else done that to Miller last night? He’d disappeared. I’d thought he was mad at me…but what if he’d been in trouble? He’d needed me and I hadn’t been there.
“You okay?” Matt asked and slipped his hand into mine.
The look on Miller’s face said it all. He was angry and sad and hurt. So freaking hurt.
I looked down at my feet. “Yeah.”
“Miller and Donnelley, check out the Caldwells’ security system,” my dad said. “If there are any weak points, notify me right away. Otherwise, I expect you to do surveillance for the evening. And Brooklyn needs her rest, so she won’t be going to school tomorrow. You bring her right back here in the morning.”
“I’m skipping school tomorrow,” Matt said. “To take care of her.”
My dad nodded and turned back to Miller. “Very well. I’ll have someone switch out with you two in the morning. Got it?”
“Yes sir,” Miller said.
My dad leaned down and hugged me. “If you need anything, call me,” he said. “Anything at all, okay?”
“Okay.” My voice sounded strangled. I wanted to yell at him for what he had done to Donnelley and maybe Miller too. But I didn’t know what to say.
He kissed my cheek and then climbed into his town car.
Matt grabbed the back door and opened it when Miller didn’t move. “After you,” he said with a smile.
I didn’t move. I couldn’t move. “Did my dad do that to you?” I asked Miller.
“Your dad?” He seemed confused by what I’d called Mr. Pruitt. And then he looked down at my hand in Matt’s. He shook his head. For a few seconds, he didn’t say anything at all. But his silence was loud and clear.
“Miller…”
“Miss Pruitt, please get in,” Miller said, cutting me off. “And make sure to buckle your seatbelt.”
Miss Pruitt. The words felt like a knife in my chest.
“Come on, Brooklyn,” Matt said. “I’ll help you.” He lifted me into his arms like the reason I wasn’t moving was because I was in pain.
I was. Just not the way he thought. I blinked away the tears in my eyes.
Miller slammed the door behind us.
Miss Pruitt. Did Miller seriously think I was like them? I was still a Sanders. I was. Right?
I looked at the front seat where Donnelley was sitting. He flinched under my gaze. Was he scared of me?
Matt put his arm around my shoulders, oblivious to how Donnelley and Miller were acting. If this was what it felt like to be elite, I didn’t want anything to do with it.
Chapter 7
Sunday
The car came to a stop on the circular driveway. I looked out the window. The first time I’d been to Matt’s mansion, everything had seemed sinister. The gargoyles didn’t look quite as menacing during the day. Besides, he was here with me. I looked at the front seat. And Miller. My stomach twisted in knots.
“Ready to meet my parents?” Matt asked.
Not really. I felt like I was going to be sick. How could I meet his parents when I had been in Miller’s bed just a couple d
ays ago? And I was wearing my mom’s squirrel pajamas. I’d added a jean jacket to it that had been in the room with all my mom’s things. But none of it could be classified as ready to meet the parents attire.
I wanted to ask for a moment alone with Miller. But then Donnelley would be suspicious. And I couldn’t ask for Matt to go for a walk so I could tell him about Miller. I could barely even stand on my stupid feet.
“I’m going to go check out the security system,” Miller said and unbuckled his seatbelt. “Donnelley will stay with you.”
I swallowed hard.
“You have nothing to be nervous about,” Matt said as Miller climbed out of the car. “My parents are going to love you.”
Are they? Matt hated the Pruitts. He said his father used to be in business with my dad but they’d had a falling out. Did his parents think the Pruitts were as toxic as their son did?
Matt opened up the back door and held out his hand for me. I grabbed his hand and immediately felt a little calmer. Before I could step down, he lifted me up in his arms and I laughed as he spun me in a circle.
He carried me up to the front door, past the bushes trimmed to look like gargoyles. The inside of his house was just as spooky as I remembered. It really seemed like whoever had decorated my dad’s apartment had also done the decorating for this one. Dark marble floors. Dark red wallpaper. Black and white pictures on the walls in what were probably pure gold frames.
I trained my eyes on Matt instead of the chandelier above us. And I swore he winced when he walked beneath it. What a cruel daily reminder of losing his aunt. How could his family stay here after that? How could they keep the chandelier?
But my thoughts trailed away as Matt pushed through a door down the dark hallway. The light was suddenly blinding. A complete contrast to the horrifying foyer, ballroom, and bedrooms of this place. We were standing in a light and airy kitchen. Everything was still ornate, but the colors were more white and gray instead of blood red. There were skylights in the ceiling, letting in the final rays of the setting sun. And there was music filtering through a sound system.
Mrs. Caldwell was humming to the music as she watched something on the stove.
“Hey, Mom,” Matt said.
She spun around with a huge smile on her face. “You must be Brooklyn,” Mrs. Caldwell said as Matt set me down on my feet. “I’m Matthew’s mom.”
“It’s so nice to meet you.” I put out my hand.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She wrapped me up in a hug. A real one. Like the kind Mrs. Alcaraz gave. I closed my eyes for a moment. Like the kind my mom used to give me.
“Matthew mentioned that you love hot chocolate,” she said as she pulled away.
I smiled at him. He’d remembered my story of my mom always making it for me on snowy days. A cup right now sounded like the most comforting thing in the world. “I love hot chocolate.”
“Give me one second. The milk is almost done heating. Sit down, sit down.”
Matt grabbed my hand and pulled me over to their kitchen table. This room was not at all what I was expecting. It seemed a lot more like the staff’s kitchen at my dad’s place. It just felt…light.
Mrs. Caldwell started humming again as she stirred the milk in the saucepan.
It felt like a home. Mrs. Caldwell was in her element at the stove. This room felt like an extension of her. Which meant the rest of the house was an extension of her husband maybe?
“Where’s your dad?” I asked.
“Probably finishing up some work,” Matt said.
On a Sunday?
“And are you Donnelley or Miller?” Mrs. Caldwell asked, suddenly realizing there was another person in the room.
“Donnelley, ma’am,” he said.
“Well, go on and take a seat too.”
“I’m alright,” he said. “I’m just going to stay right here.”
“Nonsense. I’ve made plenty.”
Donnelley looked over at me like he was asking my permission. So now he wanted to know my opinion? He didn’t seem to care when there was a gun pointed at my head. But I couldn’t be mad at him. I knew Isabella was blackmailing him. And he’d gone straight to my father after the fact. And his face looked absolutely awful. Was the rest of him that beat up?
I patted the seat beside me. I wasn’t Isabella. I wasn’t a monster. And it looked like he was in as much pain as me. The worst part was that I was pretty sure my father had done it to him. Donnelley smiled and made his way over.
Mason wandered into the kitchen. His plaid pajama bottoms made me suddenly feel a lot less out of place. “Something smells good, Mom” he said.
“It’ll just be another minute.” She continued to stir. “Brooklyn is here. Have the two of you already met?”
Mason smiled over at me. “Yeah, we’ve met.” He patted Matt on the back before giving me a side hug. He sat down in the seat across from me. “You decided to come join us after all?”
“Mhm.” I’d forgotten how nice he’d been last night. Standing up for me in front of Isabella. Inviting me to stay with them so that I could avoid her. I should have taken him up on the offer immediately. I could have avoided a half-naked run around the city.
“So…” he said, his voice trailing off. “Are you okay?”
Matt put his arm behind me, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” I said. “Last night was definitely a little scary.”
“Are the rumors true?”
“What rumors?” I asked. Oh God, what were people already saying?
“Mason,” his mom said and put down a tray of hot chocolate. “Don’t antagonize Matthew’s girlfriend.”
I could feel my cheeks blushing. I kind of wanted to know what people were saying. But it probably involved the words whore or prostitute, so maybe it was better if I didn’t know.
“What happened to your face?” Mason asked Donnelley.
“Mason,” his mom scolded again. “Where are your manners?”
“It’s okay, ma’am,” Donnelley said. “I made a mistake last night.” He looked down at me. “I’m really sorry, Brooklyn. It won’t happen again.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” I said.
“Either way. You’re safe under my watch.”
Mrs. Caldwell looked uncomfortable. Matt pulled me closer like he was the one in charge of protecting me. And Mason still looked really curious.
“A mistake?” Mason asked. “How did a mistake lead to your face getting beat in?”
“Well, Mr. Pruitt…” Donnelley’s voice trailed off when someone cleared their throat behind us.
I turned to see a much older version of Matt staring at us. And he didn’t look very pleased.
“Dad,” Matt said. “This is my girlfriend Brooklyn. Brooklyn, this is my dad.”
Even if I wasn’t hurt, I wasn’t sure I would have stood up. Because Matt’s father didn’t exactly look happy to see me. “Hi.” My voice sounded so small.
“You told me her last name was Sanders,” Mr. Caldwell said, not acknowledging me at all.
“Yeah,” Matt said. “Brooklyn Sanders.”
He shook his head. “Then what is one of Richard’s watchdogs doing sitting in my kitchen?” He gestured toward Donnelley.
“Max!” Mrs. Caldwell said.
He held up his hand. “Brooklyn, I’m very sorry, but we are going to have to politely decline our previous offer of you staying here. My very charming wife and son have misled me. Please have your bodyguard show you out.” He stepped to the side, dismissing me.
“Dad, Brooklyn is a Sanders. She…”
“Sanders? Really? You didn’t think I’d find out who she really was? You don’t think I heard the rumors of that asshole having an illegitimate daughter? It doesn’t matter what her last name is, she has Pruitt blood in her veins.” He turned to his wife. “Did you know about this?”
“Yes, but…”
“I won’t have a Pruitt sleeping in our house. Or let his thugs stick t
heir noses in my security system. Do you want to get us all killed?!”
“Maxwell!” Mrs. Caldwell yelled and stood up. “Enough.” She walked over to him and grabbed his arm. “We’ll discuss this in private. Not in front of the kids.”
“I want her out of here,” he said. “By the time I come back.”
Mrs. Caldwell pulled him out of the kitchen back into the sinister portion of the house where he’d come from.
Donnelley cleared his throat. “I’m going to go check in with Miller. I’ll be right back.” He walked away before any of us even had a chance to protest.
“Cheers,” Mason said and held up a cup of hot chocolate. “Welcome to the family, Brooklyn.”
Matt groaned and leaned his head back on his chair. “Why does Dad have to be such a dick?”
“You didn’t tell him I was a Pruitt?” I tried to search his face. I’d thought he was embarrassed of me when I was a nobody. But being a Pruitt somehow seemed worse.
“You’re not a Pruitt,” he said, lifting his head. “You’re a Sanders, baby.”
I wasn’t entirely certain that was true. I was pretty sure my dad had changed my last name without my permission.
“Don’t leave me hanging,” Mason said, his cup still outstretched. “I’ve always thought having a little sister would be fun. You’re already taking the heat off my back.” He laughed and tapped his mug against the one in front of me, even though I hadn’t lifted it up.
“This isn’t funny,” Matt said. “Dad can’t make her leave. You saw what Mr. Pruitt does to people that go against him in some way. Brooklyn can’t live with that nutcase.”
“My dad would never hurt me,” I said. I trusted him as much as I trusted Matt.
“Maybe not. But Isabella tried to freaking kill you last night. You’re not going back to their apartment.”
I didn’t want to cause a mess with Matt and his family. But even though I wasn’t scared of my dad, I was still scared of Isabella. He was right, I couldn’t go back. Not until the new security was in place. And even then, I’d have a lot of questions about it before I’d ever feel safe there again. Again? I shook my head. I’d never felt safe there.
“Dad’s not going to kick her out,” Mason said. “Not if Mom doesn’t want him to. Let’s circle back to the rumors. Did you really run around homecoming completely naked?”