Chapter 22
Maeve
Anagapesis (n) no longer feeling any affection for someone you once loved
Anger.
Red hot anger.
I am beyond angry, actually. I just hope for her sake she walks in here like a normal, respectable human, but who am I kidding? It’s Nessa.
The tall oak doors swing open, and she struts in as though she owns the place.
Arrogant bitch.
Her dark hair is pulled into a high ponytail, sunglasses perched on top of her head. Her usual accessories—necklaces, rings, and earrings—are missing. The guys had stripped her of all of her belongings before she was allowed in. She’s wearing a hot pink lipstick that looks like it was pulled out of a kids' makeup kit, and she had done a piss-poor job at blending her contour. She was usually good at this kind of stuff, but today was not one of those days. She’s wearing a dress that is too short and too tight for the weather, along with ridiculous six-inch heels. You’d think she was getting ready to go clubbing, even if it was just after three in the afternoon.
She strides toward where I’m sitting on the arm of the couch. Callum is lounging beside me on the cushion. His ankle rests on one knee, one arm slung casually along the back, and the other resting on the small of my back, tracing lazy circles. She pauses on the edge of the rug in the center of the display, but it only lasts for a heartbeat.
“What the fuck, Maeve?” she whines nasally. I just stare at her with a flat, unamused expression and let her fill the silence.
“Are you fucking deaf now? Why haven’t you returned my calls?” She pauses expectantly.
I give her nothing.
“Hello? All of a sudden, you can’t speak either?”
Still nothing. I know I’m making her blood boil. Good. She’ll begin to falter and say something stupid. She’s too easy, too arrogant, too naive. Always has been. She turns her attention to Callum this time.Wrong choice.
“What lies have you told her, Callum? Was this your whole plan? To turn her against me?”
Callum's hand pauses on my back, and I reach down without looking and place my hand on his chest, silently telling him that I have this. I put my hands on my knees and just stare at her for a moment. Her posture shifts from defensive to insecure as she begins to fidget nervously. I smirk, straightening my skirt as I stand.
I slowly walk toward her, and she begins to shift uncomfortably the closer I get. I look her up and down as I slowly circle her, and I catchCallum's devious grin that he attempts to cover by rubbing his lips with his fingers.
I come to a stop in front of her, staring down at her for a moment. I allow a gentle smile to pull at my lips as I reach up and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, looking over her face. Her pupils dilate, and if fear were a scent, it would be rolling off her. I can tell she doesn’t trust the gentle persona I’m showing her.
As I stare at her, memories come flooding back from the evening of the party, and I can’t believe it has taken me this long to realize that she had planned the entire thing. Had planned it and brought other people into it too.Fucking bitch.
16 Years Old
Nessa walked out of my closet holding a light pink dress I usually wore around Callum. It was his favorite. I was almost finished doing my hair, and I had already done Nessa’s hair. She insisted that I style her hair the way I do mine, something about not wanting to overheat her new dye job. I wasn’t sure how I felt about her hair color being so similar to mine, but I figured she’d tire of it and go back to her dark colors before too long.
“Do you really want to be wearing the same color?” I asked her. Usually, she told me that we couldn’t both wear the same color. She thought matching was weird and seemed planned out, corny.
“It’s not that big of a deal,” she says flippantly as she holds my dress up to her body, studying the effect in the mirror.
“Ness, you literally told me last week that I couldn’t wear my leather jacket because you were already wearing yours,” I said, raising my brows in question.
“I look better in leather is all, but we both look gorgeous in pink,” she said, brushing me off. She extended the dress out to me before she went back to the closet to pick out a pair of heels.
"Absolutely not," I said. Heels were a no-go for me, and I intended to wear my Vans.
Once we were ready, we loaded into Orin’s SUV, and he looked at Nessa with his lip curled. He didn’t like her one bit. She tended to try to boss him around, asking him tofetchthings for her.
“Remember, you have to be back by one,” Orin reminded me, looking at me through the rearview mirror. “I don’t want to have to explain anything to the next shift.”
“I know. I’ll make sure to give us plenty of time to—”
