My fingers curl in.
Beverly laughs at my hard expression, her nail trapped between her teeth as she lets her gaze fall down my body. “Angry puppy.”
I swear my temples throb for different reasons now.
“Here’s how it’ll go, baby.” She pushes off the door, closing the small distance between us. “You won’t see your little plaything again, understood? Not unless you want her to see what happened here now.” She glances to the side, and I follow her line of sight to a small stuffed animal on the bookshelf. Its eyes stare at us.
“Before you try to do anything, don’t. The recording is saved remotely, somewhere you can’t access it.”
I stare hard at that stuffed animal to keep my composure because if I look at her, if I see the smug victory in her eyes, I’ll fucking lose it.
“It certainly doesn’t look in that clip like you’re being coerced, does it, puppy?” She annunciates the P’s as she walks her nails down my contracting abs. “Then fuckingtake it,” she mimics with a perverse smile in her tone.
I grow still. Too still. I shouldn’t have said that. Now I’ll hang by my own noose.
With a final little tap on my chest, she walks around me to find her clothes, and I stay where I am as the rustle of her dressing sounds behind me.
On her way out, she grabs the stuffed teddy and blows me a kiss. “See you again soon, Puppy.”
And then she gives a quick yipping bark and exits the room.
I slam the door shut behind her, hard enough to break the hinges. As her clicking heels fade, I sweep all the books off the shelves and push the bookshelf over with an anguished roar that claws its way up my throat.
For the first time, I don’t know what the fuck to do. The walls are closing in from all sides. I see no way out.
TWENTY-FOUR
JESSICA
It’s late evening. Chris and his friends have headed to Dark Lanes, which means I’m out from under his thumb for a couple of hours.
Rain shows up shortly after I’ve finished showering after my run. As I open the door to her incessant knocking, dressed in a towel, I’m met with a sparkly glint in her eye and a bottle of vodka she no doubt stole from some random gas station.
“Ready to get into trouble?” she asks, looking drop-dead gorgeous in a short, tight red dress made of shiny fabric. I gawk at the spaghetti straps and ruched sides, with drawstrings that let you tighten or loosen it.
“I know,” she says. “I look fabulous.” Then she saunters past, like a cat model in high heels, to put on some dance music.
“Rain?” I ask, shutting the door as Summer joins us in one of Chris’s oversized hoodies and joggers.
“Hmm?” The girl finds a song she likes and begins to sway her hips to the slow beat, bottle in hand.
“Who are you dressed up for?”
She stops dancing and looks down at herself. “Can a girl not wear a pretty dress?”
Summer and I exchange a knowing glance. We’ve been friends with Rain since we were little. While she always looks good, she’s dressed to kill tonight, and I wonder which poor guy has gotten on her wrong side. Whoever they are, they’ll be on their knees by the end of the evening.
Rain drinks straight from the bottle, then holds it out for me. I accept, sniffing the alcohol first and making a face.
“I can’t drink this neat.”
“Of course you can. You’re from the Falls. We’re not prissy like those Heights bitches.”
My brows jump, and I glance up to see her rooting through her purse for a pocket mirror. Something is up with her tonight.
As she checks her makeup, I take a quick swig and choke on the bitter alcohol, then hand the bottle to Summer, who holds it but doesn’t drink.
Rain puts the mirror back in her purse and looks at us. “What are you waiting for? We’re heading out.”
