She can’t be serious.
I slice my hand in front of me as confusion turns to anger. “Let me get this straight. You hated me—you hurt me—because you’re jealous of something that never even existed? Mom and Dad loved you. Natalie loves you. What happened with Jordan and Chase is because you cheated on them. You, not me.”
Her sharp bark of laughter is filled with animosity and scorn. “Jordan is only sleeping with you because he can’t have me. Chase is using you because he wants me back. You’re stupid if you think they care about you. Look at you.” She traces a derisory finger through the air at me. “You’re fat, ugly, and disgusting. I bet Jordan has to close his eyes whenever he fucks you, so he can imagine it’s me under him.”
Stupid, pathetic, ugly, fat, worthless, disgusting.
Her nasty words pierce my heart just like she knew they would. But this time, I don’t believe her.
Wanting to get this confrontation over with so I can leave and get the hell out of here, I tell her, “I know it was you.”
Amelia brushes her strawberry-blonde hair over her shoulder. Her caked-on makeup is beginning to bubble off from the sweat coating her face.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You knowexactlywhat I’m talking about.”
She takes a threatening step forward, trying to intimidate me, make me cower and fill with fear. She used to get off on my pain. Laugh as she hit me, burned me, hurt me.
“I’d advise you not to come any closer.” My voice is steeled and strong. “Unless you want me to lay you flat on your ass.” After she tried to hit me in front of Jordan and I subdued her, she knows my threat is serious. “Why did you do it? Natalie took us in. Gave us a home and loved us like her own. She gave you money, supported you, and never asked you for anything in return. So I want to know why you could do that to her? What if she’d been home? You could have killed her!” I shout, my fury rising with every word. “Do you feel any remorse? Any guilt or regret?”
Amelia’s dark-red glossed lips pull back in a sneer. “She should have given me the money. She shouldn’t have taken your side.”
“You drive a hundred-thousand-dollar Mercedes! You could have sold it if you were that desperate. You didn’t have to set her house on fire! She lost everything. Don’t you care?”
I want to slap the bored, indifferent look off Amelia’s face. Her expression is full of pure evil, her smile ugly.
“That bitch got what was coming to her. She turned on me, so I repaid her in kind. I burned her fucking house to the ground. And. It. Was. Beautiful,” she says with such pride, it makes me sick to my stomach. My sister is a sociopath.
It takes me several seconds to catch my breath and unclench my fists. I need to remain calm. I can’t screw this up. It’s almost over.
“Thank you,” I tell her, and she appears bewildered at my words of gratitude.
We both look over when the door to the room swings open. Instantly, the air electrifies when a tall, dark-blond man walks in, his pale blue eyes glowing in the dim light. He reminds me of the old biblical saying: “Beware the devil that disguises itself as an angel of light.” Stunningly gorgeous. And deceptively deadly.
Amelia and I both stare dumbfounded at the man. Who the heck is this? Jordan said he’d be waiting right outside. That was the plan.
The stranger saunters past Amelia and walks directly up to me. I gulp and peer up at him, not understanding what’s going on right now.
“Where’s Jordan?”
His soft, deep voice both chills and excites me. He sounds like Jordan, but more lethal, if that makes sense.
“Right outside,” the man answers, looking me over like a bug under a microscope.
“Who the fuck are you?” Amelia screeches, but he doesn’t pay any attention to her.
Talking to me, he says, “Jordan called me. I’m his brother, Fallon.”
Oh shit.
Harper mentioned one night that meeting her brother Fallon for the first time was like how a mouse must feel when being stalked by a hungry lion. I laughed at her analogy. Now I get it. There’s something about Fallon Montgomery, an air of danger and menace surrounding him; it’s scary as hell.
“Nice to meet you?” I say, but it comes out meek and sounding more like a question.
Fallon turns and walks back over to the door. What is he doing? He’s leaving? What on earth is going on? This wasn’t part of the plan.
Just as he pushes the handle to open the door, I call out, “Wait! Did you get it?”
