I willnotplay the role of the contemptuous creature she accuses me of being. I’ll play the innocent, devoted lover until this is through, because that’s what I am.
Brinley grips the axe with both hands, agony tensing her features as she makes her choice. She searches my face, avoiding my gaze, and chews her bottom lip.
“Come on,” I mumble under my breath, hoping she’ll reflect on the real progress we made in the house. Because this is not about the screenplay and we both know it. “Seeme.” I lower my chin to catch her eye, hoping to make her see that I’m safe. She knows the right choice, if only she’s willing to make it. When she meets my gaze at last, I give her a slow, reassuring nod.
Quickly, she looks down at my hand. It’s an indication of where her thoughts are. “If you love me,” she says, “if you’re truly what you say you are, you’ll be willing to draw your own blood to prove to me. To show…”
It’s not part of the script, but I don’t hesitate. None too gently, I rip the axe away, flatten my hand out before her, and dramatically position the blade over my palm. With one swift move, I free the capsule so it rests in the center.
Brinley’s gaze is fixed on mine as I lower the blade at last. I cup my palm enough to make the capsule burst against the axe blade. The liquid hidden in that small pill does not disappoint. Crimson fluid oozes through my fingers and down my wrist. It drips off the blade of the axe as I drop it to the ground.
Brinley gasps and throws a hand over her mouth. She glances up to meet my eyes, but I only shake my head at her.
“I am who I say I am.”
The lights go out, all of them, even the houselights. It’s black as pitch while the audience lifts a loud and thorough cheer.
I step forward cautiously, reaching for her hand. When the lights come, I’d like to be holding it. Before I can reach her, a narrow spotlight flicks on, flooding center stage with a blinding light. I wave an arm toward Brinley to give her credit for the performance, but she’s no longer there.
I’m not entirely shocked. It’s just like Brinley to run off before I can give a proper explanation. It’s exactly what she did last time. I’m tempted to run off the stage and chase her down. I’m tempted to explain it all and make her see me at last. But I don’t. If she doesn’t know me after our time together, if she’s this quick to doubt and suspect and run…neither of us will be happy.
The acknowledgment cuts a hole through my chest the size of that spotlight. I’m hollow and hurting and wishing I could undo my love for her. It hurts more than I can bear, and I hate myself for only adding to my pain.
With the crowd cheering before me, and Brinley running away from me once again, I steeple my hands together, bend at the waist toward the audience, and bow out.
CHAPTER22
Brinley
“You know this is a mistake, right?” Janis says as I drag her down the hall with me.
I don’t bother replying, only move faster as I see a sign pointing to the elevators. “You’re in the parking garage?” I ask as I rush toward the selection of brass double doors.
“That’s where I parked,” Janis assures.
We’re quick to round the corner and head for the lobby when the sight straight ahead stops me short. A familiar group of elites is gathered around a portable drinking bar. “To say I always knew she wasspecialis an understatement,” my father roars.
The group burst into laughter, but none as loud as Char’s. “Seriously,” she says. “You should have clued me in a little sooner, because I actually looked up to her once.”
I’m staring, dumbfounded and furious, when Janis yanks me back behind the wall.
“What are you doing?” I hiss.
“I’m sparing your dignity.” She glances about before nodding to a nearby door. “Let’s take the stairs instead.”
I don’t argue, just take the stairs at a jostling rate in my tattered cheer shoes and ratty uniform. It’s not until a security guard in the stairwell gives me a frightened look that I recall the lipstick smeared on my cheek.
I use my palm to rub at it while following Janis through the double doors leading to the lot.
Once we’re in the car, I play back what I saw. “I can’t believe those jerks were just standing in the hallway like that. They purposefully left the room when I went on stage? Me—their own flesh and blood.”
“Neither ofthemwas up there,” Janis says. “That’s probably why they left. Just jealous.”
I shake my head. Five days ago, while seated in this very car, I unveiled one of my motives for agreeing to come on the show. I wanted my dad and Char to see that Dawson still wants me. And though they had to at least know that much when they scurried into the hall like rats, it clearly didn’t affect their opinion of me.
“Couple of pathetic losers,” I grumble.
“Buckle up, captain.” Janis starts up the car.
