However, instead of giving her those expensive fucking diamonds, he would sell them to cover the damages to the rental and the expense of a wasted fucking trip.
Rory’s boxers were in a twist because he blamed Daddy’s absence on Mama’s sudden departure for an out-of-town meeting. Although Mattie couldn’t believe her brother was that stupid and she missed her mother, she was happy Daddy left, too.
It would’ve been very awkward to have him there because he would’ve forced her to go to school, made her sit in the dining room for dinner, and attempted to be nice. He wouldn’t have understood that Mattie wanted to stay in her room, hiding under the covers, never to be heard from again.
Wishing she’d never seen those stupid videos made her feel horrible and selfish. That meant Harley’s abuse would’ve continued as wouldRebel’s invasion of privacy. But seeing herself strut out of her bathroom and prance around her room without clothes, knowing those videos had been viewed after what happened to her with Wally, Jr., and Bash, and Billy and Eric, and Wally III left Mattie cold inside. It made her wonder if perhaps Daddy hadn’t been right and girls who acted a certain way were seen as whores and attracted the type of attention they deserved.
She didn’t want to be that girl with a bad reputation. Exactly what Daddy always warned her she’d become if she didn’t act as he demanded.
The bells of Westminster Abbey serenaded Mattie, and she turned on her side. Someone was at the door. She couldn’t care less. Ella or whoever was home would answer. Mattie didn’t know if Rory or JJ had gone to school.
Once Mama left, JJ went to his room and moped the entirety of yesterday. Once Daddy left, Rory lost his shit and called Mama a name, which Mattie took extreme exception to. They got into a bad argument, the type Rebel usually had with her brothers, but Mattie had always been spared because Rory had been so loving and protective.
Until he wasn’t.
So, yes, her room was perfectly fine.
“Mattie?” Grant called as he knocked on her door.
Sliding the covers to her neck, Mattie blinked at her closed door, white like her bedroom set, desk, and the molding. Everything else—walls, carpeting, curtain, desk chair, and the padded bench at the foot of her bed—were pink.
She really hated the color pink.
“Mattie?”
“Uh, come in,” she called, not bothering to sit up because she didn’t have the energy.
Grant walked in, carrying a bouquet of red roses. He was Mattie’s first crush, back when she’d believed in nice guys. Blond and strapping, he was just beautiful to her with his honey colored hair and amber eyes. Seeing her in bed, he halted and frowned. “You were sleeping?”
“Nope. I’m wide awake.” She still didn’t move the covers or sit up. “Are those for me?”
Nodding, he walked to her dresser and set the vase down.
“I’ve never gotten flowers before.”
Grant craned his neck in all directions, taking in her four walls, her floor, her ceiling, and her furniture.
“Thank you.”
“Huh? Uh, oh, yeah. You’re welcome,” he said, still distracted.
“My room is quite pink,” she said.
He met her gaze, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I was thinking the same thing.”
“Daddy’s idea.”
“That explains it then.”
“Not really. He isn’t the one living inside of a Pepto Bismal bottle.”
Grant laughed.
Her insides unclenching slightly, Mattie shoved her covers down a little more. Her long, Victorian-era nightgown wouldn’t show anything, not even her throat, so she was safe. “How’d you know I was home?”
“I didn’t. I was just dropping the flowers off, but Ella said you were here and your dad is out of town, so I asked if I could bring them to you.”
“You know my birthday is months away.”
