Is this what he’s done, whittled me down to a stub, turned me into someone I never would’ve recognized just a few months ago?
“Something’s going on, Elle,” Mom says sternly. “You’ve been acting strange for weeks. Now this…” She waves a hand at the window, as if to say,Your destiny is out there and you’re letting it pass you by.“Please, tell me.”
I open my mouth, try to force the words out, to tell her that while gigging at an event, I made eye contact with a spoiled mafia prince named Lucian, and that he came on to me when he approached me. I told him no. I could tell her that men like Lucian don’t take no for an answer, and that he’s insane and rotten down to his core. That he thinks I owe him something just because I hurt his pride.
She pulls up a chair and takes my hand. “Oh, Elle, look at you. You’re shaking.”
The note is practically burning a hole in my pocket.
I’ll burn down that gallery, you stupid slut. You think you’re some career bitch, eh? We’ll see about that. You’re MY bitch now.
That’s the reason I can’t go. He might be bluffing…or he could be telling the truth.
“I’m fine,” I whisper.
“Sissy!”
I turn at the sound of Mira’s voice. She’s on Dad’s shoulder, pretty as a peach in her gold ruffled dress, a similar shade to her—to our—eyes. Dad’s wearing his best suit, an unsure smile on his face. He raises an eyebrow at Mom. Mom shakes her head at his unspoken question.
“Hey, you,” Dad says, lifting Mira off his shoulder and cradling her in his arms. “How about we watchanotherepisode, huh?”
“It’s so late!” Mira says, giggling.
“Is that a no?”
“No, silly, it’s amegayes.”
Dad chuckles, but the corner of his mouth tugs. He glances at me sadly.
“Elle,” Mom shuffles her chair closer. “You’ve been withdrawn. The other day, I closed the fridge door, and you flinched, sweetness.Flinched. Whatever’s happening?—”
A car alarm blares from the front of the house.
Something in me finally snaps. The rage I’ve kept buried under layers of fear finally surges forward. I leap to my feet, fists clenched, as the alarm screams through the house.
“Elle!” Mom yells after me.
I ignore her, run to the front door before I can talk myself out of it. I caught a glimpse of myself in the hallway mirror. The shirt I picked out especially for this event, with little camera decals on the collar, and the pants I squeezed into, wondering if they were too tight, so excited, so hopeful. Then his note arrived, shattering all of it.
I run into the dark. Behind me, the porch light clicks on.
Lucian steps forward, tall, with a sharp jawline and arctic blue eyes. I remember thinking for a brief, ugly moment that he was handsome before he revealed who he really was. He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
He stands next to Dad’s car, and its window is shattered.
“Get away from here,” I say, panic threatening to close my throat.
He tilts his head and smirks. “You don’t mean that.”
“I mean it. Go!”
He laughs as I rush toward him. I’ve got no idea what I’m going to do. I just know this has to stop, that I hate myself for letting it go on for so long. And I hate that thought, that this ismyfault.
“Easy, tiger,” he snaps, punching me right in the face.
I fall, hit my head, and catch a brief glimpse of the stars before unconsciousness takes me.
When I wake, my life is over.
