“Okay, pizza is on the way.” Mum sits down and picks up the old car piece that she always uses.
We used to spend nights like this a lot. It’s getting less and less frequent, especially with Cara being away at school. I’m fucking glad she’s home. Despite the reason she came back.
Chapter Fifteen
I’m cocooned in my bedding. I don’t want to move. I’ve stayed here all day, and if it weren’t for our housekeeper bringing me trays of food and leaving them in my living room, I wouldn’t have gotten up at all. I haven’t eaten the food. I threwmost of it in the trash, which I know is wasteful, but I can’t stomach anything.
I’ve tried to motivate myself, talk my body into moving. I just can’t. All I want to do is sleep and forget. Forget that I even exist. Forget that I fucked up and let Ares see me at a low. Forget that I could have killed him.
My parents have been in and out all day, but every time they stop by, I pretend to be asleep. That’s only going to fly for so long, though. My dad is pissed that I got drunk at Kyla’s house—well, that and the fact I got arrested.
I don’t blame him. I understand his frustration. I’m supposed to be a perfect member of society,high societyat that. And I was out street racing and getting drunk. Not the behaviour of a McKinley. No, my family likes to hide the fact they could do anything that could be seen as wrong from the public eye. It’s an image they’re selling, not the truth.
There is no way the McKinley empire would have amassed the wealth it has if the public really knew what went on behind closed doors. If they knew the reason my Great-Uncle Josh has a pig farm. If they knew whymy dadhas a pig farm. Nope, that would have my father locked behind bars with no way out.
He’s not a bad person. I love my father, and he loves and protects his family. There are no limits he won’t go to, to protect us. I’m sure if he knew who I really was, inside, he’d have me locked in a padded room with round-the-clock doctors trying to fix me. The thing is, all the money in the world can’t fix me. I’m broken and have absolutely no reason to be.
Snap out of it, Zara. You have a lot to be grateful for. You have a beautiful life, with a loving family and everything you could ever want.
This is the mental pep talk I repeat in my head. I used to think it helped. It’s not working anymore, because even though I can think of so many things I have to be grateful for, there is thatconstant voice in my head telling me I don’t deserve any of it. I’m not worthy of the life I was gifted. I’m wasting every opportunity afforded to me.
It would be easier if I just gave in, let this darkness take a full hold of me and drown me completely. How long can I fight it? It’s bound to happen eventually, right? Why not now?
I think about what my funeral would be like, who would be there. The moment I see my parents faces, guilt hits me. I shouldn’t be thinking like this. I can’t do this to them. They don’t deserve it.
A fresh wave of tears falls. I pull the blankets tighter around me. It’s as if I can’t get them tight enough. Like the way Ares hugged me in the library, so tight, as if he were scared I’d fall apart into a million pieces. He was literally trying to hold me together. I close my eyes and hope for sleep to overtake me.
“Zara, you gotta wake up.” A hand brushes the hair away from my face.
Blinking my eyes open, I find my father sitting on the edge of my bed. “What time is it?” I ask.
“Seven. You need to get ready for school,” he says.
“I don’t want to go.” I pull the blankets to my chin. I don’t want to have to face Ares or Constance. I bet by now, everyone knows I was arrested. I’m going to be the hot topic of the school. As if the attention Ares had been showing me wasn’t enough to make me the centre of the gossip mill.
“You’re not skipping school,” Dad says. “I’m taking your car keys, and you’re using the driver. To and from school every day until I think you deserve the keys and independence back.”
“Okay.” I don’t argue. There’s no point.
“What you did was reckless, Zara. You could have been hurt,” he reminds me.
There’s that guilt again.
“I don’t care about the car. I don’t care about you getting arrested. Actually, that I do care about. The point is, I care about you, Zara. I don’t want you doing reckless shit for fun. I like you being in one piece. I couldn’t imagine what I’d do if anything were to happen to you.”
My dad’s words make me tear up. I sit higher on the bed, fling my arms around his neck, and hug him. “I’m sorry.” I sob.
His hands rub along my back. “Fuck, I hate when you cry,” he whispers. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”
“I’m so sorry.” I’m apologising for a lot more than he realises. I’m apologising because I could have been hurt, but it wouldn’t have been an accident. I would have done it on purpose.
“Shh, I love you. Your mother loves you and your sister loves you.”
“I’m a mess.”
“No, you’re not. You are perfect just the way you are, sweetheart. And if anyone tells you otherwise, send them my way. My pigs are hungry,” he says.
I’m far from perfect, but I keep that thought in my head. Inhaling a deep, shaky breath, I let go of my father and move back against the pillows. “I’ll get ready for school.”
