“Great. So that means I get you all to myself.”
And to steer me away from the impending sadness, she talks about literally anything else. Starts to tell me about life after her graduation. The new, if unimpressive, agent she’s signed with. The manic pixie dream girl she’s grown bored of and plans to break up with. And it feels like we’re Care and Natty again, gabbing about the good and bad stuff. When the front door clicks open and shut, I’m fleetingly confused more than anything else. An optimistic part of me wonders if Emily’s text was a misdirect so she could surprise me. Has somehow let herself in. But then I recognize the familiar heavy footsteps in the hallway. I hate that my body immediately goes rigid with fear. Again, I’m reduced to being a quiet, fragile mess. I hate this. I hate that he’s made me this.
He says nothing at first, just storms into the kitchen, eyes clearly scanning. They stop when they land on Claire and me, frozen. For a moment, he looks disappointed, but he soon finds his voice.
“What’s she doing here?”
“No ‘hello,’ then,” Claire says. I’m alarmed to see that her hackles are already up. I can almost hear her hissing.
“I thought you were going away for the weekend. I thought it might be nice to have some company.”
“Hi,” Claire says.
George quickly scans the room once more and then stares at me. “Trip’s canceled.”
It’s late and he stinks of beer, so he’s certainly been somewhere. But the timing, the expectant look he wore when he entered the room…I’m beginning to suspect that there was no trip, only a trap. Claire is not quite what he expected to catch in it.
“Who did you say you were going away with again?”
He ignores the question. “What are you up to?”
“She just told you, genius.” My sister jumps in.
“Anyway, I could ask you the same question,” I say, throwing myself into George’s crosshairs. I didn’t like the way he was glowering at Claire. But now I don’t like the way he’s glowering at me.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s just…” I can’t keep letting these men make a fool of me. “It’s just a bit sus that you’ve announced this trip out of the blue and come home in the middle of the night on the first day, stinking of booze. Something isn’t adding up.”
He smiles, and I’m reminded that a smile can be ugly. “If anyone here is up to something, it’s you. Why would you sneak your sister into my house without telling me about it? What were you two talking about?”
Claire’s stool groans as she scrapes it back a few inches. She doesn’t actually stand, but every part of her body looks ready to spring up.
“What are you scared of her telling me?” she asks.
George glances between the two of us. “Seriously, Nat. What have you been saying?”
This isn’t how I want this to go. Sure, I can be brave, but not stupid.George is bigger than the both of us, drunk, and has already proven he’s capable of violence. “Why don’t you sleep this off, and—”
To my shock, he’s actually turning to leave the room, when—
“You’re lucky you’re not in prison right now,” Claire calls out.
“What?” He swivels around again, fresh anger in his eyes.
“I said you’re lucky. She told me what you did to her.” She finally stands, and her eyes are burning, too. “You deserve to fucking rot.”
His smile returns, although there’s no light behind it. “And what exactly is it that I’m meant to have done to Natalie?” He looks to me. “Well? What have you said?”
“It’s nothing. Go to bed, and we can—”
“It’s not ‘nothing.’ ” A crack echoes through the room as Claire slams her wineglass to the counter. A segment from the foot goes skidding across the marble counter. “You raped her.”
He actually laughs this time. My stomach gurgles like it’s alive. I feel physically sick, but in the churning of my guts, I can feel my monster waking.
“Is that funny to you?” Claire asks.
“Actually, it’s not. Not if you’re serious. Do you know what accusations like that can do to a guy’s life? Where are you getting this idea from?”
