Page 142 of Mad Girl

“I…” I’d meant to scare her, not seriously hurt her. Just a sting. A warning. Not damage.

“The emergency room?” you asked, walking into the kitchen, black glasses dangling from your hand.

My heart dropped as you glanced between us.

“Go on,” Michael said. “Tell him what you did to Sienna. She’ll tell him, anyway.”

“Why’s she been to the emergency room, Elliot?” you asked, your gaze flashing bright, licking through me like a flame. “What have you done?”

The truth was necessary—I knew that when I’d poured Sienna’s contact solution down the drain. I knew there was no way you wouldn’t find out. But I didn’t want to admit to breaking your trust, to going behind your back to handle her on my own.

In the end, Michael said it all for me.

“There’s been some corneal damage, and it’ll heal over time, but she’s still in a lot of pain.”

“Jesus,” you snapped, eyes still blazing. “So you went and did this while you were supposed to be at Tinsley’s? You lied to me?”

The sharp disbelief in your voice pierced straight through me.

“You couldn’t let me handle it on my own, could you? I told you to stay out of it.”

“I’d do it all over again,” I said, but my voice shook around the words.

“So you feel no remorse for what you’ve done to her?” you asked.

“Do you feel remorse for sending Greer to the hospital?”

“He attacked you! He tried to rape you! She didn’t do shit to me!”

I flinched. “Don’t care,” I whispered. But that wasn’t true. I hadn’t wanted this. Cutting a slit in her jeans would’ve been better. Why hadn’t I done that instead? “She did enough. I hate her.”

That’s when we heard the front door slam, followed by my dad’s voice. His sharp emphasis on Elliot sparked my worst fear.

He knew.

My heart plummeted. To Michael, I whispered, “You told my dad?”

His eyes widened. “Of course not.”

Nic stormed in, pinning me with a glare. “I took an interesting call at work today from Michael’s girlfriend. You snuck into Michael’s apartment and fucked with her stuff.”

In addition to being a manipulative bitch who thought nothing of coercing someone to sleep with her, Sienna was a tattletale. I hadn’t accounted for that. Fuck.

She’d hit me back alright. She’d hit me where it would hurt the most.

“No,” I lied.

Nic pointed at me. “You’re going back to Dr. Goldstein. Tomorrow.”

“No.” Hot tears sprung to my eyes. “I don’t want to go back.”

I’d been so good—good at not being caught, at least. I’d gone over a year without seeing Dr. Goldstein. A new record for me.

“You’re going.” Nic lifted his phone from the pocket behind his lapel. “I’m leaving him a message.”

“Daddy,” I said, clutching the island counter with both hands. “Daddy, please. Don’t make me go.”

Michael rubbed a hand over his face while you watched us, confused.