Page 94

I wanted to tell the girls everything last night. The truth burned through me to be honest about everything I’ve kept hidden from them all this time. But every time a silence came and the opportunity presented itself, the words just got stuck on my tongue.

So I kept my story straight, pretending that I’d been alone for the past week, all the while letting the lies poison my veins and fill me with even more bitterness and regret.

I downed half the bottle before I’ve even hit the basement, but instead of marching straight to my bathroom to wash off my epic workout with Nico, I head straight toward my bed and fall head first onto it.

I figure a little rest before getting ready for what is sure to be one of the most painful nights of my life is due.

* * *

I must have almost immediately passed out. It’s not hard to imagine why, seeing as I spent most of the night before sobbing into my pillow in the hope of expelling all the pain and heartache so that it would be non-existent by sunrise.

It was wishful thinking.

A groan falls from my lips as I roll over and every single one of my muscles pulls and aches.

I was already feeling it from a week of working out with Daemon. I thought he’d gone hard on me, but turns out it was child’s play compared to my brother’s brutal punishment. It seems he took Dad’s words seriously about my self-defence classes, and he went hard.

Reaching for my phone, I find that I’ve been out for almost five fucking hours.

“Jesus,” I mutter, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and blinking around my room.

Thankfully, Alex isn’t watching me like a creeper, and there’s no sign that Daemon’s been here.

I reply to the couple of messages waiting for me from Stella and Emmie, pull up my favourite playlist in the hope that some music flooding through my surround sound speakers will help pull me out of my melancholy, and I finally head for the bathroom.

I have the water just hot enough to burn, and I stand under the spray for way longer than necessary, hoping that all my pain will just wash down the drain with the bubbles.

Dread seeps through my veins for what tonight is going to hold. It’s going to be a fancy dinner party for Mum to show off to her friends. Why the hell she wants me there, I have no idea. She probably just wants to parade me around, trying to show off how pretty I look in my granny dress. It’s something most of the others can’t do, because unlike me, they all grew a backbone a while ago and have shed their overprotective shell and embarked on their own lives.

Images of Isla flicker through my mind and jealousy twists up my insides.

I remember her as a little girl. She’d turn up here with her mum, dressed in pretty floral dresses with bows in her hair, and not two seconds after she was released would she mess it up.

She used to make a beeline for Nico and he’d be forced into playing with her like she was one of the boys. They’d chase each other through the trees, get muddy, rip their clothes and always emerge laughing while both our mothers lost their shit and I just sat there, torn between wanting to do the right thing and having fun.

Growing up as a good girl in a man’s world has been hard.

Maybe if I had Isla’s balls or tenacity, it would have been easier to force my parents’ hands.

Maybe if they didn’t look at Nico every single day like he was the golden child who could do no wrong and occasionally shoot that pride my way, I wouldn’t have craved pleasing them so badly.

All the ifs, buts and maybes pointlessly float around my head. It’s too late now.

I can push back all I want. But I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to shed that need to please them.

I’m almost eighteen, coming to the end of sixth form, and here I am, still following the route they want for me. I’ve applied to the universities they deem appropriate and selected the courses they think will benefit me. All the while, I’m hiding everything that makes me happy because I’m scared of their reaction, of their disappointment.

Needing something, anything to help me get through the night I have ahead of me, I wrap a towel around my body and twist another around my hair, and I rip my door open in the hope of finding some alcohol. I’m sure I saw Stella stash the remaining ciders at the back of my wardrobe last night. I was pretty wasted, though. It could have been a dream.

“Holy shit,” I squeal, my hands flying to the top of my towel to make sure it doesn’t magically drop when his eyes land on it. “Jesus,” I pant as my heart fights its way out of my chest at the sight of Alex sitting on the end of my bed as if he belongs here.

A weird sense of déjà vu washes over me as I rip my eyes from his concerned ones and march toward my wardrobe.

“Here,” he says, obviously sensing what I need as he lifts a bottle of pink glittery liquid from his side.

“What the hell is— is it alcoholic?” I ask, forgetting about the finer details. I couldn’t give two shits about the colour, glitter, or taste, as long as it’s strongish.

“Sure is. Thought you might need it for a number of reasons.”