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“Thank you all for attending this very last-minute event tonight.” He pauses, and I feel Nate’s fingers tighten around my hip. We’re all watching and waiting for the ball to drop. Hector Hayes doesn’t do things in halves. There’s a reason why we’re all standing here right now. Someone is either going to die or fall. “I bet you’re all wondering why I called this meet.” Then his eyes come to me. “I want you all to meet Tillie. She’s accompanied here by Nate Riverside-Malum…” He pauses, and then his grin deepens farther. “She is a Stuprum. The only living Stuprum left—aside from her very own daughter.”
“Motherfucker.” Nate pulls me closer into him.
The crowd gasps and my eyes catch a figure near the side of the stage. Khales stands in her full black gown, a scowl on her face as she glares at me. I thought everyone knew who I was, but why is Hector making such a scene about it.
Hector lifts his drink. “No pressure. I just wanted to throw this party for her, so everyone knew who she was.”
Nate grabs my hand and starts hauling me toward the exit with a few boys following closely behind us.
“What the hell, Nate!” I yell once the cool outside air crashes over my face. “Why are you dragging me out?” He doesn’t stop until we’re outside the front of the house and the young valet boy scatters off to retrieve his car.
“I can’t believe he fucking did that. I don’t know about him. That’s not the fuck…” Bishop yanks the mask off his face, throwing it across the ground. I take that as my cue to finally be able to remove mine, so I do.
“Why? What’s wrong with him saying something?”
Brantley is quiet beside Bishop. Nate is pacing back and forth like a caged lion. I look to Brantley. “Why?”
He seems to think over what he’s going to say, that same blank look on his face. “Because now that it’s common knowledge of you being alive as a Stuprum, remember that no one knew about Peyton, even before we found out she wasn’t a biological daughter, you will be hunted, chased, and caged until you are able to claim your given birthright.”
I fling my hands in the air. “I don’t want to run this fucking island!”
Tillie
“No,” I shake my head. Now my heart is slamming against my chest and sweat is trickling down my face. “This is the twenty-first century! You guys cannot walk around in your own little community and think that what you do is okay!”
Nate snatches the keys off the young boy, and it’s then that my eyes come to his. I recognize the empty pits that summon me with a simple glare. I exhale, just as Nate opens the passenger door. “You’re a Lost Boy.”
Nate shoves me in the car, slamming the door and then getting into the driver’s seat. He skids out of the driveway, the burned rubber flying up with the smoke.
“Nate! Slow down.”
He doesn’t answer, his jaw is working on overtime as his eyes stay on the road.
“Nate!”
He drops down to third and floors it forward until we’re pulling into our house. He gets out of the car, runs up the stairs to the front door and points to the pool house. “Get in the room, lock the door, and don’t open it unless it’s me, my mom, or Joseph.”
“Okay,” I nod, and then quickly jog to the pool house. I know when to question him and when not to. Right now is not the time.
Five minutes pass and I’ve already changed out of my dress and into some loose grey sweatpants and a white tank when there’s a knock on the door. I peek through the blinds and see it’s Nate carrying Micaela before quickly unlocking the door and letting him in.
She’s asleep, cradled in his arms. He goes straight for the crib and gently places her inside. Hitting on the main light switch, I wait for him to say something. Anything.
He takes his mask off and removes his bow tie. “Tomorrow. We’re leaving.”
“Leaving to where?” I ask, afraid of the next thing he’s going to say.
“Leaving this shit. I can’t keep you and her safe if we stay in New York. Shit has changed.”
I sigh, taking a seat on the bed. “Nate, I’ll just say no…”
He laughs sardonically. “You can’t say no, Tillie. You don’t have an option.”
“Well, we can’t run!” I shout, exhausted. “I refuse to give her that life.”
His eyes go to the crib. “You have no idea the type of shit that this world does, Tillie. Bishop has always pussyfooted around Madison when it comes down to it, giving her half-truths.” His eyes come to mine, and it’s the first time I have ever seen fear. It’s there, roaring to the surface in the rawest form known to mankind. It hurts that it’s Nate emanating it. “I won’t lie to you. I won’t hide shit from you, mainly because I know you can handle it and also because that’s just not me. So I’ll tell you now, Tillie, they would hurt Micaela. They would drown her like they have all the others.”