Page 30 of Cry Madness
It seemedharmless.
What harm could one kiss do?
Well, it’s now been three days, and I can still feel the press of his lips against mine. Still taste the bourbon flavor in his mouth. Three full days with me spent replaying every second of that night, from the moment I walked inside Folly House intending to be a thorn in Maddox’s side to the horrific realization that I was in over my head.
I wish alcohol were to blame for my disastrous decision-making, but nope, that shit was all me. I was stone-cold sober, skulking out of there with my pride in tatters.
Here I thought I returned home as an older and wiser version of my younger self. Ha, wrong! I’m still the same person who easily falls victim to Maddox’s charms.
In a bathroom, Alice, really?
But I hush that annoying inner voice, for once thankful that Maddox’s shenanigans have given me an astounding tolerance for a shocking amount of bullshit. In fact, I hold my chin up high, my feathers unruffled, as I stop dead in my tracks. The soles of my black Doc Martens scrape the cobblestones of the path that cuts through Brakel Green. With one hand curled around a much-needed iced coffee, I use the other to slide the drooping strap of my bookbag back up on my shoulder. “What did you call me?”
How Miss Scarlett-High-and-Mighty-McQueen sneers down her aristocratic nose at me, despite being a few inches shorter, astounds me. A customary smirk twists her cupid-bow red lips, and I roll my eyes at her blatant pretentiousness.
Apparently, today, I chose violence rather than simply walking away without a fight. “Pardon you?”
“Pardon me? No, Alice, I don’t think so.” Hostility laces her tone when she spits, “Move. You’re in my way.”
I love how she punctuates each word as if I’m supposed to be intimidated.
“By all means, Miss Thing. Go right ahead.” I step aside and make a grand gesture for her to pass. At five feet three, I tower over Scarlett, and yet she somehow manages to be a giant pain in everyone’s ass. “A bit of advice? Tuck in that fucking attitude.” I rake my gaze over her, from the top of her bright red curls down to the tips of her ebony Louboutins. “Because, trust me, Scar, the last thing on earth I want is to even accidentally touch any part of you with any part of me.”
Most people are afraid to stand up to Scarlett. Not only is her temper hot, but she’s also known for running to her daddy so he can dispense swift and cruel punishment on anyone foolish enough to irritate her. Problem is, she can’t pull that shit with me because, as Ivory’s best friend since we were kids, I’ve practically become a member of the McQueen family. Roman never retaliates against me when I give Scarlett the same deplorable treatment she dishes out at me. Honestly, I think he’s secretly glad that someone in Wonderland has the balls to knock his bratty daughter down a peg or two.
“I don’t like you,” Scarlett sneers, as if we hadn’t established this years ago.
I slap a hand over my heart. “Oh, no, the horror! I’m practically shivering in my shoes.”
“As you should,” she snaps.
I take a sip of my coffee and, with a shrug, drawl, “Yeah, no, sorry. I’m not afraid of you, Scarlett. But it’s cute that you keep trying to terrorize me.”
With a flip of her hand, she sends those riotous red curls cascading over her shoulder to spill down her back. “You’re not as untouchable as you think.”
Jesus Christ, there’s so much venom in her tone. “For fuck’s sake, why do you hate me so much? What the hell did I ever do to you?”
I inwardly cringe, suffering from instant regret the second the question flies out of my mouth.
My nemesis narrows those violent eyes on me, and I swear, a blast of frigid air seems to come out of nowhere. She doesn’t answer, of course, and instead hisses, “Why didn’t you stay gone?”
“Why do you care that I came home?”
“No one wants you here,” she grinds out between gritted teeth, jabbing her index finger at me. The blood-red nail is inches from my face, and when a passing couple slows their pace to stare, she yells at them to keep walking. Then back to me, she says with an ungodly amount of vitriol, “Even your mother was happier when you were away. Leave Wonderland, Alice. Or better yet, do everyone a favor and this time, actually kill yourself.” Her laugh is bitter and slaps me about as hard as her words. “Couldn’t even do that right,” she mutters.
Well.
That’s unnecessarily harsh.
And seriously shitty, even for her.
“See, the thing is…” I keep my tone light despite itching to punch her right in her nasty mouth. “I thought about staying in Riverton. But I missed you too much. I had to come back just to be near you.”
Scarlett’s milk-and-honey complexion turns an angry shade of red. Even the tips of her ears are ablaze. It wouldn’t surprise me if her head popped clean off like a burst pressure cooker.
“You’re going to regret that decision. See if you don’t.” Her furious promise is saturated in violence, and for a moment, I’m actually afraid.
But I cover it up with another splash of sarcasm. “Wow.” I sip my iced coffee again before adding, “Keep this up and you’ll make me think you’re obsessed with me.”