Page 48 of Deliverance

My stomach is in knots, and I feel tears begin to build in my eyes as I turn to see Asher striding towards me.

“What? Scared your new sister is gonna rat you out to daddy?”

I’m trained practically from birth to worship the ground that the Putnam’s walk on, and I have, diligently. It wasn’t always for his benefit, though, I’ve had a plan of my own for years, but right now, none of that matters. In this moment, I feel like scum of the earth and if Asher doesn’t shut the fuck up, I’m going to claw his goddamn eyes out.

“I have to go,” I say, dropping my eyes so he hopefully doesn’t see the building tears. Not like he’d care.

“Whatever. Keep your phone on. Missed that mouth,” he says as he brushes past me like my entire purpose in life is to service him.

In his head, it is.

For a moment, I pause. How did things get so fucked so fast? Maggie went to the bathroom and Mercy and Angela started laying into me. They didn’t like how I laughed when Maggie absolutely annihilated Mercy and they started throwing out heinous accusations.

And a few that were a little too close to the truth.

Asher was walking by and I panicked. I threw myself at him to get them off the trail they were all over. It worked too. After almost two months of staying away from Asher Putnam, of becoming an individual and not a groupie, I almost forgot what it was like to be in his orbit. As far as I thought I had come, as done as I was with him, it was almost too easy to slip into the role of desperate to please him. He just so happened to be in the mood to take me up on it, right that second.

He grabbed my hand and led me out to the back before pushing me to my knees. For a moment, I paused, unsure this is what I wanted. Scratch that, I knew it wasn’t what I wanted. As soon as I looked up at him from my knees, guilt gnawed at me like a feral animal and I wanted to physically be sick. Just twenty-four hours ago, I had the most amazing date with Maggie, followed by the most amazing night. Now here I was, on my knees waiting to suck the cock of an asshole who has never given two fucks about me.

I still did it, though. When he told me to hurry up and take it out, I pushed my guilt to the side and did as I was told for two reasons.

One, he’s a Putnam. Period.

Two, if I didn’t, he would talk. He’d complain and tell everyone and then everyone would be wondering why I passed up an opportunity to have Asher’s attention on me. They’d ask questions and snoop and dig until…I couldn’t let that happen.

So, I closed my eyes, sucked him into my mouth and prayed the entire time that Maggie would never find out. That I could bury it deep down and never talk about it again. That we could go home tonight into our safe little bubble, and she would hold me while I slept.

How stupid was I to think that would even be a remote possibility? Karma was out tonight and rightfully so, she wasn’t on my side. Out of anyone to catch Asher and I, it just had to be Maggie, didn’t it? Out of anyone in the world to walk in on that sight, it had to be the one it would hurt the most, right?

Self-hate and disgust run rampant through me as I decide I have to talk to Maggie. I have to apologize. I have to beg for forgiveness. I have to…do something.

I head in the direction she disappeared to, checking every bathroom and corner I can. If I were her, I’d be sulking somewhere, probably sobbing if I’m honest. God, why the fuck did I do that? We weren’t dating or anything. I mean, we had one date, but it’s not like I was her girlfriend.

Then why do you feel like you just cheated?

That turning in my stomach amplifies as I make my way into the main room where my father makes eye contact, gesturing me over.

“Have you seen Maggie?” I ask before him or Calista can say a word.

They both frown. “No, she went to the bathroom and never came back.”

I nod as I scan the room.

“Did something happen?” Harry asks.

“Yeah,” I say. “I found her crying in the bathroom. Someone spilled their drink all over her dress. Now I can’t find her.”

“Maggie was crying over a dress?” Calista challenges.

I roll my eyes, not having the patience to filter myself.

“No, she was crying because some goddamn bitch spilled a drink on her.”

“Such language,” a voice says from behind me before a heavy palm rests on my shoulder.

A chill skates down my back as my father smiles.

“Thomas. I didn’t think you were going to make it tonight.”