Page 18 of Fractured Loyalties

Eighteen

IVY

Oh my God, why am I here?

“Ivy!” Tess beams as she swings open the front door of a mansion almost as large as the one I’m living in. “I wasn’t sure you’d come when I sent you the invite. I thought your shopping trip might run late.”

I force a smile, smoothing out a black, tight dress that feels more like a costume than something I should own.

“Absolutely. I couldn’t miss it.”

I couldn’t imagine being stuck at home either.

But I leave that part out.

“Come on,” Tess says, grabbing my hand and pulling me into the house. “This is actually my sister’s house. There’s no way that my parents would let us get away with throwing a party at my place.”

I laugh, as if I have any idea what she’s talking about. The foyer is packed with shimmering girls in designer slips, boys with chiseled faces and the posture of hyenas. There’s music, shrieks of laughter, and the fizz of champagne.

I try to keep up with her while also being invisible, but honestly, my nerdy friend is anything but invisible tonight. She’s in a red dress, all legs and shoulder blades, her hair up in a dark ponytail.

Nothing like the timid girl at school.

“Ivy,” a voice cuts through the noise, and I turn, bracing myself as I see Blair standing a few feet away in a pale-blue body con dress. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”

“Oh…” I tense up, and Tess links her arm through mine in a protective gesture I don’t miss.

“I love that dress,” Blair continues, her face morphing into some sort of weird, but shocking approval. “My mom hasn’t had a chance to grab any of the new lines they just released…” She pauses, pursing her lips and giving me a once-over. “It looks nice. You look better with your hair curled, too.”

I instantly brush my fingers over my hair and then glance down. The dress is black silk, minimalist. It’s the one Irena insisted looked like something perfect for me. And I guess she was right.

Still, I shrug, trying not to make it weird. “My mom finally had a chance to help me upgrade my wardrobe.”

“Well, you look hot.” Blair actually kind of smiles at me. “Props to your mom for fixing your poor-girl look.”

Tess squeezes my arm as Blair drifts away. “Well, that was not expected.”

“No kidding,” I say, letting out a heavy breath.

“Let’s get a drink,” Tess giggles, and then starts tugging me through the crowd. I have no idea where we’re going, but I have to admit that, as much as I hate it, Blair’s compliment felt… good.

Maybe I can forget that my stepbrother fucked me, and I liked it. Or that I’m starting to feel like I need him. In that way.

But that feels like a stretch. I don’t want to get too ahead of myself.

When Tess and I get to the bar, she slips behind the counter and starts mixing drinks for us. I lean against it and, just as I do, someone bumps my arm.

I turn to see one of the guys I asked about Kade, the Monday after the party, the one with the dark hair and eyes.

“I guess you were right about Kade,” he says to me, narrowing his reddened eyes, clearly already drunk.

“Right about him in what way?” I start carefully, my heart already pumping at the reminder of Kade’s disappearance.

Tess catches the echo and jumps in. “So crazy, right, Jared? He just dropped off the planet. Katie says his parents are telling everyone he ran away, but like, who runs away from a mansion in the middle of nowhere? What would you even do that?”

“Maybe he hated his life,” Jared, a name to put to the face now, says, shrugging his shoulders. “I mean, just because you have a lot of money doesn’t mean you’re happy. I think we’re all fucking losers internally. And Kade was working for Robert Woods... Haven’t you heard the rumors?—”

“Wow,” Tess’s mouth drops, cutting him off. “I think you’ve drunk too much already.”

I stand there in silence, sipping the sweet drink I’ve been handed and not understanding anything he’s saying. I make a mental note not to finish it too soon. I don’t need a repeat of the last party.

Roman. My brain takes me right back to him, his name forever burned in a place I wish I could wash it clean. And the worst part is, my body still reacts with excitement.

Ugh.

“Are you okay?” Tess says, lowering her voice. “You look a little off since Jared mentioned Kade. I know he was like your first friend here, but you can’t let it get to you. Sketchy shit happens around here all the time. And whatever he had to say about your family…”

“I’m fine,” I force out the words, choosing not to ask what kind of sketchy shit Tess is talking about.

“Let’s find somewhere less chaotic.” Tess grabs my wrist and pulls me through a throng of overdressed juniors and into a corridor lined with family photos, all perfect teeth and vacation tans. “You know, you can’t worry about what half the people here think.”

“I’m not worried about them.”

I’m worried about myself, about how my insides are flipping and twisting in a way that feels like… real feelings.

She leads me to a small sitting area. It’s less formal than the other part of the house, and full of upended shot glasses and crumpled cocktail napkins. Blair’s group of mean girls is sitting on some of the velvet couches and armchairs.

I don’t understand why we’re here with them.

“We saved you a spot,” Blair says, patting the seat next to her as she looks at me. I take a deep breath and take a seat on the edge of the couch, while Tess props herself on the coffee table right next to me.

“Mom is driving me insane,” says a girl named Katie, who I recognize as one of Blair’s minions. “She’s got me seeing this SAT tutor at like seven in the morning. I told her that if I don't get into Dartmouth on my own, I don’t want to go. Ugh.”

The other girls make the appropriate noises. One fake laughs. Another sips her drink with the slow, deliberate grace of a ballerina. Tess picks at her cuticle, her eyes drifting to the French doors as if she’s dying to escape. I know the feeling.

After a few rounds of mutual parental bashing, the conversation turns, with surgical precision, to me.

“So, Ivy,” says a girl whose name I think is Georgia, “what’s your situation? Is it weird, living with Roman and your mom and all?” The question is blunt, but her tone is curious, not mean.

I freeze for a beat, unsure how to answer. I could make something up—my mom’s a monster, my stepdad’s in a cult, something outrageous… but something inside me wants to see if these girls can handle the truth. Or maybe I’m just tired of lying.

“My dad died about a month or so ago,” I say, and the words fall out as if I’ve been holding them in my mouth for months. “I had to move in with them…”

The silence is immediate. The music in the other room gets louder by contrast, thumping through the walls like a distant heartbeat. I look at the faces around me.

Katie, the SAT martyr, blinks. “Oh my God… that’s… wow… I’m so sorry.”

I nod, my filter just dissipating into nothing as my mouth moves. “It was really sudden. Heart attack. I found him in the kitchen, just… gone.”

Georgia’s lips part, but she doesn’t say anything. Tess’s hand floats to my arm, then pulls away, as if touching me might transmit the tragedy.

“It was a Sunday,” I continue, unable to stop. “He was making breakfast. One minute he was there, the next he’d just…collapsed. I called an ambulance, but by the time they got there…”

The room is a vacuum. Even the girls who looked as if they wanted to check their phones before don’t dare now.

“I remember the EMTs, how calm they were. Like they’d done it a thousand times, and I was just on the outside—like a dream. They put a blanket on my shoulders and told me to breathe, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t do anything. After that, I just…” I shrug and then sigh. “I ended up here.”

“That’s so sad,” Katie says, and her voice is soft, but the sympathy in it is surface tension only. “I can’t even imagine, but this place is going to be so much better for you…”

Tess tries to touch my arm again, this time leaving her hand there for a second. Her palm is clammy.

“Yeah,” Georgia says, clearing her throat. “My parents are, like, super divorced? But that’s not even the same.” She laughs awkwardly and gulps her drink. “But Robert Woods is super rich, the richest, so it’ll be… better.”

“That’s definitely hard…” Blair adds, looking at me with more curiosity than anything else. “Though I’m not sure about Robert Woods…” Something in her voice feels like a tell. But I can’t read it.

There’s a moment of silence—like seriously, a moment— before the entire room shifts.

“Are you coming to my party next weekend?” Blair asks me, her voice suddenly bright. “It’s at my lake house and my parents are out of town.”

“Um… maybe,” is all I can mutter. Thankfully, after that, the other girls start chatting about the last lakehouse party. I sit there, invisible again, my nerves feeling raw.

Tess gives me a look, and I see the sympathy in her eyes. But instead of saying anything about it, she picks up her phone, scrolls for a second, and says, “Here, let’s take a selfie.”

She leans in, and I force myself to smile. Tess looks down at our picture and then looks up. “Are you okay with me posting it?”

“Sure, of course.” I keep my voice light and fade back into listening, but suddenly everything about being at this stupid party feels… wrong.

I want to scream. Or cry—or both.

I need air.

I down the rest of my drink, and then turn to Tess. “Where’s the bathroom?”

She gestures a couple of doors down. “It’ll be way better than the one downstairs.”

I give her a quick “thanks,” and then I slip away.

The moment the bathroom door clicks behind me, I lock it, and I let my shoulders drop, all the tension leaking out like a slow puncture.

What is wrong with me? Is it about Kade’s still being missing? Did he run away because of Roman? And speaking of Roman…

My stomach flips, and my chest aches. The sick mixture of desire and disgust is almost enough to make me throw up. I turn on the faucet and splash water onto my face, not even caring if it ruins my makeup.

I look up at myself in the mirror. The dress fits, my makeup is flawless, even if with the sheen of water, my hair is technically perfect, but my eyes are wrong.

I look… wild.

The longer I stare at myself, the more I can see him in the mirror, standing behind me, all cold confidence and predatory charm. The way he pressed me into the glass in the changing cubicle, the way his breath felt against my skin and the way he touched me as if he already owned every inch of me.

And how much I wanted it.

It’s disgusting. He’s disgusting. I’m disgusting for wanting it.

I try to shake it off, but my skin remembers him, the way he bit my shoulder, the way he gripped my hips so hard I had to check for bruises after. I want to scrub myself raw. I want to pull off my own skin and start over.

Or maybe I just want him again.

I sit down on the toilet lid, wrap my arms around my knees, and let the tremors run through me until they slow.

My phone vibrates on the counter, the screen lighting up my name. For a second, I hope it’s my mom. Maybe she finally decided to check in, to remember that I exist beyond dressing me up like her little doll. But nope, it’s just Tess.

Tess: Party moved to the pool if you want to join!

A scoff escapes from my throat. I don’t want to join. I want to disappear.

I scroll through my contacts, finger hovering over the cause of all my misery. Well, most of it, anyway.

Roman.

The thought of him coming to get me fills me with something like nausea, but also something else, something that makes my legs tense and my heart bang against my ribs. I shouldn’t text him. I shouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

But I do.

My thumbs move on their own, as if they belong to a version of me that’s more honest, more desperate.

Me: Can you come get me? I’m at 1422 Hillcrest Drive.