Page 5

ONE

LITTLE BLACK RAIN CLOUDS

MAGNOLIA

Present Day

R ain pelts my window, the heavy drops beating an angry rhythm against the glass. Each one looks as though it’s trying to break in, smacking harder than the last, exploding on contact while desperately trying to escape the dark gray clouds looming in the sky.

A black sky.

Ominous and foreboding.

A warning; an omen.

Today was unavoidable, a day I wasn’t going to be able to put off forever and now it’s here. It’s as if the universe is telling me everything I’ve been feeling, all of the anxiety and fear is warranted, but there’s nothing I can do to save myself from my fate.

And there isn’t some hero out there ready to rush in and save me, either.

“You’re still in bed?”

My eyes shift from my window to the doorway, landing on the overly dramatic sigh that rolls through my roommate’s entire body, one that makes her shoulders sag and her chin drop to her chest as she drags her feet across the floor with painstaking steps.

“Maggie,” Eve groans as she flops down onto my bed and on top of me. “Babe, you have to get up.”

Despite my absolute shit mood, I smile as she rolls around, contradicting herself by burrowing under the blankets next to me. Evie wiggles until she’s satisfied then faces me, her adorable button nose scrunching as she yawns.

“I thought I had to get up?”

She nods and pulls the fuzzy comforter up to her chin. “You do.”

“But you don’t?”

“I’m already up.”

I snort as I watch her electric teal eyes slide closed. “Well, I’m convinced.”

“Shut up.” Eve giggles and gives me a playful shove. “I’ve been up, slaving over the stove just so you can have a nutritious breakfast for your very last first day.”

“Mhm.”

“I have,” she says with a pout as one eyeball opens just enough to glare at me. “Eggs, bacon, the works.”

I arch a brow. “That you made all by yourself?”

“I ordered it by myself, that’s basically the same thing since I normally have a panic attack when I have to?—“

“Act like an adult?”

Evie scowls. “I don’t know why you’re my best friend.”

“Because I still love you even when you let your anxiety turn you into an infant.”

“You’re one to talk, miss I’m still in bed just so I don’t have to face my asshole dad who can’t do anything about my choices but will try even though I’m twenty seven years old. ”

Frowning, I roll to my back and stare up at my ceiling.

She’s not wrong.

That’s exactly why I’m still in bed.

It’s been two months since I’ve seen the dean , glorious months where I didn’t have to worry about him, or any of his bullshit because he was thousands of miles away.

I made some pretty big changes in his absence, though, and when I meet with him this morning, he is going to blow a gasket.

At my age, that shouldn’t matter.

His preferences and rules, his reaction, none of that should make a damn bit of difference because I’m an adult capable of running my own life, but it all does.

It all weighs heavily on me and the direction my life could take, and there’s a very real possibility of today going so horribly I end up homeless, penniless, and exiled from everything I’ve busted my ass to have the last ten years.

All because I found a loophole in the ironclad contract he had drawn up when I was born.

“You have to face him, Maggie.” Evie gives me a soft smile, one full of genuine understanding because she knows .

She’s been my best friend since we were in diapers, both of us victims of circumstance and bonded in trauma, so even if she hadn’t seen the way my father treats me, she’d get it because Eve’s father does the same to her.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” I give her the you’re seriously asking me that look, to which she sighs and throws the blankets off of both of us before she gets to her feet.

“So what if he hates your hair. The shaggy layers are adorably sexy on you, and those purple streaks are perfect with your natural inky black strands.” Eve grabs my ankles and pulls until my legs are hanging off the side of my bed at the knees.

“Aside from that, your physical appearance is the same, you just don’t care anymore. ”

“Thanks,” I grunt as she gives me another tug, my butt now sitting on the edge of the bed while my head is where my ass previously was.

She’s a strong little thing, I’ll give her that.

I might have a couple of inches on her in height, but we weigh about the same, and we share clothes like we get paid to do it, but Evie’s new hobby has really turned the cute little blonde bombshell into quite the badass.

My best friend is moving my dead weight around like I’m a rag doll without breaking a sweat.

“You know what I mean.” She rolls her eyes and reaches for my hands, pulling me upright until I’m finally sitting.

“You put the hoops back in your nose full time, you bought an entire new wardrobe that fits your personality to a T, and you threw out the stupid makeup that covered your tattoos. Dean Reynolds is going to lose his damn mind, and we couldn’t care any less. ”

We, I, shouldn’t care at all, not with the way my father acts like a raging psycho when it comes to me, and while I all but hate him for it, it’s hard for me to try to break the cycle after twenty seven years of living it.

I have to, though. If I don’t, I’m not sure I’ll make it to twenty eight.

Scrubbing my hands over my face, I sigh and look up into those neon teal eyes. “I don’t know if I can do this, Evie.”

“You can.” She gives me another understanding smile as she forces me to my feet and directs me into the hall toward the bathroom.

“You have to. For your sake, and mine. If you can break the cycle, if you can change your fate, then it gives me hope that I’ll be able to do the same.

Neither of us deserve the lives we lived up until this point, and I want to see both of us do something about it. ”

She’s so much more optimistic than I am.

And once again, she’s right.

There might be one rather large, glaring difference in what’s expected of us, but everything else is the same, and until we figure out how to get Eve out of her contract, she’s unconditionally and loudly supporting me, breaking mine.

“My ride is here,” she says with an annoyed edge to her tone.

“Shower, eat, don’t forget to take your blockers.

” My best friend gives me a hug, squeezing tightly for a second before she lets go so she can sprint down the hall.

“Text me every second, and call me as soon as you leave the Dean’s office. ”

Then I’m alone.

Alone and getting more anxious by the second because the first half of today is going to epically suck, and I can only hope the rest of it doesn’t.

I’d really hate to have all the wind knocked out of my sails twice in a twenty four hour period, but it’s entirely possible, and I have to be ready for it.

Standing in front of my father’s secretary, having the bitch who’s younger than me stares me down as if I’m lower than the dirt on her shoes, I feel like I’m making a mistake.

I know I’m not, there’s no way any of this could be a mistake, but I’m not standing here as Magnolia Reynolds, puppet on a string, and the last hope of Dean Byron Reynolds and his bloodline.

No, I’m standing here as Magnolia Reynolds, legacy reject and black sheep of the family, a female and omega who all but destroyed her father’s hope for a future that kept his name synonymous with fortune and power.

My dad’s secretary is staring at me like I’m a fuckup, and the fact that she’s right has me questioning everything I’m about to do.

“The Dean will see you now.” She hangs up the phone on her desk and gives me a sarcastic smile as she presses the button that unlocks his office door.

Taking a deep breath, I steel my spine, nod at the toddler who thinks she’s hot shit for sleeping with my dad, then march myself in front of the one man firing squad.

“I see,” my father says as he waves me in then holds up a finger for me to stay silent. “That is rather unfortunate. Losing that funding could hurt our plans for expansion, unless of course, there’s someone else who’ll be in charge of the family accounts?”

I walk toward the desk, stopping once I feel like I’m close enough to attempt to be respectful but far enough to make a quick exit when the Dean gets loud. I fold my hands behind my back, nervously twisting my fingers then quickly bring my hands in front of me to smooth out my skirt.

Stop that.

I can practically hear Evie telling me I need to stop with the nervous tells. No fidgeting, no breaking eye contact, keep my head held high. Whatever my father has to say about everything I did in his absence doesn’t matter, and I have to remember why I’m doing any of it.

With my chin defiantly in the air, I glance around the office, my gaze moving over the finished product of his remodel that came via a later in life, midlife crisis.

Sleek. Sharp. Cold.

The new furniture is all white with shiny metal embellishments, the walls are a dingy gray with white spackle, all of the artwork is terrible, modern abstract, the carpet looks like concrete, and oh my god it looks like a hospital in here.

My father replicated his hospital, right down to the large, skinny windows set two feet apart.

I bet he has no idea, either.

“Magnolia, what the hell are you wearing?”

My eyes snap to his as he barks his question, my stomach flipping, but I manage not to jump. “It’s new.”

“It’s ridiculous,” my father says as I straighten out the front of my oversized sweater. “You look like a bum, and the way the collar is falling off one shoulder? It’s just like the slutty underclassman. I’m not sure there’s a word to describe whatever look you’re going for.”

Slutty bums is the new look, didn’t you hear? “I’m not going for anything. This is comfortable, I think it looks nice, and it’s?—“