Page 149 of The Illicit Play

Shit. Grady.

Do I mention him too?

And what about the photos Cleo is threatening to send? Shit, Ihaveto tell them about that.

Swallowing down what’s left of my tattered pride…

Pride? Are you kidding? You shed your dignity months ago. Just own it and move the fuck on!

Closing my eyes, I quickly rush out the rest. “Cleo’s threatening to send you some very upsetting photos unless I pay her off. I’ve been doing it ever since I left Chicago. and I realized tonight that if I don’t stop now, she’ll drain me dry. I can’t keep letting her have this hold over me. So…” I huff. “If you get an email from Cleo or Claire or whatever the hell she plans on calling herself, please ignore it. It’ll only upset you. And if you can’t and you have to look, I’m sorry. Okay? I’m sorry I couldn’t keep being the perfect little angel you thought I was. I’m sorry I lost my mind and went completely crazy. I’ve let you down. I know I’ve let you down, and I can’t take it back. I’m sorry.” I whimper the last two words.

They’re still not saying anything, and I have to take it for what it is.

I’m not their golden girl anymore.

They can’t boast about me to their friends. I’m now the kid they have to avoid talking about at dinner parties.

I knew this would happen.

This is what I was so damn afraid of.

If I’m not their perfect performing monkey, then they have no need for me.

Covering my mouth, I wait for them to say something.Anything.

But all I get is a weeping sniff from Mom and a stony silence from Dad.

After a full minute, I can’t take it anymore.

So, before they can find the right words to say, I hang up.

I want to turn my phone off, but before I can do that, I have to send one last text to Cleo.

Send whatever the fuck you want. We’re done. You can’t own me anymore. Never contact me again.

As soon as the message goes through, I block her number, then switch off my phone.

It’s done.

I’m finally free of her.

And quite possibly my parents, although that part feels awful.

I knew I risked their disappointment, and that kept me silent all this time.

But who knows what they’re thinking or saying to each other right now.

I’m not their little angel anymore. That much I know for a fact.

I don’t know what the hell I am.

CHAPTER 51

GRADY

It’s the first day back after spring break, and I’m toast.

After my forest fling, an intense four days of truncated spring training, and then the truth explosion that went off in Football Frat, I’ve returned to classes anything but refreshed.