I hate myself for slapping Vivian yesterday, even if it was rewarding. And even if it did get Emmett’s lips pressed back to mine, if only for a few moments.
I knew there would be a price to pay. But I’m not so sure the benefits were worth the cost as I stand here now with the Elites circling me like vultures, working my stomach into knots.
My feet point toward the door as my dull eyes drift to its window, wishing I could catch sight of a teacher passing by. Or another student. But I know better. Even if someone did walk by, they wouldn’t help.
I’m completely stuck. Cornered. The only way out is to bend to their will, and even that isn’t a way out. It’s just more of the same. No matter what I do…I am their pawn. Or, their “pet” as Emmett likes to say.
I want nothing to do with the Elites, especially if it helps them. The only thing I can think I want less than working with the Elites in any way…is to have anything to do with my biological father. In fact, it seems more and more that those two things are one and the same.
The sun is shining in through the classroom windows, and I can see the track field off in the distance. I would do anything to be out there running right now instead of in here being threatened and tortured.
I think back on Coach Granger’s offer…when he told me I could tell him anything. I am kicking myself for not having the balls to talk to him then.
But now here I am piecing this all together on my own. All of this has something to do with my dad.
I guess it’s better than having to think the Elites are so incredibly bored and desperate for something to do that they make people’s lives miserable just for fun. These people have power and money, and they’re willing to do whatever it takes to protect their positions in life.
I want this new motive to redeem Emmett. All of them, but mostly him. I know I wouldn’t have liked Vivian and Bernadette even if they hadn’t attacked me before I even set foot on campus.
But my crush on Emmett was strong. I thought we had potential…until I realized who he really was. Does having some insight to the motive somehow excuse everything he has done?
I can’t believe my father used to be one of them and that he is apparently still chasing after them in some way. Enough to have them all riled up.
My mother is completely the opposite of anything the Elites stand for. She’s worked hard to give me a good life. Brendan does too. But at the end of the day, all they care about is family. Money and things have never been top priorities for them. And they would never betray their friends or family, or bring physical harm to someone, just to protect some perceived entitlement to social and financial standing.
I look to the clock on the wall, gulping as I realize lunch period lasts for another twenty minutes. Then the students will crowd back into the halls and this classroom will need to be used.
It’s a relief to know there is an end in sight. They could have thrown me into one of their cars and drove me off somewhere. At least this way I know we have to be done in twenty minutes or less. But a lot can happen in that amount of time.
“Just tell me what you want,” I hiss with tired eyes that are dead and flat. I’m over the secrecy and vagueness. Maybe if I hear them out it will give me more information on what my dad has to do with all of this.
“You’re just collateral, sweetie,” Vivian answers smugly, her voice chiming sweetly in a mocking tone with her pinched face and sour expression. “Just be a good little bitch and do what we tell you, and we’ll take it easy on you.”
“Ha!” I scoff, finding it hard to believe they’d ever take it easy on me. “Now I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”
They’ve hurt me. Humiliated me. I’ve suffered greatly at their hands and now…they want my help? I look away, feeling at a loss for words.
“Let me put it this way,” she continues menacingly, jutting out her chest and crossing her arms. “If he doesn’t stop playing games, you’re dead. So, you might as well save your own ass and help us.”
“You’re out of luck, Vivian. I’ve never talked to my dad. I don’t know the guy. He doesn’t even know I’m here, so this is just a waste of your time,” I fume, rolling my eyes, my head hanging heavy, in hopes that this will be the end of it. But I know better. They’d never give up so easy.
“I find that hard to believe,” she fires back with a look of superiority, projecting her voice just to show she has the upper hand in a determined strut around the room in perfect posture. “We know he saw the press release about your scholarship and you attending WJ Prep.”
“And how would you know something like that?” I groan with an upward glance, a dramatic breath rattling my lips.
“Because we sent it to him, you dumb bitch!” she shrieks impatiently, her fingers retracting into claw-like fists.
“Well then that’s on you, isn’t it? Still has nothing to do with me. And if anything, it just proves my point more. So, you made sure he knew I was here, but he still hasn’t contacted me,” I explain condescendingly, settling my back to the wall and crossing my arms.
“Trust me, he knew exactly where you were long before we sent that release,” she continues with a loud blusterous voice. “We just wanted to make sure he knew we were on to him. I think he’s been more present in your life than you originally thought. And if it comes down to it…we’ll kidnap you and use you as a bargaining chip. He’s not going to get away with his bullshit.”
“This has nothing to do with me, Vivian,” I plead cluelessly. “I don’t know what’
s going on with you and my dad, but whatever it is…it’s just between you two. He’s not in my life and I’m not in his. And I’d like to keep it that way.”
“You don’t have a choice, Ophelia. Just by existing, you’re wrapped up in this. You’re the only key we have to him, and we’ll use you however we have to.” Vivian turns away snidely as Trey and Vincent circle me.
“Use me for what!? What is it that he’s doing!?” I keep looking to Emmett, but he is still and blank. No one answers me. “I’ll just go to the police,” I try to reason uselessly. Knowing as soon as the words fall from my mouth that it’s a futile remark.