I lead him over to a set of sofas sitting in the window, overlooking the shithole that is the Lovell Estate beyond.
I might hate this place, but being here now… something just feels right. I can almost get a grasp on the old me, the strong me who didn’t need a boy—a Cirillo—for anything. A girl who didn’t have all her thoughts and dreams stolen by said boy, who second-guessed everything, wished he’d appear almost every second of the day even though she told herself she didn’t even like him.
Well, that’s done. Because while I might have tried convincing myself that I hated him before, now, after all the lies and the manipulation, I really do fucking hate him.
I need to rediscover my old self, and I think this is the perfect place to do it.
“You’re not actually serious, are you?” Xander snaps the second our butts hit the cushion.
I was expecting him to take the sofa opposite me, but he drops down beside me so he can chastise me at a close distance. Great.
“What? I’m not allowed to enjoy myself? Dad said the Wolves—”
“I know what your dad said, Emmie. But that doesn’t mean he was giving you permission to immerse yourself back in this life.”
“It’s one party. A friend’s birthday party.”
“What happened to you not having any friends here?” he asks, telling me that he has listened to my rants when I’d thought he’d zoned out on my girly bullshit.
“I was exaggerating. Obviously, I had a couple.” I roll my eyes, but he sees through my act.
“You don’t need to do this.”
“Do what?” I snap, already over his judgemental attitude.
“Pretend that everything’s okay when it’s not. Throw yourself back into a world you hated just to prove a point.”
“I’m not— That’s not—” I blow out a frustrated breath instead of finishing those thoughts.
I stare down at my lap, wishing I could just make it all go away.
“I know what I’m doing,” I say eventually, although I think we both know it’s a complete lie.
“How’s your mum?” Xander asks after a long, painful silence that I’m not used to suffering through with him.
“As far as I know, she’s okay. The place Gran has organised for her is meant to be the best,” I say, thinking about the brochure she showed me for the fancy rehab facility over one hundred miles from London.
It’s the right thing to do. She needs all the support she can get after everything, but I can’t help thinking that we need her here. That she’s still hiding stuff despite both Dad and Cruz’s attempts to get her to spill everything.
She’s still claiming that she did all this for me. Agreeing to work with Damien was about getting money to get us both a new life. Then double-crossing him with the Wolves was again all for financial gain for the two of us.
She might have had all the best intentions, but any other sane person would see that she was doing nothing but digging herself a massive hole that she was never going to get herself out of alone. The fact that she’s still alive is a fucking miracle.
I understand why Damien didn’t just kill her—she’s part of the Family, after all. But the Wolves? What are they playing at? It would have been nothing for Luis Wolfe to put a bullet through her head.
“Well, let’s just hope it works,” Xander says as Cherry comes over with a tray stacked with food.
“It’s the end of the day,” she explains when Xander’s eyes go as wide as saucers. “I’d rather feed you than the street rats who’ll appear for it.”
“Fair enough,” he says happily, reaching for one of the baguettes and instantly stuffing it in his face.
I want to say it’s nice just hanging out with him, but the concern lingering in his eyes every time he looks at me washes away any enjoyment.