I’m so baffled by the whole situation that I almost forget to push my mother away, almost. I push her away with a gentle nudge, and she looks at me with a stunned expression like I’m supposed to welcome her with open arms. I couldn’t care less about her feelings though. I look past her to meet Oliver’s gaze. There is a fury stirring in his brown depths, eyes that just a short time ago had passion, lust, and need for me in them. But that’s long gone now, I can tell before I even open my mouth to ask what’s going on.
“Get the fuck out of my house and take your lying daughter with you!” Oliver demands, his entire body vibrating as he takes a step forward to stand toe to toe with my father.
Lying daughter? What the hell is going on?
Confused, I look between my father, my mother, Oliver, and Banks. My head feels like it’s on a swivel.
“What…” is all I get out before Banks starts yelling at me.
“I can’t believe we fell for your lies again. You’re one hell of an actress, I’ll give you that,” his words drip with hate. The way his eyes rake over me with pure disgust leaves me feeling like a piece of garbage floating in the wind.
The knife of betrayal slices through my skin cutting me so deep I’m sure I’ll never survive the injury. I haven’t lied about anything, haven’t done anything wrong.
Shaking my head, I swing my gaze to Sullivan, maybe he’ll talk to me, try and figure this out, but I should know better. His confusion turns to hatred before my eyes. He won’t let me explain. He is making up his own story in his mind, and in that story, I’m the bad guy.
I look at his face and take in his contorted features I know it’s over. His expression will haunt me for a long time, maybe even forever.
Disappointment, despair and hate…so much hate, cloud his vision. No longer is he the man that gave me my first kiss, my first orgasm. Instead he’s the vile nightmare my parents always made his family out to be.
“I…” I start but am cut off.
“Shut up! Shut the fuck up and get out! You Lockwoods are nothing but garbage, liars, and thieves.” The words hurt, and my cheeks sting as if he’s slapped me. I’m so stunned that I can’t move. All I can do is stare back at him wondering if I will ever see the Sullivan I love again.
“I didn’t…” Oliver takes a menacing step towards me and I take one backwards out of instinct, my body telling me to run. The look he’s giving me right now frightens me to the core. But not just because of the disgust in it, but because of the hate and the unforgiving rage. He wants to hurt me, make me feel the betrayal he’s feeling right now.
“Touch my daughter again and I will have the police on your asses faster than you can call your pathetic parents,” my father sneers.
Someone grabs onto my hand and starts pulling me towards the door. My legs move, but only because it’s walk or be dragged and as badly as I don’t want to leave, I don’t want to be dragged out of the house like some fool either. It’s obvious I’ve already done enough wrong, there is no point in standing here, begging for forgiveness. Tears sting my eyes, my heart thunders in my chest, and my stomach clenches with anxiety over the unknown.
What is going on?
I almost trip on the way out the door but right myself at the last minute. I blink rapidly like that might wake me up from this nightmare. I can’t help but flinch when the door behind us is slammed shut, the noise vibrating through me. I’m dumbfounded, completely at a loss as to what is going on. Why are my parents here? What did my father say to Oliver and Banks that made their opinion of me change so drastically?
My mom drags me across the driveway to their car, rocks dig into the bottoms of my sock covered feet, digging deep enough to cut through, but I don’t feel the pain, if there is any. Nothing could hold a candle to the pain residing inside my chest. My father opens the back passenger door and my mom ushers me into the back seat. I’m broken, confused, a shell of myself.
They get into the front seats and we speed off down the driveway, gravel kicking up under the tires.
“The Bishops, Harlow? What were you thinking? Did you sleep with one of them? Oh god, please don’t tell me you let one of them touch you.” My mother whines, pure disgust in her tone. She hurls about ten more questions at me before I manage to find my voice, my thoughts swirling and panic rising.