Her mother nods, pacified. “What are you going to do as soon as we leave?”
“I’ll text him,” she grits out, unblinking.
Madison’s rage may be quiet to her mother’s self-will, but I can feel her anger. It’s hushed but imminent. Years’ worth of rage built up, building still.
“You owe it to your father, this family. You know he—we—need this,” she tuts, straightening out the collar of Madison’s already perfect dress.
“I know, I know,” Madison interrupts like she’s heard this a thousand times. “The stocks Daddy’s invested in haven’t panned out like he thought they would.”
“Right, so keep pushing. He can’t stay caught up too much longer on Abram’s daughter. Sure, she has a nice face, but you can’t buy class. Now, stop slouching,” she adds. Pulling her shoulders back roughly before Madison can attempt to do it herself.
Madison’s face turns grim.
“We should be grateful Lorna invited us to dinner tonight.” Mrs. Montgomery’s voice was as sweet as before, like she hadn’t slapped her own daughter across the face.
“Careful mother,” Madison taunts. Eyes thoughtless as they glow. “Don’t you think we should get back soon? Don’t want to leave Daddy alone too long. Everyone knows how Lorna likes to—”
“—Enough.” Her mother’s tone is deadly and low as her eyes flare in warning.
I notice how Mrs. Montgomery’s fingers twitch like she has the urge to hit her daughter again after her comment.
Madison’s chest heaves, eyes flittering, deadlocked in her stare as if she’s waiting for it too.
The callousness that burns in her eyes shines evident and clear. Her revulsion toward her mother is undeniable as the welt on her cheek pulsates, but she doesn’t speak up again.
Mrs. Montgomery cranes her neck, impartial. Relenting as her hands drop back to her sides. “Now go cover that up before someone sees. Before you make an even bigger embarrassment of this family.”
Madison storms passed as my back plasters to the wall, but I don’t think she would have noticed had it not been. Hatred spews like flames from her eyes, screening her from everything else around.
It would seem we all have shame to hide.
fifteen
Cole
IstormintotheCasper mansion like I own the place. Taking the stairs two at a time, completely bypassing Finn’s door. Choosing the one on the left and making myself comfortable.
To say I’m wound tighter than a psycho in a straitjacket would be an understatement.
Patiently I stay waiting. Like the true predator I am.
When I hear the door rattle, the monster inside me purrs to life. Sinking my teeth into my kill as an innocent little Rory pops her head around the corner. Unassuming and unwavering.
“What are you doing here?”
“I’ve been asking myself that same question since I was born.” Answering her with an ounce of unradical honesty as I lean back with my elbows resting on the mattress. It’s plush, comfortable, and smells like her.
“Maybe your father should have learned how to pull out then,” she deadpans and I have to bite back my grin.
Rory’s feeling feisty today. Good. She isn’t the only one, because I’ve learned something. Something she did without telling anyone.
She did this to spite the hellhounds, I know her, and I know that’s why.
I start off easy. “You weren’t at practice today.”
“And?”
“Andyou weren’t at practice.”