“I think you should worry about yourself.”
“Because I confessed to killing Hoover?” I don’t know why I shouted that. It kind of popped out of my mouth. So much for being good at pleading the fifth.
“Hoover’s death was confirmed to be an accident. He took a fall down the stairs. I told you, Marigold, we’re done with these games. I’m going to see about getting this wedding annulled and you changed out of that damn dress.”
Wait, what? “He fell down the stairs?”
“Unless you’re powerful enough to snap a neck, it would be impossible for you to kill him. He was drunk.”
“Then why am I here? I didn’t do anything. You can’t keep me unless I’m under arrest!” At least I think that’s the rules.
“That’s where you’re wrong, little girl. I can do anything I want.” He turns to leave but pauses at the door. “Change out of the fucking dress,” he grits between his teeth. “You were kidnapped by a psychopath. Don’t you worry, though. I’ll have this all fixed, and in a few hours you’ll be under my conservatorship. I’ll get you the help you need,” he says before the door slams closed behind him, leaving me all alone.
I think he’s the one that’s going to be needing help. I fling the stupid bag across the room, folding my arms over my chest. The keys I stole off my father press hard into the palm of my hand.
Avery will come for me. He has to.
And even if he doesn’t, I’ve already decided I’ll never be under my father’s control again.