I explode, “I fucking know!” but the anger burns itself out before it can grow into anything he deserves. What’s left is an exhausted sense of sadness. I meet Nick’s eyes, knowing it must shine through. “Please don’t make me defend what you did to me.”
“Lavinia…” His face falls, and I don’t know what’s worse. Me having to defend it, or seeing that flare of guilt in his eyes for doing it.
“Stop,” I demand, before the plea can even leave his mouth. I won’t be made to feel this creeping sense of urgency to forgive the unforgivable.
Nick, being the irascible martyr he is, raises his chin to add, “The elevator.”
My hands shake, but not in fear. It’s more like a release for getting somewhere private and finally letting it all rush out. “When that guy came to get me, I should’ve called Sy. Or said no. I just didn’t want to make a scene and didn’t realize what was happening until I was away from the class—"
“Donotfucking apologize.” He rakes his hand through hair, mouth a tight, angry line. “I’m the one that did this to you. I made your claustrophobia a million times worse.”
His admission stuns me, and I grip the railing that looks over the stairwell, like it can hold me up. My issues didn’t start with Nick, but he’s right. He made them worse.
His eyes roam over me, before he finally snaps, barreling forward to frame my face in his large hands. “Tell me what you want me to do, baby.” There’s a desperation in his eyes that guts me, because despite how I wanted to use him all those weeks ago, I can’t be this for Nick. His compass. His general. His Daniel. “If you want me to kill him–either of them–I’ll do it. I’ll burn this whole fucking building to the ground. Maybe the video goes with it.” He tips his forehead to mine, breath soft on my lips. “Anything,” he promises, tilting his head. My heart thrums as he leans in, mouth meeting mine.
But it can never be that easy. I see that now. “Take me home,” I answer, because for all this strife, for all the wrongs and hurts caused along the way, this is what Nick has given me.
A home.
Nick and I go hand in hand as he leads me down each stair, through the doors, silent and spent. Thankfully, there’s no sight of Ewing as we step into the lobby.
But there is the elevator.
I stare at it, hard-pressed to remember what I must have looked like stepping into it an hour ago. I’d thought to myself that I was going to be brave. I was going to put on an act. I was going to be a Lucia. A Duchess.
And I fell apart the second the door closed.
Nick pauses, looking back at me, and then follows my gaze to the metal doors. I feel more than see him step close, his fingers tucking a lock of hair gently behind my ear. “I didn’t know about you then, Little Bird,” he says, voice soft as a whisper. “I’d never make you get in there again.”
I open my mouth to speak, but the words are caught. It’s like I’m in the chest, or one of those nights in bed, when the nightmares paralyze my muscles. Recognition flickers in his eyes, like he doesn’t see me, but sees what I’m going through, and his fingers inch behind my neck, massaging the tense muscles.
“Hey,” he says, soft and coaxing. “I won’t ever let anyone put you somewhere like that again. Understand?”
I look into his blue eyes, the certainty falling upon me like a new, tougher skin. “I know what I want you to do.” At his questioning look, I add, “All of you.”
“Thanks for coming early,”I say, fidgeting in front of the group. “I wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t important.”
It’s an hour earlier than we usually meet to set up for Family Dinner. I’d called Verity and asked for the best way to reach out to the cutsluts. Three seconds later, she added me to the group chat, announcing that everyone needed to be at the gym early for a meeting. Now, we’re all here, and I’m standing in front of two dozen women sitting at the tables that will be filled with hungry frat boys in a few hours.
I’ve never spoken to a group like this before—a group of women who may or may not like me. That was something my sister was groomed to do. Not me. I got the vibe after Nick turned me into my father that most of them had my back.Most, not all, I think, eyeing the woman I caught sucking Remy’s dick.
Haley is front and center, slinked back in her seat with her arms crossed over her chest.
I’ve been dreading coming face-to-face with her all day. She’s pretty, I’ll give her that. Her tits are bigger than mine and her lips are fuller. She’s not a natural blonde, cool highlights scattered throughout her curled locks, but I can tell she takes a lot of care with it. She’s the kind of girl who spends an hour or more in front of the mirror every day, making every part of herself flawless and beautiful. Just like Leticia.
It takes everything in me not to smack that smug smile off her mouth.
Family Dinner should probably change its name to Family Drama.
This meeting isn’t about Haley or Remy, though. It’s about setting the groundwork to make this alumni event as painless as possible. So, I avoid eye contact with Haley and start by announcing, “Nick and I had a meeting with Saul yesterday, and he explained that one of our obligations is to… uh,” I stumble over the phrasing, eventually settling on, “act as host and hostess of the annual alumni poker game after the fall festival.”
A few girls share dark, foreboding looks, and it hits me.
“Oh,” I say, surprised. “You’re familiar with it?”
One of the older girls, Kathleen, raises her hand. “We always act as servers at the poker game.”
But another girl, Laura, rolls her eyes. “Among other things…”