Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
He finishes pouring, but doesn’t turn around. For a while, I think he might ignore me completely, and the thought makes my whole body tense.
Finally, he speaks. “Coffee’s on the table. Unless you’d rather have brandy.”
His voice is neutral, bored, but the offer is not. I shake my head. “Coffee’s good. Thank you.”
He turns just enough to let me see his profile—jaw sharper than ever, hair still perfect even though he clearly hasn’t slept—and leans against the cart, glass balanced on his palm. He’s not even pretending to relax. It’s a pose, meant to say: I control the conversation, and I control you.
I reach for the coffee and sip. It’s so strong my throat contracts, and I almost cough, but I force it down. The heat spikes down to my stomach, then radiates out in a quick, panicked wave.
Trevor watches me over the rim of his glass. The silence is weighted, but he doesn’t move to break it.
He wants me to start.
I squeeze the robe tighter, then let go, then try again. My voice comes out smaller than I meant, soft and fuzzy, like a baby chick that knows it’s about to be eaten.
“I’m sorry for everything. For getting you up so early. For all of this.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “All of what?”
I don’t know how to answer. I look at my feet, pink-painted toenails peeking from the pile of terrycloth, and wish I could vanish.
He waits, unblinking.
I take a breath, long and shaky. “I mean… just everything, the party, the fight, getting arrested. I never wanted any of it to happen. I just wanted to, you know, to help Stella. She was in a bad way—” I bite my lip, which just reminds me there’s no gloss left to taste.
He says nothing.
I stare out the window and try to organize my thoughts into a confession that won’t make me sound insane. “It was supposed to just be a regular party. Stella said it would be fun, and it was, for like, the first five minutes. Then this other woman, Tammy, showed up, and everything went to hell. She and Stella started screaming at each other, and before I knew it, the two were going at it like wildcats. I tried to stop the fight. I really did.” My voice cracks, and I have to blink fast to keep my eyes dry. “I only grabbed the broom because I thought it would break them apart. I didn’t mean to… you know. Do what I did.”
He’s still not saying a word. It feels like being cross-examined by a sphinx, but what Trevor doesn’t know won’t kill him, so I decide to skip over the part where Tammy was vaginally penetrated by the broom.
“Anyways, the cops came and I got arrested. Stella too. They took us to the precinct and put us in these wretched little cells. I was there all night. I thought I was going to die from the cold.” I glance up to see if he’s listening, but his face is unreadable, features harsh and straight.
“It wasn’t even my fault,” I add, instantly regretting how childish it sounds.
Trevor sips his drink, his gaze never leaving my face. “And Stella?”
I blink. “What?”
“Where is she now? I assume she didn’t call her stepbrother for a rescue.”
My cheeks flare. “She, um. She got out before I did.”
He sets his glass down, the click of crystal on metal like a judge’s gavel. “What do you mean? How? I was there at the crack of dawn.”
I look away. My stomach drops as I try to decide whether to lie, or just die on the spot.
“Stella… she…” My throat goes dry. “She did a favor for the guard.”
My stepbrother stares at me, the blue of his eyes so piercing that I feel he can see right through me.
“What favor?” he asks in a flat voice.
I swallow hard.
“She stripped for him. I think, well actually, I know that’s why they let her out early.”
Trevor’s face sharpens a degree, but he doesn’t look shocked. If anything, he looks like he expected it.
He leans in, voice lower now, almost a purr. “Did you do the same?”
The question lands between us like a hand grenade. My mouth opens, then closes. For a split second, I think about saying yes—yes, I stripped for the guard, yes, I debased myself, yes, I’m as much of a slut as Stella, as Cassie, as any of the women Trevor actually fucks.
But the lie that comes out is somehow even worse.
“No,” I say, eyes locked on his. “I would never do that.”
A single, quivering breath. Then, all at once, the truth spills out in a babble:
“I tried to bribe him, though. With pictures. Well… you know, the other stuff. I sent the photos to his number, but obviously, there was a huge snafu and you got them instead. But I don’t know how it happened! The signal in there was so bad, I didn’t even know the photos went through. Maybe that’s how you got them. I don’t know. I swear I didn’t mean to send them to you, Trevor. I was desperate. I just wanted out.”