Each message is angrier than the last, making shivers race down my spine as I listen to his low, angry voice, but still, I press the damn thing to my ear, pretending like he’s physically close to me. I listen to the fifth message with my heart in my throat.
“I’m losing my fucking mind. If you’re going to be a bitch and a coward at the same time, at least find those steel balls of yours and tell me to my fucking face!”
I don’t know if it’s the sound of his voice with the familiar dark notes that express his hate for me, or if it’s the threats themselves, but whatever it is, it makes the blood in my veins rush hot, my heart starts beating furiously as if it wants out of my damn chest.
Since the day I met him in that damn hospital hallway, Julian has always had the ability to make my heart ache with shitty emotions that I never asked for.
And my God, I never asked for any of this.
I never asked to want him with a burning urgency like this, it feels like I’ll go up in flames if he doesn’t look at me, let alone kiss me.
I never asked to be caught in this intricate, shitty web of lies and deceit like I am now, I can’t tell what’s real or what’s a nightmare anymore. It all bleeds the same hot, gushing blood that covers my hands, my body, my soul…
“God,” I gasp, as a tremor moves through me. Is all this heartache and pain because of me? Did I cause my family this much chaos just by opening my mouth when I was barely old enough to understand that every word, every kiss has devastating consequences?
I mean, it has to be my fault.
I let reality slip through my fingers, gave in to lust and longing and refused to see that Julian… wasn’t the forgiving kind.
Last night before the party from hell, I literally begged him to fuck me, purring in his ear like an over eager bitch in heat and he… well, he grinned down at me, his mouth made of sin planting soft kisses all over my body, then he had the audacity to whisper sweet nothings in my ear while he screwed me, bringing me to intense heights of pleasure where I honestly thought I was so close to him, but no… he was playing me the whole time.
The thing is, he warned me.
He never stopped hating me. I just mistook his cunning moves for something they weren’t.
A shudder goes down my spine as a vivid memory filters in my head, until his voice becomes so eerily clear, it feels like he’s right behind me.
“I’m probably going to hurt you where it’ll shutter you, for Aiden, for kissing Liam… for causing all this crap in my life, turning it upside down without a care in the world.”
He warned me.
He never lied.
I’m such a fool.
It’s the most horrible and sinister thing in the world; being punished over and over again for a past you can’t change. Because all of this, John coming after my father, using Nicky, faking care for Nancy, then Courtney shattering my entire life—it’s all a punishment made possible by the Fitz brothers.
The two have always been rumored to be vengeful and not the type of people anyone would want to go against. I knew that. I knew that for years before I moved into their mansion but somehow, I mistook intense, endorphin inducing lust and affection for genuine concern and care—things I was starved for—when it was all calculated.
God, I’m such a fool.
That’s the thing about desperation and hunger. You start accepting everything, thinking that it’s better than nothing, when all you’re doing is allowing them to destroy you, to poison you until you’re nothing but a begging, pathetic mess.
And now, after weeks of being a clueless bitch, my life isn’t the same. I lost more than I thought I did.
School sucks. I don’t have any friends. Everyone either hates me, is jealous of me, or feels sorry for me.
The people I thought loved me, all lied to me, abandoned me, or blame me for all the crap in their lives.
But the woman who’s always had my back, loved me when I felt unlovable, I turned my back on her, left her to suffer alone all in the name of resentment.
Nancy raised me. She’s my mother for all intents and purposes, Nicky can go to hell for all I care.
So, it’s in that spirit that I switch off my phone the moment I see her name across the screen. I haven’t bothered to listen to the voice messages she left, and I won’t read her texts. Same goes for my father.
They don’t matter and they currently don’t know where I am. If they knew, they’d know that one way or another, I’m going to get revenge on the Fitzgerald family. If they knew where I am now, they’d know that I’m going to get my mother out of this lavishly styled hell and get out of here.
Nancy didn’t deserve to be dragged into this. She never asked for this, so with that in mind, a steely resolve falls over me like a black armor of steel. I push open the large double oak doors of the Fitzgerald mansion like I’m about to go to war.
Julian isn’t here, I saw him speed out of the driveway after his graduation, and soon after Cole and Liam followed after him. I refuse to think that the looks of worry on all their faces was for me. I don’t know what to believe anymore.
Quietly, I beeline my way toward the hallway that will lead me to Nancy’s makeshift hospital room. Maybe I should go to my room, wash up, and pack a little bag. I have no idea where I’ll take a sick woman.
I parked my car behind the large trees that surround the property to make sure no one sees it, but I have no idea how I’ll make it out of here with Nancy in tow. And I have to do all that without anyone spotting us.
Think, Mia. You can’t be foolish for the third time in a row.
My mind is buzzing with all sorts of scenarios and attempts to flee that I suspect will fail when I notice something—or rather someone—from the corner of my eye before they speak.
“Mia.”
I halt to a stop as soon as her soft, yet cold voice reaches my ears. A cold shiver goes down my spine, my heart starts thundering in my chest as my mouth goes dry. She smiles, knowing the chilling effect she has on me.
“I’m so relieved to see that you’re back and in one piece,” she says, taking another step closer. I’m sure you are, bitch. “How are you, dear? Are you all right?”
She says that like she’s genuinely concerned, if she were though, hell must have frozen over right about now.
“Courtney,” I say, swallowing the ball in my throat so I don’t say what I really want to say. I’m not here for her. “Your concern, is as always, neither welcomed nor wanted, but thank you, I’m sure you tried.”
She smiles sadly, watching me intently. Then she flips her hair over her shoulder—like I sometimes do when I’m ready to piss someone off—tucking loose strands behind her ear, allowing me to see the diamond earrings glittering in the light of the hallway.
Courtney Fitzgerald is an elegant woman, dressed now in a soft cream Tom Ford cashmere sweater that somehow brings out her beautiful green eyes that stare at me with so much pity, it makes my stomach turn. Her black suit pants were tailor made for her, and her signature red bottoms make up the rest of her ‘Idle hands, devil’s work’ attire.
She’s wealthy, stunning, calculated, intimidating and she knows it. Got to appreciate that about the woman, she has never tried to cover her true self in sheepskin. With her, I expect nothing but lethal.