Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 101796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
He stops dead, eyes bulging, his mouth falling open. “What the hell are you doing?” he bellows.
THIRTY
Elliana
I want to die. I mean, I have wanted to die before—many times, more times than I want to think about—but now I really, really wish I would drop dead on the spot, so I don’t have to face any of this.
I stand up straight and yank my underwear back up with shaking hands before fixing my dress, but not fast enough that Mom didn’t see as she came up behind Paul. “What the fuck is happening here?” God, her voice is like nails on a chalkboard. I almost forgot how much I hate it while she was gone.
“What were you doing to her?” Paul storms across the room and wedges himself between us, facing Carter and almost snarling in his face. “What is wrong with you? Are you really so fucked in the head that you would pull something like this?”
“He didn’t—he’s not—” I’m trying, I really am, but it doesn’t seem like anybody’s all that interested in listening to me. Mom is beside herself, her face deep red as she yells incoherently and waves her arms.
My face is redder. In fact, my whole body is flushed in shame. They’re home five days early, with no warning. Of all the times for them to walk in. All I see in front of me is humiliation. Getting accused of all kinds of things, maybe being separated from him over this.
The idea chills my blood and makes my chest ache, but there are bigger problems right now.
Like the way Paul is screaming in Carter’s face. “Well? Tell me what you were doing! Why did you have her like that?”
“My baby.” Somehow, the worst part of all is the way Mom rushes to me and throws her arms around me like she genuinely cares. “What did he do to you? What was he going to make you do?”
“It’s not like you think.” Why bother? She can’t hear me when she’s too busy shouting at Paul to do something. What she expects him to do, I don’t know.
“Would you just listen to me, please?” I beg. “I’m telling you, Mom! He wasn’t making me do anything!”
“The way he didn’t make you take those photos, you mean?”
Oh, my god. I’m going to throw up.
My legs are too weak to hold me up. I end up dropping onto the coffee table while bile rushes up my throat.
“Yeah. We know about the pictures.” Paul’s hands are level with my eyes, and I watch with a sinking heart as they curl into fists while he stares daggers at his son. “You left that part out, didn’t you? Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”
“How could you? What are you, some kind of animal?” Mom gathers me in her arms again, which is pretty awkward from where I’m sitting. She ends up squashing my face against her stomach. “You’re lucky I don’t press charges against you for this.” I have to wonder what makes her think she would succeed. The pictures were of me, and I’m not a minor. If I don’t want to press charges, why should she?
Paul jabs a finger against Carter’s chest. “The entire town is going to think my son is some sort of pervert. Congratulations. I hope you’re proud of the reputation you’re creating for yourself.”
“What about Elliana’s reputation? Oh, my baby.” She even sniffles and her voice trembles. And yes, I am definitely going to be sick, because this is a farce. Since when does she care? I once told her I almost died, and she accused me of overreacting. I’m supposed to believe she means this now?
“Elliana.” Paul turns toward me, and for the first time since he walked in, I can think about more than just myself and Carter. He looks absolutely mortified, sorrowful, heartbroken. Unlike Mom, I actually believe he means it. “I am so sorry for this. Of course, it came out after the fight. When those boys were questioned. The one whose jaw my son broke couldn’t say anything.” He glares at Carter, who stands stone-faced, silent. “But the other one, who only had a broken nose, explained why they were bothering you in the first place. And this doesn’t excuse them,” he adds, throwing a bitter glare at Carter. “But it means being able to see the full picture, finally.”
Turning back toward the still silent Carter, he jabs his chest again. “Did you think I wasn’t going to find out about that? How could you do it? Taking pictures like that of your own stepsister! And then sending them out to everyone?”
“He didn’t do that part.” There’s no life in my voice, though. I’m too humiliated, not to mention disappointed. We were supposed to have more time together. We never even talked about how to handle things when Mom and Paul are around. It’s like getting ripped out of a nice dream and wishing more than anything to go back. It’s never possible, though, is it? You can try all you want, squeeze your eyes shut, force yourself to fall asleep. It doesn’t matter. The dream is over. And even though it makes no sense at all, I’ve been existing in a dream for days. A dream where Carter and I were happy, against all odds.