“You’re not going anywhere, Abigail. Now, tell me the truth. Did you hear what we were talking about?”
Even though I’m usually pretty fast on my feet, I can’t think up any lie that’s going to get me out of this one. “I mean, I heard that you and Quinn are siblings,” I tell her, “but that’s it.”
She narrows her eyes at me and I can tell that she doesn’t believe a word I’m saying. “Bullshit. You heard it all, I know that you did. Her voice is getting louder and louder as she starts to panic.” Spinning away from me, she turns to Mr. Stanfield. “What the hell are we going to do with her now? She knows everything!”
“I don’t know about that…” For the first time since I stepped foot in his class, Mr. Stanfield seems unsure of himself. He glances from Madeline’s face to mind, and I get the impression that he’s trying to think of a way that he can talk her down off of the ledge without it coming back to bite him in the ass.
Good freaking luck.
As for me? I’m barely able to think. In the past few minutes I’ve learned that not only is my ex-best friend related to my bully, but she’s the bad guy.
Or girl. Whatever.
“I really didn’t hear anything. I just want to go.” Even to me, my voice sounds whiney, and I know that there’s no way that Madeline is going to just let me go. Not after she found me hiding and listening in. Not when she thinks that I’m going to hurt her somehow.
“Fat chance.” She reaches out and grabs me by my right wrist. When I suck in a breath of pain, she turns to look at me, surprise in her eyes.
“Oh, I forgot! How silly of me. This is your bad wrist, isn’t it?” Her eyes are dark, and before I can try to stop her, she twists her hand to the side, taking my wrist with it. It’s bending back in a way that it probably shouldn’t, and I feel the bones inside rub against each other.
“Stop!” I scream, falling to my knees. Tears spring to my eyes and start to stream down my face, but I don’t even try to wipe them away. I have to keep her from breaking my wrist, and the only way that I think I can do that is to twist my body and move with her.
“Why wouldn’t you leave?” She’s screaming now, bending over me so that I can’t move. “Why wouldn’t you just fucking leave, Abigail? None of this had to happen! You did it all to yourself!” Twisting her wrist, she brings me closer to the floor.
I might as well stretch out on it. There’s no way that she’s going to let me up.
“I thought that we were friends,” I manage, trying to appeal to her. If I can only make her remember what it was like when the two of us were on the same team then maybe – just maybe – she’ll let me up.
It doesn’t work.
She shakes her head, closing her eyes as she does. When she opens them again, I shiver under her gaze. “We could never be friends, not really. Not when you were trying so hard to take something from my brother. Don’t you understand? This isn’t about you, Abigail. You’re just collateral damage. Our lives have been planned out for us from the beginning.”
That’s the same thing that Quinn told me one time. “You don’t have to do what your parents tell you, Madeline. You can have your own life.”
Her fingers relax on my wrist, and for just a moment I think that she’s going to let me up, but she twists again, causing a shooting pain that makes me cry out. Even if she were to let go of my wrist right now, I don’t think that I’d be able to use it again.
Not for a long damn time.
“That’s not the way it works. That’s not the agreement that we all had. Our lives are better than yours, Abigail, just because we matter, and you don’t. When you met with daddy that one time he told you that if he saw you in his office again that you’d be kicked out. Don’t you understand? That was your chance.”
“Mr. Britton is your dad?” This makes no sense. “But Quinn’s last name…”
She sighs, cutting me off, before dropping my wrist. I immediately grab it and cradle it to my chest, trying to think through the throbbing pain. “He’s my step-brother, you dumbass. But mom still made sure that we’d both be taken care of.”
“You bought your way in here.” I don’t know what to do to make her let me go, but I have a feeling that if I can keep talking then I’ll have a much better chance of walking out of here.
Madeline rolls her eyes. “Sure, if you call daily art lessons ‘buying our way’. Believe me, Abigail, we paid the price to be here, and now that we’re here, we’re not going to let anyone stand in our way. Apparently, my brother is too much of a wuss to do what needs to be done, but I’m not.”
Reaching down, she grabs me by the hair, pulling me to my feet. “Have you ever heard of Javier Morgan?”
Mr. Stanfield sucks in a breath, but Madeline doesn’t look at him. When I don’t answer, she gives me a little shake. “Well, have you?”
I’m still clutching my wrist to my chest, trying to breathe through the pain. If I had thought that it hurt bad when I broke it the first time, well, I had no idea what kind of pain could come in the future. This is far worse. Every movement of
