Bastards and Scapegoats (Twisted Legacy Duet #1) - CoraLee June Page 0,55
someone knew Jared. People were constantly waving, inviting him to parties, and offering him bro hugs. It was weird because he didn’t seem like a huge socialite. He spent all his time these last two weeks with me. If anything, I sort of wished that he would give me some breathing room, but I wasn’t willing to risk upsetting the only friend I had in this place.
“Jared, my man! You coming to the party tonight?” someone asked.
“I got a hot date, sorry,” he replied teasingly before wrapping his arm around my shoulders and guiding me in the direction of the dining hall.
“You know you can go, right?” I said in a soft voice. “You don’t have to spend every night with me. Parties aren’t really my thing, but you can go, Jared.”
“And miss out on dinner and a Netflix marathon with you? No thanks. Maybe parties aren’t really my thing either, hmm? Have you ever considered that?”
“I’m just saying—”
“Do you want me to go to the party, Vera?” Jared asked.
I stopped walking to face him. “I’m just saying you don’t have to spend every night with me. You can go see your other friends.”
“You’re my friend,” he countered.
“We can still be friends and have lives outside of one another. I love spending time with you, but—”
“But what? Do you not want me around? I don’t get it.”
“Of course I enjoy spending time with you. I’m just saying it’s okay if you do other things too. I don’t want you to feel obligated—”
“Who hurt you? Who made you feel like an obligation? Every five seconds, you’re pushing me away. Is it him? Is it your uncle?”
“N-no. You’re misunderstanding me—”
“You want me to go see them,” he said, his teeth clenched in anger. “You know what? I’m going to have lunch with one of my other friends. Give you some space. I don’t understand it…”
He ran a hand through his hair and stared at me, his eyes lingering on my mouth for a slow, uncomfortable moment. “Jared? I’m sorry, okay. I was just—”
“Talk to you later, Vera,” he snapped before spinning on his heels and stalking away. Fuck. I should have felt bad. I should have felt sad that I’d hurt him, but all I could do was breathe a sigh of relief. I was actually looking forward to a day alone, and that said a lot about how I felt about Jared. I needed to be firmer about setting boundaries.
I continued my trek to the dining hall while smiling to myself.
“I was wondering when you’d ditch him. He’s a clingy fucker, yeah?” My blood turned cold. That voice. I knew that voice.
Saint.
“What are you doing here?” I choked out while taking a step back. I’d gotten too comfortable. Saint hadn’t bothered me these last couple of weeks, so I’d gotten complacent. He was standing by the door of the dining hall, his hair slicked back and his eyes raking up and down my body. He was wearing black skinny jeans and a loose button-down Hawaiian shirt.
“I was hoping to get a comment about the latest headlines involving your stepfather and mother?” Saint asked while producing his phone. I saw him hit record for a video, and I took another step back. Students walked past me, not seeming to notice or care that Saint was stalking closer and closer.
“What news? I’m confused,” I stammered while reaching for my phone.
“Oh! You haven’t heard yet. Your mother lied about her pregnancy. I sold the story last night. Seems she faked the doctor appointments, the ultrasounds, everything.” No. Certainly he was wrong. Mom wouldn’t have done that.
“You’re lying,” I whispered.
“Nope. That would be your mother. My source is legit. Her doctor? Not so much. Had his license revoked years ago. She’s a fraud. It’s quite the scandal. I think Joseph might leave her. Do you think your grandfather will still pay for your school? Sorry, I’m tossing a lot at you, but I’m curious.”
I started breathing heavily. Saint stalked closer. My thudding pulse pounded as my phone started to ring. “You need to leave. I got a protective order against you.”
Saint tipped his head back and laughed. “I think you should get a protective order against Joseph and Jack. They’re going to be so mad, don’t you think? I mean, it’s kind of cliché. The poor waitress seduces the politician. Pretends to get knocked up. The story practically writes itself. I mean, seriously, it’s beautiful.”
My phone stopped ringing. My throat was closing. Why was he