rocks form in my gut. Probably he’s comparing me to my squeaky clean brother, whose only crime thus far is sneaking off campus for art classes. And possibly a morbid taste in subjects, if the piece he did of his ex-girlfriend as a bleeding vampire is any indication.
A warm hand settles over where mine are clenched in my lap, startling me. “Should I take you to an addiction specialist? Do you need medical treatment?” The softness of Daddy’s voice colors the inadequacy churning through my veins and dyes it a deep, bloody red. The color of guilt.
I shake my head. “No, I’m fine. Really.”
He nods, squeezing my hands lightly before turning his attention to his phone.
My eyes find the window, watching as leaves are carried away by the wind, forming miniature tornadoes along the curb. They’re an adequate picture of the chaos that is my life.
As the car’s tires consume the street, taking us ever closer to the academy, my resolve crystallizes. Somehow I will weather this unfortunate situation. I’ll win the internship Daddy is offering, and I’ll prove my worth. Once and for all.
32
I stand in the doorway watching as the black luxury sedan pulls away from the curb with my sister and brother inside, accompanying my parents to their black tie fundraiser this evening. Adrienne looked fantastic in the dress she borrowed from Gul, and thanks to me her makeup was perfectly elegant. Cal looked suitably miserable at being required to attend Daddy’s event, as usual. But the dull, jabbing pain behind my sternum won’t abate. As the distance grows between us, it sharpens, as if a large-gauge needle were being pushed into my chest cavity.
I know the reason I’m being excluded from tonight’s event. After everything that happened yesterday at the station, and today, my evisceration via one journalist’s questions, I’m being benched. Daddy doesn’t want me standing next to him as he schmoozes potential donors to his campaign. For the first time, I’m a liability. My appetite, which before was roaring to be sated, has been sufficiently murdered by my stepfather’s tactful dismissal. I thought you’d want a night to rest, he’d said. If only that were the real reason I was being left here alone.
The politician in me understands this move. It’s not personal; it’s politics. Distance between us prevents his clean hands from being stained by his “wild” daughter’s apparent drug use. It was my choice to purchase and ingest those tiny white pills, after all. I knew the potential consequences, but I did it anyway.
The daughter in me? She’s a wailing little girl, curled into the fetal position as wrenching sobs convulse her body. Tears threaten, but I refuse to succumb in the middle of the dormitory doorway, where anyone could see me. Pinching the bridge of my nose to stem the rising tide, I trudge up the stairs to my room. At least I’ll have a few hours alone to lick my wounds.
But no.
Ricardo is waiting outside my door when I get to my dorm room. At the sight of me coming up the stairs carrying my killer heels in one hand, he pushes off the wall and wraps me in his arms. When I stiffen, he pulls away, running his fingers down my sides, looking me over. “Are you okay? Why haven’t you left yet?” I know what I have to do, but the unconcealed worry in his eyes is going to make this a lot harder.
Gently, I brush his hands away. “I’m fine. Daddy wasn’t pleased, so he made me stay here. But he’ll get over it as soon as I win that internship.” I hope. I can’t entertain any other outcomes, or I might unravel completely. Getting my brand new room key out of my purse, I unlock my door and step inside. I never found my old one, which makes sense. Kenneth probably stole it and broke into my room, stumbling on the tin of pills. He’d know immediately what they were. And at the first chance he got, he probably sold a photo to that journalist.
Maybe it was better Ms. Cain didn’t let me talk to my ex. I might have throttled him.
I step into my room, waiting for the Tiffany blue walls and creamy accents to sooth my fraying composure, but there’s no serenity awaiting me. Not yet.
Ricardo follows me inside. “You assume you’ll win, even though you’re up against me? Mon coeur, have some modesty.” Tone light, he slings an arm around my shoulders and