own pain, my own accident, my own heartbreak. I never stopped to think about my brother.
A punch cracks across my jaw. The metal tang of blood coats my tongue, and I wheeze to get a breath in. I hit Beckett in the gut, wincing as he cries out.
My brother pulls his arm back to hit me, and I know it’s going to be over. He’ll knock me out, because I can’t defend myself. I can’t hit him.
Before his fist comes down, though, another arm hooks around his and pulls him off me. He struggles against the guard, screaming and kicking as he’s pulled away.
Theo stands in the doorway, wide-eyed.
I roll onto my side, coughing as I wheeze and try to catch my breath. The King watches silently, scanning the room.
“What happened?” he asks.
I shake my head. “I’m not sure. I think Beckett has been trying to kill me. These aren’t my painkillers.”
Theo lets out a sigh. I glance up at him and my heart falls.
He doesn’t look surprised—only sad.
He knew.
35
Ivy
I never knew likes on Instagram could cause such a big rift between family members. My latest post on my bakery account garnered more likes than Margot’s last picture, and I can see in Margot’s eyes that she’s upset about it.
Social media has been her mirror. It’s been millions of screaming fans telling her how wonderful she is. All day, every day.
Now, they’ve turned. She still has screaming fans, but the spotlight has turned to me.
And I hate it.
My sister stands on the other side of the bakery counter, ignoring the adoring fans that snap pictures of her. Her eyebrow arches, and an ugly feeling curls in the pit of my stomach.
I don’t like my sister like this.
She looks bitter and tired. She doesn’t look like herself.
“You want a cinnamon bun?” I ask, knowing she’ll refuse.
“No. I want you to not be so selfish, Ivy. I can’t believe you continue to open the bakery every day after Hunter and I spoke to you. I thought you understood.”
Her hair is sticking up around her head, and her eyes look hazy. I wonder if she’s using again, and then shoo the thought away.
She isn’t an addict. She said so herself. We still don’t know what happened with the overdose. She thinks she was poisoned, but she won’t talk about it.
Nausea rises up in my throat as my gut gurgles uncomfortably. A sharp pang of pain passes through me. I put a hand to my stomach.
Taking a deep breath, I focus on what my sister is saying. “You thought I understood what, Margot? That you don’t care about my dreams? That you only care about your own image?” I wince as another pain passes through my gut, glancing at the wide-eyed fans who stare at us. I nod my head to the door behind me. “Let’s go in the back and talk more privately.”
Margot just scoffs and shakes her head. “You never cared about me, Ivy. You just used me to get what you want—just like everyone else. I just spent three months living through torture, and I come out to find you’ve abandoned me. I thought I could count on you.”
My eyes dart to the people filming our interaction. I gulp.
“Margot…”
She shakes her head, spins around, and walks out. My shoulders slump.
Giselle puts a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, Ivy. It’ll be okay.”
Marcus slides a fresh tray of cinnamon buns in the display case before squeezing my other shoulder. “We’re here for you, Poison.”
I flinch at the nickname, and give him a tight smile.
Grabbing one of the cinnamon buns, I head to the office at the back of the bakery and lock myself inside. Even with my gut cramping uncomfortably, I still tear off chunks of cinnamon buns and stuff them in my mouth.
That’s the reason I’ve never been as willowy as Margot—comfort eating. I always turn to food. This is my second cinnamon bun of the day, and I know it won’t be my last.
It tastes bitter in my mouth, and tears start to stream from my eyes.
I can’t win. If I keep the bakery open, Margot will take it as a personal insult. Why she can’t just be happy for me, I don’t know. She’s hurting right now, and I’m not there to build her back up like I used to.
But going back to my old life doesn’t seem possible anymore. I don’t see how I could continue to serve my sister hand and foot when I’ve seen what life