Page 145 of Insincerely Yours
He shakes his head, steps out of line, and moves towards the door.
Seriously?
Too bad for him, I haven’t had my coffee yet and therefore am far too tired to give a shit about propriety.
When he sees that I’ve followed him outside, he finally relents, turning to face me. Though, the look he spears me with has me recoiling a step. He’s uncomfortable, not to mention mad, but there’s genuine hurt there, too.
My frustration has me wanting to snap at him, but I force my voice into something gentler. “Can you please just tell me what’s going on?”
This does nothing to temper his mood, because Wes scoffs. The only reason he lowers his voice is likely because we still have an audience as people pass us on the sidewalk. When he reads the confusion on my face, he laughs, though it’s hollow. “You really don’t know?”
“Know what?”
“You might want to check social media, and maybe get some more mindful friends,” he says, looking over my shoulder.
I follow his gaze, watching Maggie use her back to push open the front door as she balances two carrier trays in her hands.
Wes turns to go but thinks better of it, the anger dissipating. And somehow, that makes it worse. He looks and sounds utterly dejected. “I wouldn’t have cared if you told me you were a stripper or a Webcam girl or a goddamn porn star. All I wantedwas for you to be honest with me. Instead, you sat there last night pouring honey into my ear, and for what?”
I have no freaking clue what he’s talking about, but it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t wait for an answer, muttering that I’m “just like everyone else” as he disappears down the sidewalk.
“Did we stumble intoThe Twilight Zoneor something? Because everyone is acting super sketchy,” Maggie says upon reaching me.
Given what Wes just said, I should be more than a little suspicious of her, but the instinct doesn’t come. Not only because she’s my Ride Or Die but also because she hasn’t talked to anyone apart from Jase, Reed, Aria, and me since last night. She doesn’t even have her phone—
That last thought has me scrambling for my own cell, praying to God that I’m wrong.
But I know for a fact that Trent not only got a hold of Maggie’s phone but also was able to take it from her when the screen was unlocked, since he could call me from it.
I pull up her profile on several social media apps, finding the same thing posted to each one.
That motherfucker…
I have to brace myself on the easel sign beside me so I don’t sink to the ground, because there is way too much to process in thirty seconds.
Maggie rips the phone out of my hand, demanding to know what the hell is going on, and immediately gasps.
Picture after picture after picture depicts a nearly naked redhead doing everything from straddling Trent in a lap dance to being on all fours with her ass in his face. Oh so conveniently, she’s turned away from the camera in every shot, so you can’t see what she looks like, save for the last picture clearly of me in the Eastons’ hallway last night. It shows the instant Trent forced his mouth on mine, his hand freely groping my breast.
And I recall the flash of light I saw out of the corner of my eye just before Sienna interrupted.
In the low lighting of the photographs, the girl’s hair color is pretty much identical to mine, except for it lacking the subtle highlights and undertones Maggie expertly added. Likely a wig. They’ve also drawn or painted a beauty mark onto the girl’s back in the exact place as mine, and to drive the message home, Trent wrote in the captions, “#UglyDucklingTurnedSluttySwan,” tagging my account in the photos.
The amount of information that floods me has a cold sweat breaking out over my body despite the heat.
This wasn’t done in retaliation for last night. This had been planned in advance. That much is obvious, given Trent’s face isn’t beaten and bloodied in the photos.
When Aria confided in Maggie last night, she said Trent got a phone call before he could do anything, consequently locking her in the room and leaving for a few minutes. She was so out of sorts that she barely managed to get off the mattress, only to collapse on the floor. And when Trent returned, he was bragging about how they would have “company.” Aria assumed he invited some other sicko to join them, but it’s all too clear now that he meant me.
That’s why he stole Maggie’s phone. He knew in my panic I would run back to the house and up to the bedrooms to stop him from doing something to her…
…where he’d finally get me alone and do God only knows what to me.
And who would I be to argue? How could I reasonably claim he raped me when there’s evidence floating all over social media, seemingly posted by my friend, showing “me” doing all kinds of sexual acts leading up to it? Once again, I’d look like someone who was just embarrassed that the footage got leaked.
I look down the sidewalk, hoping to see Wes so I can explain, but he’s gone.
I’m about to call him when my phone vibrates with two incoming texts from the Stepmonster.
