Page 91 of The First Cut
She snorts. “You’re talking to me? I thought you were too good for the likes of us.”
“Why would you think that? When have I ever given you that impression?”
“You come here, you don’t talk, you ignore us or walk away when we walk in. Your head is always stuck in a book, like you’d rather be anywhere but here. And now you’re Hannibal’s old lady. That makes you queen bee. But how can you rule the hive when you hate us all so much?”
“I don’t want to do this in front of Millie,” I tell her softly as Tracey tries to pull her back.
“How fucking typical,” she spits.
“It’s okay, Lola. I hear worse at school.” Millie steps closer to me, taking an almost protective stance.
Fuck. I tilt my head to the sky, seeking patience before blowing out a shaky breath. In for a penny, in for a pound…
“I don’t hate any of you. Well, except for Razzle. She was vile.”
Tracey snorts but doesn’t say anything.
“I don’t speak because nobody wants to hear me. I leave the room when people enter to avoid becoming the target of their cruel words. I have my head in a book because if I’m reading, people tend to leave me alone,” I tell her honestly.
“Everyone here hates me, or they used to. I’m not really sure how everyone feels anymore because, like you said, I keep to myself. I promise you, though, it’s not because of you. I don’t even know you.”
She looks confused for a minute, her gaze turning when Millie speaks.
“People hate you?”
My shoulders sag as I turn to look at her. “They’re angry at me for something I did. They don’t understand that I had no choice.”
She looks confused and pissed on my behalf. “They’re mean to you?”
“Not, really. Not anymore,” I correct. “Your dad would kick their asses.”
“Damn fucking straight,” she curses.
“Language,” I correct her. She huffs but doesn’t apologize, folding her arms over her chest. “Lord, help me with these Shaw genes.”
“My mom’s dead.”
We all freeze at Millie’s words, the pain emanating from them even has May stepping forward.
“My dad didn’t want me, and I know if it weren’t for you, I’d be in some foster placement or group home right now.”
“Millie…” I reach for her, but she backs away.
“No, it’s true. You’re the only person that cares about me. Me, a stupid nobody kid whose own dad doesn’t want her. Did you know my mom didn’t even try to fight? She just gave up and left me. You’re it, Lola. You’re the only one who cares if I live or die, and they’re mean to you?”
I rush toward her and yank her into my arms as she sobs. I had no idea she was holding all this inside her. I should have known better. She’s just a kid who’s had her whole life torn apart.
“I care.”
Millie freezes at the sound of May’s voice. She lifts her head and looks at her over my shoulder. I turn to look and see both women crying.
“I care if you live or die.” She takes Tracey’s hand and they both walk over to us.
“We know what it’s like to be forgotten or left behind. I’m sorry we made that worse,” Tracey whispers. I look at them and realize just how young they are. Neither of them can be much older than twenty-one.
“I think we all know what it feels like,” I admit, my voice cracking as I turn back to Millie and use my thumbs to wipe away her tears. “Sounds like we’re all just a bunch of misfits trying to find our place. You might feel alone in that, but you’re not.”
She takes a deep, shuddering breath before she nods. “Okay.”
