Page 10 of Fractured Loyalties
The windows are tinted, but the way it creeps up on me lets me know it’s meant for me.
I mean, who else would it be coming for? The security guard?
I brace as the passenger side window rolls down, expecting my mother or Edward. Butnope…
Roman’s in the driver’s seat, smiling at me in a way that sends a shiver down my spine.
He meets my gaze before cocking a brow. “Are you just gonna stand there and stare? Get in, Ivy.” He zips the window up before I can answer.
I climb into the front passenger seat, my heart racing in my chest. The interior smells like leather with a hint of something musky I can’t put my finger on. Roman, who is dressed in a disheveled black suit, doesn’t take his eyes off the road as he drives the car forward.
“Nice outfit,” he says, his voice deadpan. “Did you raid a dumpster before school or after?”
“Before,” I snip, surprisingly less afraid of him than Blair. “I wanted to get the best choice.”
He smiles and then looks at me properly as we come to the stop sign. He scans my skirt, the stains on it, my face, and whatever other atrocities are there that I’m thankfully unaware of.
“I don’t want to hear it,” I say, holding my hand up at him and shaking my head. “It’s been a shitty day.”
He purses his lips, as if he’s considering what I’m saying. “You know, Ivy, you could have just dropped out. I’d have given you a ride to the Greyhound myself.”
I glare at him. “Do you ever shut up?”
He grins, all fangs. “Not when I’m having this much fun.”
I don’t offer him a response to that, opting instead to stare out the window. The city passes by in a blur, all brownstones and dark trees, until we hit the private road that leads to theestate. Then, the only sounds are the SUV’s engine and the tick of Roman’s ring against the steering wheel.
Well, until he opens his freaking mouth again.
“Your mother’s probably never going to pick you up,” he sighs, his voice painfully lacking any actual empathy. “She’s usually at some charity event for the Woodwinds Foundation… Or she’s fucking her personal trainer. Hard to tell most days.”
I don’t look away from my window. “Great.”
He lets it hang for another second, and then he says, “This school isn’t for people like you, Ivy.”
“Yeah, okay, thanks. I got that memo today, without your help.”
“You know what happens to kids like you?” he keeps going, digging in his heels as the car comes to a stop out front. “They get crushed. As I mentioned, to survive here, you need to stop bleeding all over the place.” He gestures to the spot on my skirt. “Swallow the grief because no one gives a fuck about it, Ivy.”
I glare at him, but my throat constricts from the blast of hurt.Fuck you, Roman.I shove the door open, barely getting my seatbelt undone before I slide out.
I hate this place. But I might hate Roman most of all.
Four
ROMAN
I’msure Ivy is locked away, crying her little heart out in her bedroom over a bad first day of school. I do want to feel bad for her. But… She has no idea that crying over spilled milk on her skirt is the least of her worries in this place.
And the least of mine, too.
I stalk the corridor, my shoes echoing against the tiles, until I reach the double doors to my father’s study.
Fuck me.
I pull the handle and step right into hell.
“Sit, Roman.” He doesn’t even look up from his massive mahogany desk as I enter.
