Page 49 of Deadly Little Scandals
Not physically.
“What?” I managed to say.
“I’ve never fought anyone before.” Lily sounded far too reflective for my liking. “Never really gotten physical—unless you count that time you ended up turning the hose on Campbell and me.” She laid her hand lightly on the wall, and then, before I could stop her, she pulled the other arm back, curled her fingers into a fist, and drove it into the charred wood.
Hard.
She reared back and did it again. I checked the impulse to grab her and keep her from punching the wall for a third time. Walker had told me that she was angry, but this was fury. Rage.
It washers.
“All these years,” she gritted out, plowing her hand into the wall again. “I thought my family was perfect.”Another hit.“I thought I had to be perfect forthem.”
She was scaring me now. The silent treatment hadn’t been pleasant, but it had been in character. This was something else.
“If I agree to fight you,” I said, eyeing the blood now dripping from her fist, “will you stop hitting the wall?”
Lily let her hand drop to her side and turned to me. “Mama likes for things to be perfect. And Daddy…”
She couldn’t finish that sentence.
“I was mad at you forthem, Sawyer.” She shook her head. “But now? I think I’m mad for me.” She swallowed hard, bringing her hand up and resting a bloody knuckle against her mouth. “You didn’t even give me the chance to choose you. And maybe I wouldn’t have. Maybe you were right not to trust me, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.”
She turned back to the wall. Her entire body shook, then tensed.
“I’m not good at trusting people,” I said. My voice came out ragged and low. “That’s not your fault. This whole situation? It’s not your fault, and it’s not mine. It justis.” I could have left it there, but then she reared back for another hit. “Put your thumb on the outside of your fist when you punch,” I advised. “Otherwise, you’re just asking to break it.”
“Advice for the ages,” a voice commented behind us.
Lily froze, then let both hands drop to her sides. I turned sharply and saw Campbell standing in what had once been the doorway.
“Don’t let me interrupt you,” she said airily. “Please, go on.”
Lily cast a sidelong glance at me. “It’s not her fault, either, but perhaps a flying tackle would not go astray?”
“Bring it on, blondie.” Campbell smiled. “I’m an Ames. We’re taught how to fight dirty from the crib.”
Lily was not at a loss for a response for long. “Speaking of Ames family members and cribs—I understand that Sawyer isn’t your sister and that your real half-sibling is still out there somewhere.”
“Adopted, presumably,” Campbell replied smoothly.
Sadie-Grace chose that exact moment to stick her head in through the doorway. “I can’t talk about adoption,” she said solemnly. “Greer told me that I’m not allowed to say that word.”
y the time the rest of the White Gloves and Candidates arrived, the four of us had made our way out of the remains of the house and around the perimeter of the island. Three-quarters of it was walkable, but the northmost stretch featured a series of steep drop-offs and a heaping ton of debris.
It was like Mother Nature had been using the island for her castoffs: dead wood and decomposition and trash dredged up from the deep.
“Candidates, there are half as many of you as there were a month ago.” For once, a White Glove other than Victoria took the lead. Hope let her gaze linger first on Campbell, then on me. “And there are twice as many of you as there will be a month from now.”
The Candidates are many. The Chosen are few.I waited for someone to chime in with the phrase, but not one of the White Gloves did.
“Do you know why you’re here? Why you’ve made it this far?” Hope let the question hang in the air. “Do you know what the White Gloves really are?”
“Maybe you’ve heard rumors,” Nessa chimed in. “But you’ve only heard what we want you to hear.”
“You’ve heard,” Hope continued, “that we come from a certain kind of background and a certain kind of family.” That would have elicited an eye roll from me—and possibly a gagging sound—except that she followed that sentiment with these words: “Maybe you think that makes us powerful.”
“But you’re not here because you’repowerful.” Victoria didn’t bother trying to project her voice, and it was almost lost to a sudden gust of wind. I felt, as much as saw, the Candidates pulling in tighter, closer together as she continued. “You’re here because you know what it’s like to feel powerless. Everyone you see here has been given every privilege that money can buy, but at the end of the day, there are some privileges that money can’t buy. Money doesn’t keep people from telling girls who look like me to go back to the other side of the border. And no matter what your family name is, or how white your skin, I’m willing to bet that there are still people who tell you to smile, because you lookso prettywhen you smile.” She paused, just for an instant. “We all play by rules our brothers will never even have to know.
