Page 42 of Let Me
“Okay,” she says with a little laugh, “what’s wrong?”
“I…I need a place to stay. For a day, maybe two…and I know your parents used to—”
She cuts me off with another laugh. “Oh my God, Riley. You can live at The Villa for all I care,” she gushes, and something like relief rolls through me. Because she sounds genuine. Not like I’m putting her in a pinch. “I own the place now, parents retired and moved to Mexico.Bastards,” she says with a smile in her words. “But in exchange, you’ve got to do something for me.”
She waits for me to respond and I realize my free hand is clenched so hard, little half-moons are forming in my palm. It’s not that I don’t owe her, because obviously I do. It’s just that her words sound so much like Rolland’s when he made our little deal that I want to vomit.
“Anything,” I manage through gritted teeth.
“Have dinner with me tomorrow night?”
I exhale a sigh of relief and feel myself genuinely smiling.
“Of course,” I answer breezily. “Thank you so much. You have no idea how much this means to me—”
“Honestly, Ry, save your breath. It’s nothing. The place isn’t packed. Tell the receptionist your name when you come in, and really, stay as long as you want. I’ll tell them the room is filled for the next two weeks.”
“Morgan, that’s way too long—”
“No one will force you to stay,” she says with another laugh. “But if you need it…it’s yours.”
We hang up, her promising she’ll meet me at the hotel for dinner, and I blow out a breath. Now I just have to figure out how the hell togetto Haven.
After digging around in my bag, I find enough change to take the train there. I’ll have to walk from the stop to the hotel, but I don’t mind walking, and it’ll only take me half an hour.
On the train ride, I think about Caden.
Even though I don’t want to.
I can’t stop.
I can’t stop thinking about that night. About all the others I’d longed to beright there, inhislap, and not Jack’s. How I held my breath every time he came into a room at the Virani’s house. How he made me nervous, but I felt safe when he was around. Safer than I ever did with Jack. How I can’t believe that this is us now. Nothing. Less than nothing. Because indifference is one thing. Hatred is another thing entirely.
But of course, it isn’t Caden who texts me on the train ride.
It’s Rolland.
You’re making a huge mistake. What do you think Caden will make of our little secret?
It isn’t an empty threat. Even though it implicates him just as much as me, he won’t show it to the police, of course. And there’s the matter of whose face is in it. That would be mine, not his. And it’s not the police I’m worried about. That’s not who he plans to hurt. No, he’ll show it to someone who has already seen it. And he’ll fill them in on that missing piece. Caden would never bother with the police. Hell, Caden wouldn’t know when it was taken anyhow, or why. He’ll believe what it shows. He’ll believe I wanted it.
I don’t respond to Rolland. My stomach feels sick, but I refuse to give him anything else. Ordering me to that summer party was too far. He knew it would piss Caden off. He knew it, and he probablywantedjust that. Wanted to parade me around. To show Caden he owned me. Or at least to show everyone else.
I wanted to end this when I graduated. When I had money. When I could get a lawyer or hire someone like Benji who seems to work in the shadows. Someone who could get the phone and get the video and every copy of it that exists and wipe it off the face of the earth.
I realize I might have to drop out of school. And honestly, I don’t give a shit. I’d rather do that then live under Rolland’s fucking thumb any longer. He might send it to my school. A private, Christian school. Not that I’m religious, but they gave me a full ride, and they won’t take kindly to that kind of thing. Especially because it looks consensual, if you don’t look hard enough.
I should have told someone about this then. I should haveimmediatelytold Caden the truth.
I was stupid.
Not the first time.
Probably, I think with a sigh as I lean back in the train’s seat, not the last either.
I get off at my stop, happy to see the sun still high in the sky. I use my phone to find walking directions to the hotel, and then I set off, wondering how the hell my life turned into this mess. I don’t feel sorry for myself, I’m just genuinely shocked. How does one fuck up their life choices so badly?
The walk is nice. It’s hot outside, but not nearly as hot as summer in North Carolina. I scroll through my phone’s calendar to make sure I won’t miss any exams this week, but I’m in the clear. Summer classes are laid back, and I know I’m not risking failing or anything by skipping this week. Usually, I never skip.
