Page 20 of Sins (The Sins Trilogy 1)
“Sorry I’m late,” she’s saying. “I spent most of the morning trying to convince Caleb to go to the hospital, but that boy is just as stubborn as a mule with arthritis.”
I almost sneer. Of course he doesn’t want to go. How’s he going to explain his injuries to a doctor? I sexually assaulted a girl and got my ass kicked by her cousin?
“Is he all right?” Aunt Margot asks. “What happened?”
“Oh, he got into a fight over some girl. Silly.” Mrs. Wentworth sighs, half embarrassed and half annoyed. “But what can you do? Boys will be boys.”
My lips press together. That dismissive “boys will be boys” attitude is why guys like Caleb exist.
“A fight? She must really be something,” Aunt Margot says in a gracious, indulgent tone.
“I don’t know. I tell him to be careful, getting involved with girls who don’t deserve him, but you know Caleb. Always thinking with that big, soft heart of his.”
Indignation and outrage burst in my chest, especially after Yuna told me what Caleb really meant to do with the drink. Before I can stop myself, I jump into the den. “There’s nothing soft about Caleb’s heart,” I say, bristling. “If he even has one.”
Shock erupts on Mrs. Wentworth’s face. Aunt Margot turns to me, her jaw slack. “Ivy, what on earth…?”
“I don’t know what he’s telling everyone, but it’s all lies.” I go over what happened, including how he deliberately tried to get me to have a drink known to knock people out fast, how he forced a kiss and groped me. “If it weren’t for Tony, believe me, Caleb wouldn’t have stopped there.”
Mrs. Wentworth turns bright red. “That’s a lie! Caleb isn’t like that!”
“Really? Why don’t you ask him? He ripped the black and white dress Aunt Margot bought for my competition last year.”
She’s visibly shaking. Aunt Margot’s eyes flash with fury and something else I can’t quite put my finger on. She turns to Mrs. Wentworth. “Belinda, I think you should leave,” she says, her voice unnaturally calm.
“Margot! You don’t really believe this? Whenever a girl feels bad about what she did at a party, she claims she was ‘forced’ to make herself feel better!”
I take a step toward her, furious. No wonder Caleb is such an asshole.
Aunt Margot’s terrible voice stops me. “What I don’t believe is that insinuations about my niece are the way to go here.”
Mrs. Wentworth pulls her lips in, but her face is red and her cheeks are puffy, like she’s barely restraining herself.
“I also don’t believe we can continue discussing the fundraiser right now, do you?” Aunt Margot says, her voice as smooth as ice.
After shooting me a death glare, Mrs. Wentworth gathers some brochures from the table and storms out. As she passes by, she mutters, “Little bitch. That sister killer didn’t do it for you.”
I inhale sharply, wondering if I misheard. But there’s no doubt about the vicious glitter in her eyes. She didn’t speak loud enough for her words to reach Aunt Margot. Not many people in this town want to make an enemy of my aunt. And Joel Wentworth in particular needs the Blackwood family’s support if he wants to remain sheriff of Tempérane.
Jonas materializes and escorts Mrs. Wentworth out. I clench my hands around my sheet music, loathing all the things she said.
Finally, Aunt Margot says, “Ivy,” and gestures for me to sit down, her face unreadable.
I take a seat and wait, biting my lower lip. Being under her unblinking gaze is almost worse than being told I was lazy by my first piano teacher because I half-assed my practice sessions. It takes an effort not to squirm.
“Why didn’t you say something?” Aunt Margot asks quietly, her tone devoid of accusation or anger.
“I did. Just now.” I clear my throat. “The earliest chance I got.”
She says nothing, but stares like she’s seeing through me.
“I just want you to know Tony’s a hero. He saved me,” I say, trying to deflect her a little and also wanting her to know how awesome Tony was.
Instead of looking proud, she looks conflicted. “Did he?”
“Yes. It would’ve been terrible without him.”
She looks away briefly, seeing something beyond the wall. “Wasn’t Harry there?”
“Yes,” I say, hoping I’m not getting him into trouble by admitting that.
“He should’ve looked after you.”
“But he didn’t know I went,” I fib, suddenly worried she might be angry with Harry. It isn’t his job to be my chaperone. Since I want Aunt Margot to focus on how Tony protected me, I add, “Besides, Tony—”
She raises an elegant hand, then stands. “I’m very happy you’re okay, Ivy. I don’t know what I would’ve done if…” She pauses to inhale shakily. “I’m tired. I think I’ll go rest. Excuse me.”
Then she walks briskly away. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was fleeing…from the fact that her son Tony did something heroic and good.
