The Other Girl - Page 38

I didn’t escape; I walked right out the front door. Dr. Leighton had signed my release papers…right before she penned a suicide note confessing her affair with her colleague and swallowed a bottle of pills.

Again, I hated to leave her in that state—but I had a new life to start. Besides, that’s a whole other story, one with a true villain and victim, and one that won’t be told. The past belongs in the past.

What’s important is Lanie survived her years inside, and now Ellis has a chance at freedom and love. But for that to happen, I can’t have Jeremy and Irina and even Dr. Leighton haunting Ellis’s life. In order to belong in Black Mountain, that past—and anyone who knows about it—has to vanish.

I take out the Zippo lighter and flick it open and closed, open and closed, as I watch Carter.

Yes, silence can be bought, but in reality, I’ve already achieved their silence. They simply don’t realize it yet. They’ve had weeks to approach me, to report me. They’ve done neither. Their desperation for money makes them weak, just like with Sue.

She made the same mistake and paid the price.

Doesn’t anyone ever learn from movies? You never hesitate or stall. If you make a threat, see it through. Otherwise, you give the villain the time they need to retaliate.

And I am the villain of this story, right?

I’m always painted as such.

Well hell then, let’s give these fuckers a truly villainous ending.

17

To What End

Ellis

Black Mountain’s elite congregate en masse at Alister’s mansion. This party is happening on a Friday, and the front of the house is cluttered with expensive cars. It’s late—but I don’t dare look at the time. With only a splinter of moonlight tonight, I don’t need to hide behind shrubbery to stay concealed.

I’m sitting in a used Honda parked alongside the street. So I could be inconspicuous, I crossed to a neighboring town and bought a cheap car with cash. The interior is worn and the dashboard is tacky to the touch, making my skin crawl.

I’m wearing a tight-fitting little black dress that accentuates all the right body parts. My hair curls in loose waves over my shoulders and my lips are painted blood-red.

I look nothing like the Ms. Montgomery who counsels students at BMA.

As time drags on, people start to leave. One by one cars disappear from the property. I stay inside the dank-smelling car for hours as I wait for the right boy to leave the party. When I spot him—stumbling and carrying a beer bottle—I exit the car and lean my hip against the hood.

Sully is clearly intoxicated, but that doesn’t stop him from noticing the scantily-clad woman eyeing him from across the street. He squints in my direction, as if that will help clear his vision.

“Hey,” I call out, making sure we’re the only two out here. “Want a ride?”

He laughs to himself. “I know who you are.”

He thinks he does, but he has no idea what I’m capable of.

“Oh yeah?” I say, pushing myself up onto the hood and crossing my legs. His unfocused gaze drops to the thigh-high slit that travels up my dress. “Who am I?”

He takes a swig of his beer bottle, then waves it at me, sloshing liquid over the amber rim. “You’re trouble.”

“Says who?”

“Says that fucking douchebag Hensley.”

White-hot anger licks my spine, and I curl my hands into tight fists. He’s lying. Carter would never talk about me that way—especially with some guy he loathes. We’re a secret.

An insolent little voice whispers: He told Addison.

Fury swirls in the pit of my stomach like a hot cinder. I sweep my hair from my shoulder and lift my chin. “Let’s not talk about Carter.”

&

Tags: Trisha Wolfe Dark
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