Chapter 34
Malcolm McKinsley isn’twho I thought he was.
Psychotic? Yes.
Manipulative? Check.
Fuelled with darkness? No doubt.
He’s also a fucking hero.
“You gave these girls thousands of dollars each?” I ask, back in Mac’s spaceship car as we drive down the highway.
A stack of papers sit in my lap, the words on them almost unbelievable. While I’ll never forget Red’s, it makes me feel like it was worth it. I have to believe that.
“I don’t think the boys will ever look at that site again.”
“They can’t,” I remind him. “It’s shut down. Thanks to you.”
It isn’t until I see the sign for The Hill that I tense up. And he notices right away. “You need me to pull over so you can hurl your guts out?” His casual tone settles that chill rolling up my spine.
Despite everything, he still doesn’t treat me with pity. He doesn’t treat me like a broken doll.
He treats me like his Butterfly.
“You didn’t say we were coming to The Hill. You know I can’t be here.”
“It’ll be okay,” he says.
“Not for me.” Sure we’ve gotten some things sorted, but the case on Beau isn’t closed. He knows that. And with his father out of the picture, he doesn’t have any leverage.
“Not for long.”
The police precinct is one of the first buildings to come into view when we cross into The Hill. Maybe Mac’s right, I”m going to hurl. Especially when he pulls in.
“Mac?” He parks the car and I lower my body, hiding. Then it hits me. “No.” My head whips to him with wide eyes. “You’re not doing that.”
“I am.” He turns to me, those cold eyes melting my fucking heart. “I’m the reason for this. I’m the reason you lost Jake. I’m the reason you ended up in that hellhole.”
“I shot you.”
“So fucking what?” I blink at his immediate response. “I deserved it.”
It’s hard to breathe as my hand reaches for his thigh. “No, Mac. You don’t. Listen, you can’t do this.”
“The only thing I have left to lose now, is you.” His hand comes to my face. “And I’m not doing that.”
A tear streams from my eye and hardly rolls down my cheek before he wipes it away. “But I’ll lose you.” My voice comes out a shaky whisper. “I just got you back.”
“So what do you suggest we do? Go into hiding? Be fugitives forever?”
Then I realize how insane I am when I say, “Yeah! Yes!”
A small smirk appears on his face. “I’m not taking your dream away from you again. You go back in that school and hold your head high. You deserve to be there.” He pulls his key from his pocket, placing it in my hand. “You deserve it all. I’m not clipping your wings anymore. The house, the car, everything is yours. Rightly so.”
“Fuck off, Mac.” My grip on his thigh tightens, the fabric of his slacks in my grasp. “We fly together, McKinsley. After everything? I have your back too. You’re—you’re all I have left.”
“I have to face my truth and you have to face yours.” He pulls that phone from the glove compartment, holding it in his hand. “Now, not another word.” Then he leans in, planting those soft lips on mine, a taste I’ll remember forever. When we part, that cold washes over me again. This time, it’ll linger. “I love you, Butterfly. Thank you for giving me purpose.”
And that fucking shatters me.
It shatters me more when he gets out the car.
I damn near crumble when I see him walk into that precinct.
I’m not sure how long I sit in the passenger seat of his car waiting for him. Waiting for his money to get him out of this again, or for the McKinsley name to make it all better.
But he never does.
And I don’t know when he will.
A knot tightensin my stomach when I pull up to Saint Bons the next morning.
The school looks even bigger than I remember as I park his Bugatti back in his spot. Flipping down the mirror, my eyes tell the story I don’t have to.
I haven’t slept. I waited all night by my phone for news hoping they gave him a time out. Or put him in a cell with some drunkard to show the rich kid not to fuck up.
But nothing.
When I called the precinct, they wouldn’t give me any information and I was still too scared to give them my name.
Staying in that mansion without him is impossible. I booked a night at the Emerald instead. But it still didn’t bring the comfort I’m used to. So I curled up in the driver’s seat of his car until the sun rose.
The world feels like one big blurry bubble when I”m out the car in his black sweats. They overtake my body but I don”t care. It smells like him.
I’m late for class but once I’m there, it’s no different. I don’t feel the motivation or inspiration to work or create. All I can do is sit there. Any vibrancy that was in this place is gone without his presence. Any vibrancy within me is gone without him.
How the fuck am I supposed to get through a semester without Mac?
I keep thinking that he’ll show up or be around a corner. Or sweep me off my feet when I least expect it. But that moment never comes. I only make it halfway through the day before I crave a bed. I can’t go back to that mansion, so I’ll curl up in a room at The Emerald, order room service and fade into darkness.
I love you, Butterfly. Thank you for giving me purpose.
It’s all too much without him.
As I leave the main building, I’m ready to get in that car and disappear. But my feet slow.
Tilting my head to the side, my eyes zero in on an image posted on one of the columns framing the main doors.
Moving closer, the image becomes clearer, my eyes narrowing. It’s a woman naked in the grass, green surrounding her tan body with nothing left to the imagination. It looks like something from a gallery, the symmetry giving it a touch of class. But one thing’s for sure, it’s a nude. A nude of someone I know way more than I’d like to.
“Hannah?” I mutter to myself. Blinking, I make sure I’m not too tired to see. My eyes scan the rest of the column, filled with the same photo, over and over again like a pornographic collage. “What the fuck?”
“Hey, Ember!” A couple of students greet me as they pass, giggling at the image in their hand. The same one on the column. It’s like I’ve entered some bizarro world where people are nice to me while they laugh at Hannah.
Bang!
The doors to the main building swing open before a screech fills the air. “Ahhhhhhh!” Hannah’s screech. My head whips to the noise, her scream going straight to my head as I wince.
She stomps out in a white pantsuit, flared with cutouts on the side. She heads to the column before ripping the images off with those long nails. My brows lower, watching as she frantically tears at the paper like a kid opening a gift on Christmas. Except there”s no excitement and… oh fuck, are those tears in her eyes?
Looking back at the photos, my brows lower before I approach the column and rip off one of the images. Then another. And another.
Was this Mac? Was this his revenge on Hannah for taking the phone?
That red light flickers in my mind, Picasso, Evan. It makes me rip down the images with more force. No one should have access to her body if she doesn’t want them to.
Hannah glances over at me as I strip the column. The photos are tacked on so tight, it’s hard to get down. Her panicked rips slow, her eyes glancing at me again. Glancing back, her arms drop before she turns to me. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like?”
“Are you helping me?”
I shrug. “Looks like you don’t want these here. It’s your body.”
Silence.
She comes over to my column, helping to get the rest of the images off. We don”t say a word until most of it is gone. Then we move to the wall with more images, pulling them down together. I’m afraid to ask how many of these exist.
“Thank you,” she says, her voice quiet. We continue ripping down the pictures in silence, balls of crumpled paper building in our hands. It takes a moment before she speaks again. “Hey Ember?”
“Yeah, Hannah?”
“I’m… I’m sorry I blamed you for Beau’s death.” Hannah’s apology makes me stop. Did I hear that right? “I really should’ve known Mac had more to do with it. I just hated that you’re here.” I’m way too tired to process the strangeness of the situation. Is Hannah being… human?
Pulling down another one of her nudes still reminds me she doesn’t deserve this. “I’m sorry Mac’s a fucking idiot.”
“Wait, you think Mac did this?” My brows furrow as Hannah looks around. Then she leans in, her sparkly cheeks turning red. “It’s Ryung.”
Now I’m confused. “Why would Ryung post nudes of you all over the school?”
She moves in closer, as close to me as we’ve ever been. “I shared his dick pic with the posse and Marisol couldn’t keep it to herself.”
Am I dreaming? “I’m way too tired to hear about whatever freaky shit you guys get up to.”
Hannah slaps my arm. “It wasn’t some weird Paradise orgy, it was just him and I.” Looking at her only makes me blink more. “Okay, Ryung and I hung out at the gardens after Mac became too preoccupied with you. We were both bitter and washed it down with a lot of Don Julio. And things got… weird.”
“Uh,” I stall, unsure of what to say. “You okay?”
“Wait, I wasn’t done. I’m sorry I shared that video.” She continues flooring me. “I really thought it was you. And I’m sorry things got so competitive with Mac. He’s dead hot but I mostly wanted him for status. Otherwise, he’s kind of a handful.”
“You’re telling me.”
We share an actual laugh, and if you asked me if I’d be talking, much less laughing with Hannah Alfonso, I’d call you delusional.
“It’s clear you’re more his type,” she says. “You can handle him. And of course, you can. I only pretended I could.”
“That’s actually really nice, Hannah.”
“You started it. This doesn’t mean we’re friends. But maybe I don’t hate you. I won’t forget you helping me.”
“It’s about time we stop competing with each other, don’t you think?” There are way more important things. “Competing over a guy is just stupid.” Hannah doesn’t respond, still tackling the wall. But I see a small smile on her face as one pulls at mine. Hannah and I are a long way from friends but this is a start.
My smile fades, the person that got me here appearing in my head. So does her text.
Pls come back
Turning to Hannah, I wonder if she can help with one last thing. “Hey, do you know what happened to?—“
“Ember?”
Turning to that voice, the person in front of me answers the question in my head. “Greta.”
The sunlight hits her, standing at the bottom of the main building steps with a fresh cut and a crisp outfit. Her red and brown plaid dress fits her body, a chunky beige sweater to match. Combined with her polished Mary Janes, Greta looks better than I’ve ever seen her.
“You’re okay.” A smile comes to my face and like we’ve known each other forever, she runs to me, her arms draping around me. “I’m so fucking sorry, Greta.”
“You?” she pulls back, her eyes blurry. “I’m sorry. I heard about your uncle and what happened in Newhaven and… well, I’m just so happy to see you. I heard you were back.”
“Don’t apologize,” I say to her. “I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me. Especially after you got arrested.”
“Mac didn’t tell you?” she asks.
“Of course, he didn’t,” Hannah pipes in, pulling down another nude.
“He somehow got me out that day I got arrested and told me to lay low. So I went to my dad’s house in the mountains. My profs were totally okay with me learning from home and in fact, it helped a lot. It was scary, but then everything felt better. I… I thought you knew.”
I wanted you to trust me.
My shoulders drop, a weight lifting off me.
He took care of everything.
Always does. “I’m glad I know now.” Hugging Greta again makes me feel close to him, like I just got a secret message.
Greta smiles, releasing me. “I’m sorry I told you to stay away from Mac. I think you guys might be good for each other.”
“That’s what I said!” Hannah pipes in again.
Greta’s head turns to Hannah, another awkward silence overtaking us. After all Hannah”s apologies, it”s easy to break the ice. “Okay, Hannah, why do you bully Greta?”
“Really?” Hannah pulls down the last nude on the wall with force. “Not surprised you never told the Vall…” Her voice trails as she glances at me with crumpled nudes in my hand. “Ember the truth.” She takes a big breath. “Should you, or will I?” Glancing at Greta, she looks at the ground. “Fine. She fucked Gray when we were dating.”
Woah.
“You weren’t together,” Greta says, her voice quiet.
“I’m so not having this conversation.” Hannah grabs the nudes out of my hand before she looks me in the eye. “Thanks, Ember.” Her posse joins her, crumpled paper in their hands. “See you around.” With an actual smile, she makes her way into the quad, posse following.
“So, has Hannah dated all the Crowns?” I ask, Greta still beside me.
Greta laughs, “Not Ryung. At least not yet.”
“And you! Gray Whitney? I thought you told me to stay away from the Crowns!”
Greta looks down at her feet again. “It’s a really long story.” She cringes. “I’m just happy you’re still here.”
Though I’m not sure I want to be. Not without him.
Talking about the Crowns without Mac feels weird. This entire place feels off without him.
Greta and I walk through the quad, quieter than usual. She catches me up on all I’ve missed but everything sounds muffled, that haze overtaking me again.
“I love you, Butterfly.”
“Thank you for giving me purpose.”
“I’m not clipping your wings anymore.”
Thing is, they’re clipped without him.
“When does Mac get out of rehab?” Greta’s last sentence jolts me out of my thoughts.
“Rehab?” My brows knit, a jolt to my chest. “Mac’s in rehab? Not in jail?”
“Uh, yeah?” Her head tilts. “Beau’s mom couldn’t put him behind bars and since alcohol was at play that night, she told the judge to send him to rehab instead. I thought you knew.”
A weight lifts off my chest and I do the first thing that comes to mind. I throw my arms around Greta and squeeze. She makes a sound as if I’m hugging the life out of her but I don’t care. That night with Mrs. Robinson paid off. “I didn’t know what was happening.”
“You’ll always know what’s happening in Paradise Hill if you listen close enough. It’s been the talk of the town.”
“I’ve been… a little out of it. How long is he there?”
“Six months,” Greta says.
Then that weight returns. Six months. One-hundred and eighty-two days without Malcolm McKinsley.
He’s not locked away forever for being the psychopath he is. This should be good. This should be freeing. But without Mac, I”m more of a caged butterfly than ever.
“There she is!” Another familiar voice comes my way before an arm slams around me. The whiff of Gray’s fresh cologne comes with him and when I glance at Greta, he has an arm around her too, her cheeks like two big strawberries. “If Mac’s a Crown, and you guys are a thing, that makes you royalty too.” His head turns to Greta. “Are you guys friends again?”
Greta nods, “Yeah, I think we are.”
And while I’m grateful to have my friend back, even that isn’t enough to pull me out of Mac’s withdrawal.
“Then you’re royalty too,” he says. “If you can keep up.”
“Keep up with what?” Greta asks.
“Tonight, in Ember’s honour, we’re holding a bash of all bashes at the now-empty McKinsley manor.”
I wince. I’m in no mood for a party and I’m about to protest when it hits me. Not only will having the new people in my life in my new home make it feel less haunting, but there’s something I’ve learned here. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.
“Let’s do it,” I say. “On one condition.”
“Name it,” Gray says. “Anything for you, Rookie.”
“Get me so fucked up I’ll need rehab.”