Chapter 8
AMELIA
After my classes for the day, I spend the evening in the dorm with Skye, having a mini spa session and trying to relax. I have a feeling once Blade gets back, it’ll be anything other than relaxing, so I’ll take it while I can. He said he’d be back for lunch today, but that was a lie because he was nowhere to be found. I can’t decide if that makes me feel bad or relieved.
I’ve been running through ways to potentially avoid him in my head, but it seems like a lost cause.
What, am I supposed to pretend I’m into someone I barely know? Just let him take whatever he wants from me? My dad said the only thing I can do is brace myself—what the hell does that mean? I guess I should stop worrying and cross that bridge when I get to it.
Skye and I are currently painting our toenails, and of course, I’m using my signature blush pink polish from OPI.
“Oh my God, Blade?!” Skye yells loud enough I’m sure the whole dorm hears.
I’ve spent the past half hour giving her the rundown of everything that’s happened, starting with the fight at cheer practice. I held off on telling her until now, but I knew I couldn’t avoid it much longer. Besides, who else can you vent to if not your best friend?
I sigh. “Yes. And I have no idea what to do.”
“Wow, he’s hot. Even hotter than Rhett, and that’s saying something. Score.”
“I wouldn’t care if he were the hottest guy on earth, he’s bad news! You said it yourself, he’s in a gang .”
“And so what? It’s not like he’s asking you to commit crimes for him. He’s rich and hot and popular—just focus on that.” She waves her hand dismissively.
“You can’t just ignore every red flag because a guy is hot and rich. Remember all that bad stuff you told me about him?”
“Those were just rumors and I—”
My phone rings loudly in the air, cutting her off. I put it on speaker so I can finish painting my toenails without smudging them.
“Hey dad, what’s up?”
“Amelia, this is our chance.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I just got word that Blade’s gone. Why didn’t you tell me earlier? We have to move quickly before he gets back.”
“Uh…” I haven’t spoken to my dad since he yelled at me, and now he’s not even calling to apologize. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, when has he ever apologized before?
“I’m taking you to someone’s house tomorrow. He has the power to stop Blade. I’ll pick you up in the morning, dress nice.”
“Okay.” I hang up, and Skye hums loudly, one of those exaggerated noises clearly meant to get my attention. “What was that for?” I ask, turning to her.
“Are you sure you want to go through with that?”
“What do you mean?”
“Were you not present in the conversation we just had? Rich, hot, popular. I thought you were going to go for it. It’ll sure get those bullies off your back. Plus, it’s practically the only way I can see myself being with Rhett. So you have to do it.” She pouts, her face scrunching up and her bottom lip poking out.
“I-I mean, I have to go with my dad tomorrow. He’ll make me.”
“Or you could call Blade and tell him your dad’s plan. That might ruin it.”
My eyes widen a tad bit. “Skye, I... I can’t do that. My dad might get hurt.”
She lets out an exasperated huff, then turns in her bed to face the wall, yanking the covers over her head. Her sudden, dramatic reaction catches me off guard—she didn’t even bother to put her nail polish away.
I sigh, tidying up my nail supplies and lying down with my feet dangling off the bed. So much for a relaxing spa day.
I just hope everything works out for the best tomorrow.
···
It’s the next afternoon—we’re late—parked in my dad’s black Mustang outside a large, three-story mansion about an hour from campus. My dad studies me closely, he can tell the signs of my nerves acting up: my foot tapping on the car floor, my hands repeatedly smoothing over the silk fabric of my dress.
In just the past week, I’ve stumbled upon a group of criminals, learned my dad is one of them, and to top it off, some crazy guy is trying to force me to be with him. And now, here I am, outside a Victorian-style mansion guarded by scary-looking men holding even scarier-looking guns. Some of the guns are nearly as tall as I am.
I’m half expecting bats to swoop down and bite me with a disease while a piano riff plays in the distance. Or maybe I just watch too many horror movies. That last one with the old mansion was—
Damn it, I’m overthinking.
“Amelia, calm down. Everything will be fine.” Yeah, to him. This stuff is usual to him, it’s all new to me. “I’m glad he had time in his schedule today to meet with us. Usually, it takes a while to even get him on the phone.”
“Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“Yes.” His gaze drops to my neck, lingering on the necklace, and his expression hardens into a scowl. Or maybe he’s looking at the bite mark that still wants to show itself, despite the layers of makeup I tried to cover it with. I still can’t believe Blade did that in front of my dad. And then had the nerve to do my hair after? I mean, it did turn out kinda cute… but still!
“And take that thing off your neck,” he says with a sour face. I take it off, and he adds, “Don’t tell him you’re here about that fucker. Don’t even mention Blade’s name. Just get it in writing that whoever is bothering you has to stay away. The way the hierarchy works, he’ll have to do it.”
I smile and nod, trying to push my nerves to the back. Even though I don’t like the sound of this. One of the armed guards leads us to an in-home elevator, stopping at the top floor.
Here we are—no turning back now.
They leave my dad waiting in the hallway as I step into an office suite behind frosted glass doors. It’s fancy, but a little outdated, much like the outside of the house. Behind the large desk sits a man in his late fifties, with salt-and-pepper hair, a neatly trimmed beard, and an I run this place aura to him.
He gestures towards a blonde woman in her thirties typing in the corner. “This is Cindy. She’s here to record everything that is said. You may sit.” I take a seat, and he dives right in. “So, you’re having trouble with someone from the Serpents bothering you, huh?”
The Serpents. So that’s the name of the group. Fitting, since they’re probably all conniving snakes.
“Yes, sir.”
He chuckles lightly, like this kind of complaint happens often for him. “Tell me a little about it.”
“Um, well… He just approached me, actually, forced me to see him at a party. That’s when he told me I had to be with him. I went to my dad for help, but he wouldn’t back down, so my dad thought it’d be best for you to intervene.”
He hums. “I’ll go over your complaint, talk to your dad to get more details, and let him know by tomorrow. Sorry, I don’t have more time today. I’m running late for lunch with my wife.”
Crap. I knew stopping in that long brunch line would backfire on us. My dad can never make it anywhere on time.
The logical part of me knows if I don’t get that paper today, my dad will find some way to blame it on me—whether he’ll criticize the way I spoke, the way I dressed, or how I didn’t show the proper respect.
“Thank you, sir. I’ll look forward to your answer.” I start to rise, but he stops me.
“Oh, I never caught your name, young lady. You go to Crestview, right? How old are you, and what year? My daughter is new there and she could use some friends.”
“Amelia.” I flash my best beaming smile, trying to make a good impression. This guy seems like the type you need to make a good impression with. “I’m a freshman, but I’m nineteen because I repeated a year in high school.”
Why did I just tell him that? I always overshare when I’m nervous.
“Amelia... Amelia . Hm.” The way he repeats my name, like it’s sour on his tongue, makes my stomach churn. He sucks his teeth, and suddenly the atmosphere shifts. His once somewhat friendly eyes narrow, turning dark. “That name sounds familiar.”
I shift uncomfortably in my seat, suddenly finding the artwork behind him as fascinating as the Mona Lisa. Anything to avoid looking him directly in the eyes.
After a long pause, he says, “I’ve reviewed your complaint, Amelia. And my final answer is no. Don’t bring any similar matters to me in the future.”
“What? I-I thought you said you’d give your final answer by to—”
The darkness in his eyes zero in on me, making my throat tighten and rendering me speechless. I try to swallow the lump now forming in my throat, but it doesn’t help.
“You should’ve known better than to come here with such a foolish request,” he hisses. “Blade is like a son to me. He talks about you constantly. Amelia this, Amelia that. To be honest, I’m tired of hearing your name.”
His words hit like a slap to the face, knocking the air from my lungs. I pause, weighing my response carefully. “My dad and him don’t get along. I’m scared they’ll hurt each other.”
“Cindy, stop typing,” he orders, then lowers his voice. “Listen closely. If you hurt Blade, I will kill your dad and not even think twice about it.” I gasp, my eyes wide. “If you break his heart, I know over sixty different ways to kill a person, and I’m learning new ones every day.”
The weight of his not-so-subtle threat presses down on me like a suffocating blanket. It’s hard to breathe. Panic claws its way up my throat as I grapple with the terrifying ultimatum.
Be with Blade or... my dad dies ?
He’s far from the best dad, but he’s the only family I have left, unless you count my junkie aunt in California.
“Speaking of Harvey—” He presses a button that leads to an intercom system. “Let him in.”
A few seconds pass, and my dad strolls in smiling, oblivious that we’ve been caught, and that I now basically hold his life in my hands.
“Hello, John.” My dad gives him the same beaming smile I tried to win him over with. “I hope all is going well.”
“Did you know she came here to get away from Blade?”
My dad’s face falls faster than a skydiver without a parachute, and the danger we’re in feels just as deadly. “Yes, I did,” he admits, sighing.
“Why would you do something like that, Harvey? What was your plan once I found out?”
“I thought… I don’t know what I thought.” My dad’s shoulders slump. “Maybe the letter would get him to back off long enough for him to give up.”
John chuckles. “Give up? I think you’re sorely mistaken about his intentions with your daughter if you expected him to just give up.”
“I know his intentions.” My dad’s jaw tightens. “She’s my daughter. This was a last resort. I had to try something.”
Intentions? Can someone say these intentions out loud so I can know them too? They’re talking about me like I’m not even here.
“I know, and I understand.” John half-sighs. “Which is why I’ll only send you to the dungeon for three days. I was thinking a week at first.”
“What?! No, I can’t go back there!” my dad pleads, and he genuinely looks like he’s about to piss his pants. He springs up from his seat, as if he’s about to make a break for it, and John’s eyes narrow on him.
He’s going to hurt my dad if he runs. “Wait, no, don’t do this. I’ll be with him. Please,” I blurt out, desperate.
“Okay,” John says simply. “Stay for lunch, I have someone I want you to meet.” My dad and I pass a surprised look to each other. I was sure it would take more begging than that, and from the looks of it, so did he.
A maid meets me outside the office and guides me down a long hallway. We stop at a door near the end, and she opens it, stepping aside for me to enter. The room has an earthy, garden-like vibe, filled with plants and moody dark green decor.
A redhead girl sits on the bed, about my age, dressed casually in ripped jeans and an oversized dark green tee. There’s something about her that feels… enchanting.
She reminds me of Ariel, and no, not just because of the hair color.
She looks up from her phone, her face lighting up when she sees me. “Wow, you’re hot!”
I blink, caught off guard. “Oh my God, uh, thanks? You too.” She waves me over, and I sit on the bed, moving a stuffed animal to the side. There must be at least two dozen of them scattered throughout the room. I think it’s cute.
“I’m Frankie. So, you go to Crestview, right? My dad just texted me a little about you.”
I nod. “I’m a freshman there. Amelia.”
“Me too. How do you know my dad? You don’t look like you belong here. You look too good and nice.”
“My dad brought me here. Because I’m… kind of trapped in a situation with this guy your dad knows and so far have no way out of it.”
Frankie raises an eyebrow. “What’s the guy’s name? Maybe I can help.”
“You’re so nice, but I don’t think you can help. His name is, uh, Blade.”
“Wow. A girl like you does not belong with a guy like him.”
“What’s wrong with him?” A knot of anxiety twists in my stomach. Please don’t say he’s an ax murderer or something.
“He’s insufferable.”
“Insufferable how?”
She shrugs. “He just is. Always trying to get on my damn nerves. What’s your dad’s name?”
“Harvey Ellis.”
“Harvey with the beer gut? Ew, I hate him.”
I chuckle, mainly because most people have that reaction after getting to know my dad. “Well, what’s it like being John’s daughter? He doesn’t seem all too peachy either.”
“No clue. I barely come here. I was just here to pick up some of my stuff and he asked me to stay for lunch.” She reaches over to grab her phone. “Hey, we should totally hang out some time at school. I’ll give you my number.”
“I’d like that.”