Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Peach
Burning Down - Alex Warren
" P enny, principessa , what's wrong?" Dad Menacci asks as he watches the hired hairdresser and make-up artist work on me.
One is finishing straightening my hair to perfection while the other dabs the perfect amount of blush on my pale skin. I can't look like I put on too much make-up, but I have to look effortlessly perfect. In a few hours, we might be the family of the new Stoneview mayor.
"Nothin'," I mumble, but just as he can, I see the lines of worry on my face. The little vein on my forehead that isn't just for when I'm angry, but also when I'm desperately anxious.
It was hard to explain the cut on my cheek. Cheer accident, as if that makes any sense. They won't look too much into it, I'm sure of that, but Dad Sanderson was furious. It doesn't look good for the cameras.
"Is it because Dad took your phone?"
"I'm a twenty-two-year-old, and he's treating me like a teenager," I throw back, even though that's not the only reason I'm stressed.
Dustin could wake up at any moment. The Circle is angry at Wren. I'm waiting for news that I can't see because my father decided to act insane. No one in the house should have access to their phone and what is said about us online until after the result. He thinks our reactions could get caught by the journalists and we don't want that.
"Is this going to be our lives if we win?" I insist. "Because I won't be visiting so often if that's the case."
Menacci shakes his head. "It's an important day for him. Let him have this."
I lower my gaze, observing my twisted hands on my lap. I hate feeling this way. Every movement makes me a little sick. And I don't want to look unwell to others.
"You're beautiful," my dad says, putting his hands on my shoulders the second the women step away. "And that dress is going to look perfect on you."
Through the mirror, I eye the dress hanging not far from us. Dad isn't wrong; I'll look beautiful in it, but God, it's the most boring dress I've ever seen in my life. It's an ankle-length beige dress with a fitted bodice, and a modest round neckline to make sure no one around can accuse me of showing too much cleavage. The A-line skirt is slightly flared, and in case someone could accidentally see my shoulders, there's a cropped smart jacket to wear with it, the same color of the dress and with gold buttons.
"It looks like we're having dinner with the queen," I mutter.
"We're not. But we might be having dinner with the mayor."
He tickles my ribs, and I can't help but laugh.
I giggle. "You're such an idiot."
My smile relaxes him, and his eyes light up. My dads are always happy when I'm happy, and another layer of emotion is coated on top of the current ones. Guilt.
"Dad," I whisper, looking down again. "I'm sorry."
My pulse pounds in my ears when his face falls.
"What? Why? Penny, are you alright? Do you need help with anything? You know you can always talk to me."
For a moment, I can't breathe as my throat tightens. My parents and I might not share the same DNA, but we share something more important. Our hearts. Because all it takes is a tone in my voice for my father to understand I've been going through something. It doesn't matter how many times I'm the one who parents them, and it doesn't matter that they drive me insane. Truly…it doesn't even matter that they didn't birth me. Because they raised me. Full of love and craziness. I might be the most stubborn child ever raised, but I am loved.
"I love you," I finally say, my mouth bursting with all the love I have for him. "I love you, and I love Dad, and I'm sorry if I ever make you feel like you didn't love me enough. Or that I wanted other parents. I'm sorry for all the questions about my biological parents when I was growing up. Because the truth is, they might have hurt me deeper than anyone else, but you and Dad spent your life putting me back together. And I love you for it."
There's a proud half-smile on his face despite his eyes being sad.
"Oh, Penny," he murmurs, giving me a hug from behind. He presses a kiss to my cheek. " Principessa, your dad and I love you so much. You're the proof of our love. Of everything we can accomplish as a family. And now is a good time to tell you that we’re seeing that therapist again. We’re going to make it through because we want to be a family for you. We're so proud of you, but I'm even prouder tonight that you opened up to me. Where is all this vulnerability coming from?" He chuckles. "I'm not complaining, but it's unlike you."
"Ugh." I roll my eyes and dab the tips of my fingers under my eyes to make sure the tears don't go any further. "Stupid Wren Hunter."
He smiles brightly at me through the mirror. "Always liked that boy."
My cheeks hurt from the strength I'm putting into not smiling back like an idiot. "Me too," I whisper. "I like him a lot."
"Can I borrow your phone? My dad thinks I'm a child." I ask Ella the second she crosses the entrance to the living room.
We both smile at a journalist walking past us. She nods at us, saying, “only one hour left” excitedly.
The second she's gone, Ella's face falls, and angry eyes come to me. "If it's to contact Chris, or Wren, or Achilles…you know the kind of man I mean, then forget about it. They're all not answering, and I have no idea where they are."
"You tried all of them?" There's a black snake of anxiety slithering its way from my stomach and to my chest, making me feel sicker.
"Yes," she huffs. "Chris hasn't been answering his phone, so I tried all of them, because something is wrong."
She has no idea how badly that’s true.
I fake a reassuring smile, knowing there's no point in adding to her anxiety. There's nothing she can do right now.
"I'm sure they're just late. It's fine. Will you give me a minute? Alex is over there if you want."
I throw fake smiles and happy faces at whoever wants them as I walk through the crowd of my father's supporters, waiting eagerly to see if he'll be the next mayor. The second I find Elijah, I tap his shoulder and bring my lips to his ear.
"Meet me in front of the neighbor’s house in five minutes. It's urgent."
I disappear discreetly, my small heels clicking on the stone outside our house as I jog down the long driveway. Exiting our residence through a side gate barely anyone ever uses, I make my way to the next house, standing on the street in front of their gates for long enough to go crazy.
I'm pacing when Elijah finally appears. He’s still sporting bruises from Wren beating him up, and it’s hard to look at him without feeling guilty for this whole mess.
"Oh my god," I sigh. "You took forever."
"I got us drinks," he says. "You looked like you needed one. Are you okay? Are your dads putting too much pressure on you?"
I snatch the flute of champagne from him and down it, not caring one bit that it's been a week since I’ve touched a drink.
"We have a problem. Wren…I…I think he's in trouble with the Circle."
His face freezes just as he opens his mouth, stuck in his thoughts.
"Okay, well, that's between him and the Circle."
"Elijah, please. I know you guys don't get along. He told me what he did to your uncle. You can fault him all you want, but he loves me, and he keeps me safe…and I love him. If we're friends, if you care about me, help me."
Something flashes in his eyes, and for the first time in my life, I see that Elijah has a side he struggles to control too. It's not necessarily violent, but it's not exactly friendly.
"How can you ask this of me?" he snaps. "He's bullied me my entire life. Do you have any idea what it's like to live in Wren Hunter's shadow? No, you don't. Because you and your friends are popular. Because you've always had Wren on your side. I never had that. He made me his enemy, hurt me, and now I'm supposed to, what? Go to the temple and save him? What did he even do?"
"He put his life before mine," I answer simply.
Nostrils flaring, he looks away. "Is he there, then?"
"I don't know," I say with a softness I hope he can reciprocate. "All I know is that he was supposed to be here, and he's not. He’s not answering his phone, and the last time I saw him, Duval and your dad were threatening him."
"Ugh, Peach. Fuck. Fine. Let's get in my car."
"Thank you," I sigh with relief. "Thank you, thank you."
A minute later, we're driving down the Stoneview roads, on our way to the temple.
"All I can do is take you there, and we can ask about him, but we can't force any board member to release Wren if they're questioning him."
"I know," I answer, my tongue feeling a bit numb. "Ugh," I groan, suddenly lightheaded. "I forgot what alcohol feels like. It's not that nice."
"Yeah, well, stay awake, because I'm not sure I'll feel so nice facing this alone."
"Thank you," I say again. "I know you guys don't get along, but you're being the bigger person, and I love you for it."
The road ahead blurs, lines double. I close my eyes tightly.
"Fuck, I feel drunk. I…" God, my mouth can barely move anymore. "Is it because I haven't partied lately or something?"
"Oh no," Elijah says lightly. "That must be the sedative I put in your glass."
The sentence resonates in my mind just as my head falls forward. I force it back up, but it's my eyelids that struggle now.
"Wh-what?"
"You're losing consciousness because of the sedative I put in your glass," he repeats, as if it isn't outrageous.
The moment I try to stop my head from falling forward again, it flops back against the seat, and I can barely turn it to the side to look at him.
"I'm not feeling well," I mumble without any strength.
"It's normal, don't worry. We've played this game before, so I have no doubt you're going to be fine."
All I can hear clearly are my panicked breaths coming in and out of my mouth.
"Elijah…"
"I'm sorry, Peach. I like you, but I hate Wren more, and I think it's time he suffers. A lot."
He slows down as he enters a parking lot, and I recognize the back of Stoneview Country Club. We're at the temple. Already.
Wrapping a hand around my jaw, he holds my head up as the last grasp I have on my consciousness starts to slip away.
"If it can put your mind at ease, I know where Wren is. Here, in the dungeons. But I have some bad news for you, my darling." He smiles at me, and it’s like nothing I've ever seen before from him. It’s devilish, manipulative. Sick . "Dustin woke up, and he had a lot of things to say."