15. Sammy
15
SAMMY
M y brittle smile is starting to crack by the time I close my bedroom door in my new house in Cambridge, Massachusetts. The house that Eloise—Drew’s cousin—has been living in for the last three months is a cute three-bed, three-bath house about a twenty-minute walk from the Harvard campus, situated on a quiet residential street full of families and young professionals.
The siding is painted a gray color, and the front door is a complementary shade of anthracite, covered with a small porch. My bedroom has white walls, a king-sized bed with pale-gray sheets, and a decent-sized closet. There’s a desk beneath the window with a gray leather chair and a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall.
My things have all been unpacked and neatly stored, and in theory, this place should feel like home, but it doesn’t. After the last of my things were hung in the closet, Drew, Eloise, my parents, and Drew’s parents and I all went out for dinner. From there, Drew’s and my parents left for the airport, Eloise headed for the library for a study group, and Drew kissed me on the cheek, told me he loved me, then got in his car and went home.
Lowering myself to sit on the bed, I glance around the room and can’t help feeling like I’m living someone else’s life. This is my first night here, and instead of spending time with my fiancé or getting to know my new housemate, I’m alone, in a strange house, in a strange town, wishing I was in California with my friends.
Right now, they’re probably at a party, and Starling, January, and Bunny will be arguing with the guys about what they’re wearing or how they should be allowed to go for a girls’ night without the guys tagging along.
They could be having dinner in the kitchen, family style, laughing and joking like the actual family they are. Or they might be camped out in the small family room watching crappy reality TV, or just be hanging out in their rooms, happy and together.
Even though I know I can’t cling to that life anymore, a part of me wishes I was there. I miss Starling and the girls. I miss Hunter’s food, Clay’s jokes, and Sebastian’s insanity. I even miss Evan. I miss the way his eyes were always on me, even though he barely ever spoke to me.
My gaze drops to my ankle and the gold anklet I really should have had cut off by now. I haven’t told anyone else about it. Or about the earrings and clothes that keep appearing while I’m asleep.
Darting my gaze to the ceiling, I search for hidden cameras or some sign that he’s followed me here, and instead of revulsion, I feel…hope. I don’t want him here. I don’t. But he’s a connection to the life I’ve left behind, and the part of me that still craves the kind of world-destroying toxic love that Starling and Sebastian share is hopeful that he’s already here somewhere, waiting to sneak into my room and leave me some new, odd gift.
In the last week, he’s stolen all of my jewelry, and I’ve woken up wearing stunning new earrings in my ears twice. He’s taken my clothes and replaced them with gorgeous, sexy, but still conservative pieces that have somehow managed to merge both Samantha and Sammy’s styles together into a new version of the old me.
He’s come into my room every night, taken something, then replaced it with something else, and I still haven’t seen him. He wants me to know he’s been there, but he hasn’t woken me up or contacted me.
I don’t understand this game he’s playing, and neither does Starling. We’ve spoken more in the last week than we have in the last three months, and now that I’ve stopped trying to put distance between us, I honestly don’t know how I thought I could live my life without her. She’s the only person I’ve confided in about Evan, and even though she’s the most well-versed person I know on the crazy way Sebastian’s friends behave, she still looked perplexed when I told her about the things Evan has taken and the things he’s left behind.
I don’t understand what he’s trying to do by giving me beautiful jewelry and new clothes. The only thing that’s marked the gifts as coming from him is that they all have the letters E and M on them at least once. All of the shoes have the same monogram that’s engraved onto the padlock charm on my anklet burned into the leather of the sole, and the clothes all have it sewn into the fabric. The earrings have it engraved into the metal, and one pair even has the monogram just visible through the perfectly clear diamonds.
I might not have been a victim of the guys’ crazy brand of love, but I have borne witness to Sebastian, Clay, and Hunter laying claim to their women, and none of them have ever done anything as subtle as having their initials put into their clothes.
When the others have set their sights on a woman, they’ve bulldozed their world, assumed complete control, and obliterated all arguments and opposition. Which is why I don’t think these gifts have anything to do with Evan trying to brand me. But if he’s not trying to make me his, what is he doing, and why am I just letting him do it?
I love Drew, I honestly do, but Evan creeping into my bedroom while I’m asleep and leaving me gifts feels like him making the first move in a game where I don’t know the rules. I know that I shouldn’t want to play anything with another guy, but I’m too intrigued to just end the game before I’ve even taken my turn.
It’s why I’m still wearing the anklet, why I haven’t told my family, or reported his visits and gifts to the police.
Sebastian watched Starling for two years, and maybe that’s what Evan is doing. Maybe he’s just watching me, the same way he’s watched me since we met.
Turning to look out the window, I wonder if he’s watching me now. My new bedroom looks out over the row of almost identical houses on the opposite side of the street. As I stare at the room that mimics mine, in the house directly across the street, the light suddenly turns on, and standing in the window, staring back at me is Evan.
Blinking, I look away, then back out the window again, wondering if I’m imagining things. But when I turn my gaze back to the house opposite, Evan is still standing there, staring back at me.
Pushing up from the bed, I cross to the window and mirror his position. Even from across the street, I can see the corner of his lips pull up into an amused smirk as he lifts his hand and curls his finger, beckoning me to him.
I don’t even realize I’m moving until my feet are in my shoes and I’m standing on the street, staring at the house opposite, still unsure if he’s actually here or if I’ve imagined him.
When the front door opens, I track his movement as he steps outside. “Hello, Wild One.”
“Evan?”
Turning his back on me, he steps back into the house, and I follow after him even though I know I shouldn’t go. I know that no good can come from following Evan anywhere, but my feet steadily move until I’m inside the house and he’s closing the door behind us.
“Evan, what are you doing here?” I ask, still following as he moves farther into the house toward a brightly lit kitchen.
“Here,” he says, passing me a bottle of the wine cooler Starling and I have taken to drinking back at Kingsacre.
“Evan,” I snap, taking the bottle from him while he avoids answering me. “Evan, why aren’t you at school?”
“Congratulations on your engagement,” he says, reaching for my hand and tilting it from side to side to admire the diamond.
“Thanks,” I whisper, suddenly uncomfortable.
“When are you bringing him to meet us? I know Sebastian has some questions for…Drew.” Evan’s tone is completely cordial, which is oddly more sinister than if he’d outright threatened my fiancé.
“He’s busy. He has school.”
“Then it’s a good thing that between us, we have access to four private jets. You can fly in for dinner and be home in time to sleep in your new bed,” he says, smiling widely at me.
“I’m not sure we should use your family’s private jets,” I mutter.
“It never bothered you when Sebastian sent the jet for you when it was Hunter’s wedding.” Evan points out.
“Well, that wasn’t planned. Sebastian just told me I was traveling on the jet.”
“So, you need to have your travel plans controlled. I’m happy to control you in any way you need.” His eyes narrow in sinister delight. “This weekend, you and Drew will be traveling on my dad’s jet back to Kingsacre so you can introduce your fiancé to your friends. There, is that better? Now, you haven’t planned to use the jet. The plans have been made for you.”
“I think Drew has a prior engagement,” I say, unsure why I’m fighting this so hard. At some point, I will have to introduce Drew to the people I’ve spent the last year with. I’ll have to admit who they are and who their families are. I’ll have to explain that my seven closest friends are three married couples and the man I’ve been lusting after since the moment we met.
Unless, of course, I cut them all out of my life. That’s what Drew wants. He said as much when I mentioned going to California to collect my things. He suggested that I leave that part of my life behind, leave the friends I made behind. But can I do that? Can I accept that the only friends I’ll have will be carefully curated acquaintances? That the women I lunch with, socialize with, raise our children with, will be selected simply because of their positions and backgrounds and not because I have any kind of connection with them.
The thought of never having a drunken girls’ night ever again makes me feel bereft. I was Samantha of Drew and Samantha all through high school. I didn’t have a single friend who wasn’t Drew and Samantha’s friend until I met Starling. She’s the first friend I’ve ever had that’s just mine and not his, and I don’t want to lose her, but I don’t want to share her either. I don’t want her to meet Samantha, of Drew and Samantha, because she knows the real me, and she won’t recognize the person I am when I’m with him because I barely recognize myself.
My head’s shaking as I look at him. “I don’t think bringing him to California is a good idea,” I croak out.
“Okay, they can all come here. I’ll text Sebastian now.”
“No,” I shriek, slapping his cell out of his hand and hearing it hit the floor with a thud.
“You don’t want to introduce us to him?” Evan asks slowly, not even glancing toward his cell on the ground.
“It’s not that.” I try to protest.
“You don’t want to introduce him to us,” Evan surmises. “Are you ashamed of us, Wild One? Are you worried Drew will become one of us and suddenly want to put a tracker in his first lady’s neck?”
His tone has become taunting, and I inhale, straightening my shoulders as I face him down. “Drew isn’t like that.”
“That’s a shame. I bet you’d love to know he’s watching your every move. You’d get so fucking wet if he was monitoring your every step so he could blackmail you to keep you in line, wouldn’t you?”
I shake my head and make a sound that should have been a disgusted scoff but instead comes out more like a whine of need.
“Do you want Drew to claim you, Sammy? Do you want him to permanently attach this ring to your finger so it’d rip away the skin if you tried to take it off? Do you wish you were sleeping in his bed, pinned beneath his arm so he’d know exactly where you are at all times? Do you wish he was pumping you with his cum until you were full of his kid and tied to him forever? Do you wish he claimed you so overtly that you were wearing his name all over your body for everyone to see?”
His words force me from the trance he’d lulled me into.
“What did you say?” I ask.
“Which part?” he questions, leaning back, his smile wide and smug and daring me to ask him to repeat the words we both just heard him say.
“Forget it. Drew and I have plans this weekend. Maybe we can organize a get-together closer to spring break,” I say coldly.
“Huh.” He shrugs. “Maybe.”
“Are you living here now? Are you going to Harvard?”
“No,” he says, not giving me any information.
“So, when do you leave?”
“When I get what I came for,” he answers vaguely.
“I should go. I have class in the morning.”
Nodding, he crosses his arms over his chest and smirks. “Sweet dreams, Wild One.”
Handing him the now empty bottle of wine cooler that I don’t remember drinking, I turn around and leave, locking the door to my new house behind me as I let out a shaky breath.