CHAPTER EIGHT
Blair
Present
I stared at the uneven ends of my hair in the mirror, too stunned to move for a long time.
I was shaking. I loved my long hair, but I wasn’t shaken up because of that.
I wasn’t shaken up even because it was one of my sources of income or because I’d played right into his trap.
I was shaken up because of the lack of freedom and the punishment I never saw coming.
He knew why my hair was important to me, and he took that away deliberately, wanting to hit where it hurt the most.
And he had done that. In just a second, he’d caused an avalanche in my world, and I hated that he could hurt me this easily.
But what I hated the most was that the innocent, shy boy from high school was gone, turning into this guy who was capable of anything.
And it was all because of me. I’d destroyed that boy.
I closed my eyes, and tears spilled onto my cheeks.
I thought back to every time I’d hurt him.
I’d never enjoyed that shit. Every time I bullied him, I felt like less of a person, but he .
. . he looked like he was enjoying this.
Like he needed it. He was out for blood, and he wouldn’t be satisfied until he caused me pain.
I wanted to show him so badly how much the past haunted me, but he wouldn’t ever believe me or take it into account.
Taking a deep breath, I stood and moved over to my camera. I needed to let my thoughts out. I needed any semblance of control I could get, even if it was all temporary or trivial in the grand scheme of things.
I took a seat in front of the camera, turned it on, and began talking. And I didn’t stop until I felt collected enough to schedule an after-hours appointment with my hairdresser without sounding like someone had died or bursting into tears again.
Luckily, she could take me on, so I collected my bag with my phone and wallet, passing the shards and liquids of my now ruined makeup I’d have to clean up later if I didn’t want anyone to ask questions, and left the house before anyone could see me.
By the following morning, I’d come up with an excuse for my new hairstyle.
I was sure Mom was going to lose it not only because she thought I looked better with long hair but also because of my collaboration with the hair care brand.
They could cancel my contract, and since I came recommended to them through one of Mom’s contacts, Mom would surely think this would reflect badly on her.
My heart started beating faster as I stepped out onto the terrace, expecting to spot Zach somewhere around.
For the first time, I dreaded facing him.
He could do anything to me, and I wouldn’t even be able to stop it, and it felt like I was riding a roller coaster that I could fall off any moment now.
Plates bearing pancakes and fruits waited for me on the patio table, and I sat down. The terrace was my favorite place to eat because of the view of the garden giving way to the woods, and I decided to focus on the beauty of that instead of on the ugliness of what was going on with Zach.
Anna showed up with a glass of iced coffee for me, her lips widening into a smile when she saw me. “Miss Blair. A new hairstyle? It looks beautiful.” She lowered the glass in front of me.
Something warmed in me a little. I could always count on Anna to praise me and uplift me, and I knew she meant it. Sometimes she felt more like a mother to me than my own mother. Mom usually found something about me to critique and redefine.
“Thank you.” The new hairstyle wasn’t half bad.
I had the kind of face that was ideal for all hairstyles, and my hairdresser could do wonders with hair.
She evened the ends and cut the front strands a little shorter than the rest, so they were now framing my face softly, their brown shade turning almost hazelnut in sunlight, and I actually liked it.
It helped lessen the blow of what Zach had done to me.
I noted there were no other plates beside mine, which meant I was going to eat alone. “Where are Mom and Dad?”
“Mrs. Everett has left for a meeting, and Mr. Everett is at work.”
“And Melody?”
“She’s still sleeping.”
I shook my head, chuckling. That girl loved sleeping so much she could sleep a whole day. “So I’ll eat all by myself.” Which was a usual occurrence.
“Do you need me to keep you company?”
“No, thank you.”
She nodded. “If you need anything, let me know.”
“I will.” I took a sip of my coffee, watching her leave.
The birds chirped in the distance, and I tilted my head back and closed my eyes, taking a minute to just enjoy this beautiful, sunny morning.
My skin tingled just then, and I opened my eyes to see Zach leaning back against the terrace baluster, his arms folded over his chest as he watched me.
My heart missed a beat. There had been something raw in the way he looked at me, something unshielded I wasn’t sure he was even aware of, without a trace of hatred, but it was all gone the moment I spotted him.
“What do you want?”
He pushed himself away from the baluster.
“I didn’t doubt you’d already fix it.” He motioned at my hair, and my face heated.
He took measured steps toward the table until he reached the chair across from me, placing his hands on its back.
He appeared even taller when he was standing like this, and I hated that he deliberately did that.
Power imbalance and all that shit. “Too bad the new hairstyle doesn’t suit you at all. ”
I winced. Damn him, that actually hurt.
I assumed an “I couldn’t care less” expression and reached for my coffee, making sure my hand didn’t shake so he didn’t see how much he affected me. “It’s good then that I don’t care what you think.”
“But you care what the world thinks.” He moved around the table and stopped right behind me.
I flinched as his hands came to grab the armrests on both my sides from behind me, lowering his head until it was level with mine.
Every inch of me was hyperaware of his nearness, and I drew in a sharp breath when he brushed the backs of his fingers across my jaw, tingles spreading over my skin.
“You care that your family’s and your image are pristine.
That no one can touch you. Because just like you, your whole world is fake, and nothing that you do is real. You all disgust me.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Do I? You fucking burned me after months of vicious bullying, and your dad neatly covered it all up. I couldn’t even press charges because I had no proof, and the law is not on the side of poor, trailer trash kids.”
I put my glass on the table with a thud. “Your mother is equally to blame. She accepted Dad’s money.”
“And used it to get herself into an early grave. She fucking overdosed on all the Ecstasy and heroin that money bought.”
I gasped, my chest throbbing. I hadn’t known he’d lost his mom.
Guilt wrapped around my heart all over, and a heavy feeling settled in my stomach. I could only imagine how he’d felt losing her just after what I’d done to him. The agony he must’ve been in.
“How did you survive after that?” I asked, unable to stop the question or mask the sadness in my voice.
He snorted. “Yeah, we’re not going there.”
I dropped my gaze, imagining him all by himself and feeling lonely. I understood why he didn’t want to tell me, but it only made me more curious about him.
“Where were you these last three years?”
A wave of cold radiated off him, sending a shiver through me. “Out there. Recovering.”
My insides twisted, and my fingers twitched with a sudden, irrational urge to comfort him. Wherever he’d been, the recovery must’ve been hell for him. And now, knowing about his mom’s death, I couldn’t even begin to fathom how much harder his life had been.
For the first time in a long time, I allowed myself to reflect on what he must’ve gone through after that day.
He was right—I hadn’t suffered any consequences.
My dad had made sure the incident didn’t reach the press, and no one but Aurora, Lana, and me knew it had happened.
The only major change in my life was Zach’s disappearance, and I’d convinced myself it was for the best, stuffing that whole incident into a box and refusing to revisit it.
I’d gone on to make plans for college—the college that would be to Dad’s and Mom’s tastes, of course—and made sure I had good grades and more than enough extracurricular activities to paint me as a very diligent and thoughtful person who led a “perfect” life, concealing all my mistakes of the past.
But he’d had to quit school, go through an extensive and most likely grueling recovery, and deal with the loss of his mom. And then there was his scar. Like a glaring reminder of what I’d done.
His screams filled my mind, and I was back there, watching the fire devour him right in front of my eyes.
I blinked it away, taking a deep breath.
“I never meant for it to go that far,” I blurted out.
He yanked my chair around on one of its hind legs, and my breath whooshed out of me as he grabbed the armrest with one hand and my chin with the other, getting into my face.
“Let me be clear about something. I don’t want to hear you mention that moment ever again, got it?
” he said through his teeth, his voice rising with each word.
His fingers tightened so hard on my chin that it was starting to hurt.
“You’re hurting me.”
“What about all the people you and your family hurt? You people never think twice about ruining others’ lives, but love showing up in public pretending you’re perfect and preaching about doing good for society when you’re the worst.”
“That’s so not true—”