31. Mallory
MALLORY
Istared at the ceiling, unmoving, my body leaden against the mattress as my thoughts looped the same scene over and over again, stuck on repeat like a record with a scratch.
I should be stressed about being attacked tonight, and yet that took a back burner in my head next to my charade being exposed.
The precise second when the pieces clicked together and the look on Maddox’s face lived rent-free in my mind.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the memory, refusing to shed another damn single tear.
I’d cried plenty enough Friday night after he left and most of Saturday. I’d barely left my room.
But no matter how much I willed my eyes to stay dry, tears stung them. Apparently, I had more feelings to purge. Some moments, it felt as if the waterworks would never stop, and I couldn’t quite figure out why I was so worked up over a boy.
Yes, I liked him.
Yes, what I’d done was so pathetic and stupid, but I’d naively thought I wouldn’t be hurting anyone. Little did I know that the person who would be hurt the most by my actions was me.
I deserved it.
Jade curled against my side, purring softly as if she was doing her hardest to cheer me up, trying to spread some of her joy. My universe had collapsed around me. It might take a bit more than her tiny kisses to heal the pain inflicting my heart.
I could have lied to him about what I’d done. And hell, maybe I should have. Looking back with the brutal clarity of hindsight, lying might have been better than the truth. It might have preserved whatever fragile thing we’d been building.
Except lying was why I was in this mess.
Now he hated me.
And I couldn’t blame him.
What I’d done was stupid. Reckless. It went too far.
I didn’t recognize myself in the girl who’d orchestrated it.
I never meant to carry it to the point it went.
I hadn’t planned for weeks of escalation, but the more danger I seemed to be in, the closer I got to Maddox, and the more he looked at me. The more I liked it.
Totally fucked. I know.
But my brain couldn’t seem to process Maddox liking me any other way. He had a fiercely protective streak but only toward those close to him. I wanted to be close to him. So, yeah, I made up the whole stalker thing, making sure he was always there when the stalker struck. Well, when I struck.
I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes hard enough to see stars, pressure building behind my eyeballs until it hurt. It was so calculating. So monumentally, catastrophically stupid.
An idea sparked by Keegan. So I wrote the first note and stuffed it inside my textbook, knowing Maddox would see it because he couldn’t be bothered to bring his own book to class. His reaction had been better than I hoped, and the whole thing snowballed.
Each time, I told myself it would be the last.
Pathetic excuses.
It hadn’t been as hard as I imagined, slipping notes into my textbooks, planting them into my locker, or writing the message on the bathroom mirror. Those had been easy. The pizza delivery took a bit more planning and still worked out better than I dreamed, yet it was also my downfall.
Using one of my mom’s knives had been foolish. I’d gotten too comfortable and let my guard down. I learned more from Mom than she would care to know, but I’d still made a mistake, and now I was paying for it.
Admitting I was the stalker painted me to be someone I wasn’t…or didn’t want to be. This wasn’t the fresh start I dreamed of, but I also never accounted for Maddox. A boy hadn’t been a part of the future I wished for, not immediately.
Monday would be a shit show. I didn’t even want to think about going to school and facing him. How could I? I was so embarrassed. Would he tell anyone? Would the entire school know by first period? Mallory Hales—the girl who stalked herself for attention. Because that was how Maddox would see it.
My stomach twisted violently, nausea rising.
I groaned into my pillow. God, the mortification. Already, the paranoia of everyone talking behind my back trickled in, the humiliation burning before it even happened, scorching through me like fire.
Maybe I shouldn’t go back.
The thought settled in too easily, comfortable in its cowardice.
I could homeschool again. It was my last year. Did I really need to attend Public? Did I need the hallway chatter, the stares, and the constant reminder of what I’d done playing out in real time?
My dream of walking across a stage, graduating with a class, having that normal high-school experience I’d been chasing—
It suddenly didn’t feel worth it.
“Malibu?”
I flinched slightly at my mom’s voice, my body jerking before I could control it.
She stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, dressed in a classic black sweater and jeans.
A little too conservative than what I was used to seeing her in.
“You okay?” she asked, stepping inside my room with soft footfalls, concern etched into the lines around her eyes.
“You haven’t left this room in two days. ”
I pushed myself up against the headboard, forcing my features to brighten instead of the dark gloom that had overshadowed them the past two days.
“Yeah,” I assured, brushing a hand over Jade as she shifted beside me, her purring stopping momentarily before resuming.
“I haven’t been sleeping well. I’m just tired. ”
Mom’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Are you sure that’s all?”
No. Not even close.
Someone broke into our house. I faked being stalked. The boy I’m falling for hates me. I’m considering dropping out. Everything in my world is falling apart.
And all I wanted was my mom to wrap me in her arms and tell me everything would be okay.
And she would. If I just broke down and spilled out everything, she would help me pick up the pieces.
But I didn’t. I was on borrowed time as it was.
She would eventually check our security cameras, and I had no idea what she would see.
And it wasn’t that I thought she wouldn’t understand.
If anything, she would understand too well, but I couldn’t say it out loud.
So I swallowed it down and plastered on a smile.
“We should go before we’re late,” I said, swinging my legs over the side of the bed, choosing the route of redirection.
She studied me for a second longer, her head tilting slightly as if she was debating whether to push. “All right. Meet me downstairs in fifteen minutes?”
I nodded. It would give me just enough time to pull myself together and fix my face.
Maybe carrying this alone was my punishment. Or maybe I felt like I needed to punish myself. I didn’t know, but either way, whatever waited for me on Monday when I’d have to face Maddox would be torture enough.
I glanced once more at Jade before heading out of my room. “Wish me luck,” I muttered under my breath.
The drive felt longer than it should have. Or my brain was just running too fast, spinning out, thoughts tangling over themselves as I tried to banish the negative. But all I managed to do was break my brain.
I stared out the window, barely registering the scenery. The world blurred past in streaks of green and gray, trees and houses bleeding together. My reflection was faint in the glass, a ghost of myself staring back.
“You’ve been quiet,” Mom said, her voice cutting through my spiraling thoughts.
“I’m fine,” I replied, brushing off her concern. Today was about her. Not the mess I’d created. “I was just thinking if your boyfriend knows how to cook?” Asking her questions was the best way to distract us both.
She smiled, her eyes brightening. “Doubtful.”
The roads widened, trees growing thicker on either side, creating overhead canopies before the black wrought iron gates came into view. They had intricate scrollwork at the top that formed a W on either side. As Mom pulled up, the gates swung wide to welcome us inside.
My brows lifted slightly, surprise cutting through the numbness. “Okay…” I murmured, sitting up straighter in my seat. Her boyfriend wasn’t a total loser. Encouraging.
We rolled forward through the gates, and that’s when I saw it.
Willow trees.
Rows and rows of them lined the driveway, their long branches swaying in the evening breeze, creating this surreal, almost dreamlike tunnel.
The thin leaves cascaded down like curtains, dappling the pavement in swaying shadows as the driveway curved deeper into the property.
The trees were beautiful and slightly eerie, like driving through something out of a fairy tale.
“Holy shit,” I said, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
Mom smiled, a small curve of her lips that looked almost proud. “Pretty, right?”
Pretty wasn’t the word.
Didn’t come close.
It was…
Massive. And breathtaking. Something straight out of a magazine.
The estate stretched out on either side as we drove, perfectly manicured grounds rolling into the distance.
Emerald grass cut with geometric precision.
Gardens bursting with late-season blooms. Stone pathways winding up to the sleek house that was all glass, stone, and sharp architectural lines.
It should have felt cold, but it was softened just enough by the trees surrounding it.
“Are you sure this is the right house?” I muttered, gaping at the view.
Mom shot me a look, clearly amused by my reaction. “It’s a lot, I know.”
I rubbed my sweaty palms over my jeans. “You failed to mention this guy you are seeing is rich as fuck.”
“Did I?” She shrugged, turning into the circular drive. “I guess it didn’t really matter to me.”
“You’ve been here before?” It was hard to picture my mother hanging out inside this house, so different than the places we’d lived.
“Several times. His bedroom is very nice.”
I made a face, my nose wrinkling. “Gross. I don’t want the details. I hope you saw more than just his bedroom.”
She laughed under her breath as she cut the engine. “Nervous?” she asked, turning in her seat to look at me properly.
I hesitated, my teeth catching my bottom lip. “A little,” I admitted, the understatement of the century.
More than a little.
Way more.
My stomach was in knots.
I’d already made a clusterfuck of my life. I didn’t want to mess this up for her. “What if he doesn’t like me?” The fear slipped out before I could contain it, small and vulnerable in a way I hated.
Mom reached over, squeezing my hand. “Then he’s not worth my time. And he isn’t the man I think he is. We’re a package deal, Malibu. There is no me without you.”
I nodded, exhaling slowly. Something about this place intimidated me. This was new territory for both of us.
“Come on,” she said, opening her door. “Let’s go meet the first man I don’t want to kill.”
My lips pressed into a thin line. “Glad to see your humor is still intact.” I took a deep breath and followed her out of the car.
The front door was massive, made of dark wood and modern hardware, and flanked by high windows. It opened before we even reached it.
A tall man, at least six-two, maybe more, with broad shoulders filled the frame. His hair was dark, peppered with silver, making him appear distinguished. And he was good-looking, I’d give him that, for an old dude.
The autumn breeze picked up the scent of him, carrying it to me where I stood awkwardly on the porch. Expensive cigar smoke layered with woods, perhaps cedar and leather.
He smiled at my mom first, his light-green eyes twinkling. The color of them and the shape seemed eerily familiar, but I liked the way he looked at her, not creepy, which got him a point…if I was counting. “Mara,” he said, brushing his lips over her cheek.
“Hey,” she greeted, genuine happiness brightening the curl of her lips as she touched a light hand to his shoulder.
“Glad you made it.” His hand reached out to take hers before his attention shifted to me.
“The both of you,” he added, faint lines at the corners of his eyes softening, and again I was struck with this familiarity I couldn’t explain.
“You must be Mallory.” His voice was smooth and cultured.
He had this presence about him, exuding power.
He was definitely a businessman used to giving orders and expecting them to be obeyed without question. “I’m Donovan Corvo.”
My heart fucking stopped, the world tilting.
Did he say Corvo?
No. Absolutely no fucking way.
My brain scrambled, synapses firing too fast, trying to catch up, trying to rearrange reality into a reasonable explanation.
Actually, I didn’t want it to make sense because there was no way my mother’s boyfriend was related to Maddox.
Right?
There were probably loads of Corvos in Elmwood. Surely. It could be his uncle.
My mouth went dry, tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth like sandpaper.
This wasn’t just bad. This was a nightmare. This was universe-imploding, reality-shattering, how-is-this-my-life bad.
“Mallory?” Mom’s voice cut in gently beside me, her hand touching my elbow as concern threaded through the warmth. “Honey?”
I blinked, forcing my face to move and not look like I’d just had the ground open beneath my feet and swallow me into hell.
“Hi,” I managed, a strained smile on my lips.
“It’s nice to finally meet you.” Even as I forced the pleasantry, I was concocting a plan to get me out of here.
Fast. The best I could come up with on the fly was to fake being sick.
But before I started my pathetic charade of falling ill, a movement behind Donovan caught my focus. And I knew before seeing his face who it was.
Fuck. Me. Sideways.
My stomach plummeted at the sight of Maddox rounding the staircase.