Page 73 of SNOB

Of course. Now I’m pissed I wasn’t able to get there on my own. I grab the phone before he can see who it belongs to. My grip is tight as I tap on the photos and videos. It takes swiping through countless videos from Fashion Week before I see her.

She laughs in the backseat of his Rover, drinking something out of his flask. They seem close. Chummy. Like she wants to be there. Not by force.

“Beau?” Harry’s voice comes from behind me. I was so eager to get into this, I forgot he was here. “And the new girl? They were friends? Do you think she has something to do with it?”

“Get out.”

“But I’m working on my assignment.”

I spin towards him, my jaw tight. “Get. Out.”

Harry grabs his backpack before he rushes out the door, leaving me with the video.

My grip tightens when I hear her voice. “Fuck Malcolm McKinsley, that insecure asshole.” She looks at the camera with glossy eyes and red cheeks. “I want his head. On a platter. On a stick. Buried six feet deep.” Beau’s laughter makes me happy he’s dead, Ember’s words loud in my head. “He’s a predator I wish would go extinct. And I’ll be the one to do it.”

Pausing the video, my hand tightens around the phone so hard I wonder if it’ll break.

Calm down. This was old. Before last night. Before everything.

I hear the rational voice in my head. But it’s not winning. It never does. And now? Now I have more to deal with.

TWENTY-TWO

EMBER

You did so good, Butterfly.

Such a good fucking girl.

His words play in my head as my brush flows across my canvas with ease. There’s no hesitation in my work today. No pauses. No second guessing. But while my brush stays on my canvas, my mind is elsewhere.

That really happened. I really let Malcolm McKinsley hit it.

My mind swings back to that night. In the helicopter. In his bed. I’ve never felt something so consuming. So dominating. So possessive.

Lethal.

It’s hard to ignore the way our bodies melt into each other, or how his aggressive approach matches my need to lose control. Our tortured insides come out in the worst way when we’re together.

Bitter bliss.

The way our pain leads to pleasure is stupefying. Shattering. Mind-blowing. The way he governs my body is something I’ve never felt before. In those moments, I don’t think. I don’t worry about Uncle Jake, Hannah, or Beau… and hell. Beau was right. The thing is, I don’t just like it. I crave it.

That’s not the only thing driving me.

I don’t fuck over my teammates.

Being Mac’s teammate means fifteen thousand dollars. I’m getting fifteen thousand dollars from the next few drawings I make.

Fifteen thousand!

It’s not much for these rich folks but for Uncle Jake and I, it’s life-changing.

A stupid smile sticks to my face as I pack up my supplies at the end of class. My mind explodes with hope for the future. I can be the next Riviera. The next Frida! I’m about to be a big deal.

Does my mom know that?

I haven’t figured out how to reach out to her. I thought about telling Uncle Jake but I’m afraid he’ll stop me. She has my work which is a good start. And with Mac’s connections, it should be easy to find my way back to her.

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