Page 89 of SNOB

“It’s—”

“Ember Everett, I can ruin you in ways my son hasn’t.” His face hovers in front of mine. As stoic as both McKinsley men are, he doesn’t have a resemblance to Mac beyond the suits and coldness. He reaches forward and I flinch before he flicks a finger against my nose. “I promise.” He turns around, moving to the iron table before picking up the paper Mac signed. Then he looks over his shoulder. “I advise you to get out of Paradise Hill as soon as you can, little girl. Or should I say, little whore?”

Rrrriiip!

Sterling rips the paper in two.

“Father!” Mac calls again, a croak in it.

“Now, Sterling, why would you do that?” Clara asks, her voice filled with exhaustion.

“My son isn’t going anywhere,” Sterling responds. “He has a business to run.” Then he turns to me, his voice getting louder. “Why are you still here? If you think you can fuck your way into this world, you are very mistaken. And if you think I won’t end your sad little life, well, you clearly haven’t learned much being here.” He yells towards the mansion behind him. “Get the police. We have a murderer in our midst.”

My head whips to Mac, that word lingering in the air but he doesn’t say a thing. Turning to my mom, my heart pounds as I make my final plea, the smell of burnt paper filling the air. “You’re going to let him do this to me?” It’s hard to stop that tear from rolling down my face before I wipe it away with a knuckle of a clenched fist.

Cara shrugs. “This is all too much drama for me.” She picks up her designer bag from another iron chair. “I need another cocktail. Good luck to all of you.” She pushes past me on her way out of the room, leaving nothing but a clenched chest and citrus perfume.

Sirens wail in the distance as the space around me tilts.

“Ember,” Mac says, his voice calm, stoic. “Run.”

We have a murderer in our midst.

If you think you can fuck your way into this world, you’re very mistaken.

Get out of Paradise Hill as soon as you can.

My arms cross against my body, my hands on each of my arms as cars whip past me. Walking back to The Valley is long and gruelling, but the words in my head distract me.

I’m just another girl from those movies: too hopped up on good sex and a hot guy to think straight. I ignored all the warnings.

For nothing.

Approaching the broken door of our mobile home, it’s time I confide in Uncle Jake. Chances are, he won’t even hear me. He’s already given up on life and fuck, at this point, I don’t blame him.

“Uncle Jay?” The door creaks open as I drag my exhausted body back into my old life, fully accepting it this time. I can’t go back there, they’ve all made it clear. That was all a pipe dream. A fairytale.

This is where I belong.

Hockey plays in the background, comforting me as that damp, earthy smell surrounds me.

“Uncle Jay?” I call. “I’m home.” For good. “Uncle Jay?” I call again, not hearing the drunken excitement I expected. “Are you home?”

More beer cans and bottles litter our home with a few expensive whiskey bottles between. Moving to where he usually sits, my body stills.

My throat closes as a lightning bolt strikes my chest when I see what lies in the middle of our living room floor.

“Un-Uncle Jay?” I’m scared to check, his body sprawled out on the ground with a bottle in his hand. His white t-shirt stained with brown spots sits above his stomach, the belt on his worn jeans unbuckled.

No.

No, no, no!

“Uncle Jake?” Rushing to him, I fall to my knees, tapping his cheek. “Uncle Jay!” A slap to his face doesn’t wake him up before I shake him again. “Please… please…”

He doesn’t respond, my chest caving in as my head comes to his chest.

“Uncle Jay?”

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