Page 71 of The Favorite Girl

Pressing the knife even deeper into her palm, her eyes shot to mine as a smile stretched across her face. “He left me behind. He didn’t choose me to be his…” she trailed with her eyes closing and tears running down her cheeks.

“His what?” I whispered as my eyes flicked between the dripping blood and the completely deranged expression across of her pale face.

“His favorite girl.”

“I don’t… I don’t understand?” I shook my head slowly.

“He chose you. But so did Conrad… so they sent Bradley away.” My heart tightened as Becca grew closer to me. Taking a few steps back, I stumbled into the wall.

“What makes you so special, Demi?” She angled her head slightly, tugging the blade from her palm, tapping it against her hand. “You’re not nearly as beautiful as me.” She eyed my mid-section. “You’re… kind of unpleasant, really. Muddy skin, frizzy hair and perhaps even a bit thinner than acceptable.”

Hugging myself, I took a deep breath as she caged me in against the wall. Pressing the knife against my throat, her cold air blew against my face.

Sucking in, I tried to push my head away without making a difference. “You’re actually fucking ugly, Demi.” She pushed the blade further into my flesh. Closing my eyes, I thought about how I was actually sad to die.

I didn’t think I’d be sad, considering I was living a life that didn’t feel like living at all. But no, suddenly, I realized I had held on to some sliver of hope, praying I’d get another chance at life. I think that reason was also because of Bradley. Meeting him and for the first time, feeling something for someone on a deeper level.

“It’s quite funny, you were never Conrad’s first choice. You were the substitute. But your promiscuous sister couldn’t keep her legs closed, and well, she was no longer pure for the Ivory family.” Becca clicked her tongue.

My body went cold. My eyes blurred and everything Becca said no longer sounded like a language I understood.

“My… sister? No, you don’t know what you’re talking about. Layla had no idea who this family was. She… she was raped by Trent.”

“Did you actually see her being raped? Or is that what she told you?” Becca pursed her thin lips at me.

Blinking rapidly, I thought about how I hadn’t seen Layla being raped; I’d just hear them. Hear them… having sex? But she’d always come back into the closet with me. She’d always look repulsed and heartbroken.

“She fell in love with Trent, and he loved her, but business is business. When he found out Ian Ivory was no longer buying Layla for the two million dollars he had promised him, he couldn’t handle it. Layla was supposed to be his largest transaction and his way out of the Nashville slums. He couldn’t believe having sex with her had wrecked him. So… he set it all up, and he put Layla up to it as well. He said if she helped him get you to go to the Ivory’s house, he’d marry her.” Becca paused. Leaning in, she brushed my hair from my face with her blood-stained palm. “It must really hurt to know your sister didn’t want you, either.” She frowned at me with insincere sadness.

“We were sold by our parents to Trent. Layla… she didn’t love him. You have no idea what you’re talking about,” I hissed. There was no way my sister, the only human in this world who had ever loved me, wanted me, protected me, would intentionally put me in the path of harm.

But in the back of my mind, I questioned why she urged me to go to Charlotte. How everything aligned so effortlessly, so coincidentally.

“Yeah, and then you both were put in The Virgin Bride Catalogue.” She squinted her eyes at me as if she were stunned I had no idea what this meant. “Oh, you poor, silly girl. You have no idea about anything, truly.”

My brows furrowed as I looked into her red-tinged eyes. “The virgin bride catalogue?” I breathed out as Becca left only the smallest sliver of space between our faces. Putting more pressure against the knife against my neck, I flinched when she let out a small laugh.

“You’re going to have such a beautiful life carrying an Ivory child, and the most amazing family’s legacy.” A tear escaped from Becca’s eye. In one swift motion, she jerked the knife away from my neck and slashed her own.

Letting out a shriek, I grabbed her hand but was too late. She didn’t think twice; she didn’t make a sound. Blood sputtered out of her neck as she dropped to her knees and fell into my legs. Parting my lips, I could taste the splashes of her blood all over my mouth and face.

“Becca!” I cried out. I looked around wildly, grabbing Bradley’s scarf from a hook on the wall, and frantically held it against her neck as she laid, face-down, in a growing pool of blood.

“Becca! Help! Someone!” I looked up at the ceiling and quickly remembered that Bradley said his room didn’t have cameras. Running to the door, I slammed my bloodied fists while shouting for help at top of my lungs. Sliding my fingers across the panel, I couldn’t get it to open. Red streaks were painted all over the smooth white as I sobbed harder.

“Please…” My voice was hoarse as I collapsed to the floor and looked at Becca. I knew she was dead. She had slit her throat completely. The puddle around her had now grown so large, it was hitting both sides of the walls.

Gagging, I clutched my knees and tugged them in, praying I could focus on my breathing or anything at all. Memories of my sister flashed in my mind. I was exhausted. And then suddenly, the light cut off, and I was all alone in the dark.

But I wasn’t alone, was I?

Becca was right here with me, bleeding out. More than fearing the unknown in the darkness is that sometimes, what we already know is there is more terrifying than any place our imagination could ever take us.

CHAPTER

FORTY-TWO

“Good morning, beautiful!” I clenched my eyes before slowly opening them. How had I fallen asleep? Looking around, my vision was slightly hazy from the stickiness crusting my eyes.

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