Page 4 of Wicked Scandal

I raise my head slightly off the floor, knowing if I make quick movements, he’ll be triggered. Troy doesn’t like when he doesn’t have all my attention when he’s giving me his.

“Honey.” He places his hand on my sticky, wet cheek as I lick the sweet tea from my lips. “I’m so sorry.”

Here we go. Use. Abuse. Gaslight. Now the apologies.

As if he could erase everything he did with those words. Words he doesn’t mean.

I’m all too familiar with how Troy behaves. For the longest time, I fell into the trap. Troy made me believe I deserved his brutality. I was putty in his hand. He played with me—molded me. It wasn’t until a couple years ago that I realized this isn’t love. It never was, and it never will be.

Troy grabs my head and cradles it against his chest. His fingers stroke through my matted, damp hair. “I didn’t mean it, honey. I had a hard day at work today.”

“I’m sorry you had a bad day.” The lie slips off my tongue like sweet honey. It’s best this way. Honesty might actually kill me.

“I know you are, Catherine. And that’s why I know tomorrow, you’ll do as I’ve asked. This is important to me, therefore it should be important to you, too.”

He lets go of my head and I raise it off his chest, feeling so disgusted with myself for even sitting here on this floor with sweet tea stained on my skin and his slimy hands holding me. “Okay.” I nod slowly. “I’ll get a substitute tomorrow.”

A smile spreads across his wicked face. “I’m the luckiest man alive, Catherine. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I didn’t mean what I said earlier.” His fingers stroke my cheek tenderly. “I’ll always protect your secret because I love you. And I know how grateful you are that I saved you from a life of misery all those years ago.”

He looks at me, awaiting praise for his good deed. “I am.” I gulp. “So grateful. Thank you for…thank you for saving me.”

“That’s my good wife.” He pats my head like I’m a fucking lap dog. “Why don’t you mop these floors and meet me in the shower. I could use a nice release after the stress you bestowed on me tonight.”

Of course it’s my fault. It always is. And now I have no choice but to go pretend to enjoy having sex with this bastard.

Troy kisses the top of my head as he stands. Once he’s on his feet, he pulls open the drawer above my head and tosses another towel at me. “Don’t take too long. You know I don’t enjoy waiting.”

The second he’s gone, I curse under my breath. “One day you will pay, Troy Jenkins. If it’s the last thing I do, you will pay.”

CHAPTER 1

WILDER

May 8, 2024

Present Day

“It’s with extreme pleasure and elation that I announce my candidacy as mayor of Willow Creek.” Dad takes a step back from the podium, basking in the excitement coming from the residents gathered beneath the stage. I watch from the side with my family as he begins to read the speech I helped him write.

When he announces the big changes he wants to make, I clap my hands, along with my siblings, though my thoughts are anywhere but here.

“Not only do I have the support of my loving wife, but also the support of my sons, Wilder, Rome, Callan, and Sayer. As well as my stepdaughters, Elodie, Brogan, and Lake. With them, and all of you by my side, we can do this.” His voice booms as he shouts, bringing the crowd to life. “Let’s make Willow Creek the best damn town around.”

The cluster of residents burst into a frenzy of cheers and chants. Celia, my stepmom, pats my dad on the back. Her support and love for my dad’s endeavor doesn’t go unnoticed.

With my hand in my pocket, I pull my phone out slightly with my SnapTok account on display. I look at the comments of a video I posted this morning, a grin tugging at my mouth. It was a silly video—just me mouthing the words to a viral sound about living with your parents. The comments are unreal, though. Two hundred of them so far. But one in particular stands out to me.

Lifting my eyes to my dad as he continues speaking, I nod subtly as if I’m agreeing with everything he says, when in reality, I’m not even paying attention.

The hot spring sun is beating down on me while sweat dribbles down my back beneath my long-sleeved white button-up shirt. We’ve been standing here for twenty minutes, doing absolutely nothing while my dad talks. I know I shouldn’t be reading my comments right now, but this speech is boring as fuck. Not to mention, I have read and heard it at least fifty times by now.

Staring at the three dotted hearts in the comment of the girl whose profile caught my eye, I find myself smiling.

I don’t know who she is, other than her profile name is CatEyes. After chatting with her a bit, I found out she lives in Willow Creek, and she doesn’t make her own content. Her profile picture is an image of a black dragonfly tattoo with the words “still I rise.” I’m not sure if it’s hers, or if it’s just a picture, but it’s catchy.

She’s been persistent on keeping her identity a secret, so I’ve respected her privacy. But I’ve really enjoyed our conversations. She seems very mature and a bit mysterious, which I dig.

Rome, my twin my brother, nudges me. “Put your phone away,” he grits out, as if he has any sort of authority over me.

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