Page 47 of The Version You Hide

I glance across the yard, noticing that there are now several sets of prying eyes trained in my direction. I stiffen, suddenly wishing I were invisible. I need to get away from these people and their potent stares.

Pressing my hands against the crisp, white tablecloth, I rise to my feet. “Well, it was great meeting you, but I need to use the restroom.”

“See you later, Mackenzie,” Skye says, her tone not unkind.

Madison scowls at her, then raises her piercing emerald glare to mine, a fake smile plastered over her perfectly made-up face. “Bye. Oh, and nice dress, by the way.”

I look down at the floral sundress I’m wearing, and I’m taken back to the moment I stepped out onto my front porch tonight.

“Is that what you’re wearing?” Dylan had asked. “It’s perfect.”

Was it perfect? Or was it the perfect way to embarrass his parents at their big anniversary party?

Was he hoping for me to look out of place here?

I think about the way he’d held the small of my back as he’d ushered me through the crowd tonight.

Had I mistaken possession for protection?

I don’t want to believe that Dylan is here to make some

kind of statement tonight, but this war against his father is obviously bigger than I’d thought, and he must be using me as leverage. It’s the only thing that makes sense to me now.

I storm back inside the house and take the hallway on my right. I enter the first door that I see and slam it behind me. It’s pitch-black inside. I whip my phone out and turn on the flashlight function, using it to investigate my surroundings.

Damnit. I’m in some sort of linen closet, albeit a large one. I don’t bother trying to find a light switch. Instead, I pull up the internet browser on my phone and type Dylan Abbott into the search bar. My heart sinks when his photo appears on the screen above a formal caption printed below it.

Dylan Ivan Abbott, born 24th August, 1999. Australian business magnate and son of hotelier, Ivan Abbott, founder of the Abbott Group. The Abbott Group owns and operates multiple brands in many segments of hospitality including The Abbott, Gateway, and Boxborough hotel chains.

Holy shit. The guy has his own Google profile.

What the actual fuck?

I don’t even know what to think. All I know is that I need to get far away from here. Now.

As I pry open the closet door, stepping out as discretely as I can, I scan the room for the nearest exit. I see Dylan standing off to the side of the large open plan living and dining area. He seems to be engaging in some sort of heated discussion with his father.

His nostrils flare as he places the glass of Coke he’s still clutching onto the granite tabletop in front. I can’t interpret the expression he wears, though the way his jaw hardens as he adjusts the collar of his shirt lets me know he isn’t happy.

I’d thought that shirt had looked expensive, but it strikes me now that it probably cost more than my entire wardrobe and Kristen’s combined.

Whatever his father is saying to him has him tense, but I don’t care all that much anymore. Dylan lied to me.

He catches sight of me as I move forward, but when our eyes meet, I can only shake my head in disappointment. The tension in his stare immediately evaporates into hurt.

“Kenz!” I hear him call.

I don’t turn around, instead pushing directly through the middle of a group of people until I’ve reached the front door. I barge through it and take the steps two at a time, my hand skimming the white, metal railing as I go. I’ve barely reached the bottom of the stairs when a warm hand wraps gently around my wrist. I spin around, only to find myself flush up against Dylan’s chest.

“Leave me alone, Dylan,” I shout angrily as I shake off his grip.

“What happened?” He looks genuinely confused. He’s a great actor.

“Who are you?” I whisper, my eyes searching his for answers he probably isn’t going to give me. “I mean, really? Who are you?”

He lets out a shaky breath, his guilty stare dropping to the ground. At least he has the decency to look ashamed.

“You completely blindsided me!” I continue. “You brought me here under false pretences.”

---