Page 45 of Riot

“Do you feel better?” I ask, breaking the silence we’ve been sitting in, as comfortable as it was. I’m worried about how she’s feeling. She’s felt and gone through a lot today, and she looks exhausted.

“Yes and no.” She’s quiet for a moment. “He loved that car more than life. He bought it with his first big paycheck, and it was his prized possession. It was more than a car to him. It was a demonstration of what and who he was. He cared more about it than he ever did me. Hell, he would show it off and protect it from drunk partygoers, but not me. I was a nuisance, something he could utilize. I was a prop, not a daughter.” She laughs bitterly, taking another drink. “They all think they want the truth, but they don’t. They want the rock star story he presented. Nobody will admit to what he was really like because it means admitting what they were like too. They were no better. I have lived with what happened to me when he was gone and they were quiet, but they are back, needing money and fame and using my past, my trauma, to make it, and I’m fucking angry, so no, I’m not okay. I don’t think I will be until I destroy them.”

She looks at me. “How fucking dare they? How dare they think they can use and abuse me like they did back then, expecting my silence? Well, I’m not the same helpless little girl I was then, and they don’t get to come back and ruin my life again.” Tears fall from her eyes, and she wipes them away. “I won’t let them. I hated myself for letting it all unfold the way it did—never fighting back, never speaking out. Maybe this is a blessing in disguise. I’ll finally get to say my piece, and when I do, I’m going to watch them all burn. I want revenge, and I don’t think I’ll be okay again until I get it. I’m tired of being the good girl. I want to be messy. I want to fucking scream and misbehave. I want to act on every impulsive dark thought like everyone else does without worrying about my image. I want to be who I am on the inside without a man dictating what I should do. I’m so fucking tired of warring with myself just to be their perfect girl.” Her eyes meet mine once more. “So I’m done. She’s dead and buried like that car. From now on, this is me.”

Cupping her chin, I press my forehead to hers. “And you are fucking perfection like this. Be what you want to be, what you need to be. I’ll be behind you the entire way. If you want revenge, then let’s take it. Let’s watch them burn. I’ll hand you the fucking matches.”

She smiles, turning back to look at the car as silence fills the air once more, but it looks like a weight has lifted from her shoulders.

Leaning into me, she rests her head on my shoulder, and I can’t help but smile as I press mine to hers.

“Tomorrow will be better,” I murmur. “And the day after that, and the day after that. I’ll make sure you have an incredible life, Fallon. Your enemies are mine, and your problems are mine. We’ll do this together.”

TWENTY

The house is bigger than mine, and it screams old money. We were escorted in by a butler in a three-piece suit and directed to a sitting room with white couches perfectly placed before a coffee table displaying the latest fashion books. To the left of us is the fireplace with a painting, a portrait of the couple, hanging above it.

I’m surprised because when I knew her, she didn’t have money. She was working for it.

Kage and I realized we needed evidence because if they won’t stop the docuseries, I will expose the truth myself. To do that, I need more than my voice. No one would believe me without it, so I started writing a list of everyone who might be able to help me, and we began a search. She just happened to be the first person we found, though it wasn’t easy. Kage called in some favors, which I didn’t ask about since I’m thinking it wasn’t legal.

“Are you sure this is right?” I murmur as I cross my legs. I’m wearing a short bouclé skirt and matching jacket, and my sunglasses are pushed up to hold my hair back. Kage looks like a demon in his all-black ensemble and dark makeup, but shit, he looks fine.

“I’m sure. She changed her name and tried to erase her past, but it’s her,” he promises.

I nod, shifting nervously, wondering if she will remember me. I certainly remember her. She was always at those parties my father and his band held. As one of their favorite strippers, she saw more than most and worked with most of the men there for extra services. If anyone can shed light on what happened behind closed doors, it’s her.

The doors to the room open. We both stand as she sweeps in, smelling of Chanel and decked out head to toe, even for lounging at home.

She does a double take at Kage before her eyes land on me, and when all the color drains from her face, I know it’s her. She’s had work done. Her nose is different, as is her chin, and hell, her eyebrows have been lifted, but it’s her. She has the same blue eyes and blonde hair, although it’s in a bob now, and instead of a string bikini bottom, she wears a white power suit.

“Fallon?” she whispers before swallowing.

“Sit, please,” I reply. She looks between us again before heading to the sofa and sitting down gracefully, crossing her legs. No doubt she’s been trained in etiquette, but I remember her sprawled out on top of glass tables with lines on her chest. It’s strange.

“Why are you here?” she whispers. “How did you find me?” There’s panic in her eyes.

“You married a politician?” I ask incredulously.

“We met through my . . . old work and fell in love.” My eyebrows rise, and she purses her lips. “Believe it or not, you can’t help who you love. He helped me clean up my past, and we’ve had no issues until now. Please, Fallon, why are you here?”

“You know why I’m here.” I scoot forward as she recoils. Standing, I walk around and sit next to her as she looks at me. “You always knew this was coming and have been trying to run from it. I need your help.” I lay my hand on hers because she was a victim too. “It’s time to tell everyone what happened back then and make them pay.”

“Please, Fallon. I can’t lose my husband or this life. Don’t ask this of me. It would destroy us.” She snatches her hand back and stands, pacing away from me as I rise too. “I’m married now, Fallon. That girl back then? She’s dead. I was reborn. She’s dead, I’m not.”

“I can see that,” I snap, my anger taking hold now, although it isn’t her fault. “I don’t get to walk away from my past that easily. It eats me alive every single fucking day. I don’t get to kill who I was and be reborn. I have to live with it. Even my name still makes me theirs. Every single day, I look in the mirror and remember everything they did to me, everything they did to us. You might have been paid for it, but we both know you didn’t want it. I need you. I need everything you saw and experienced. Please, Sarah, surely you want them to pay for what they did.”

“You think I don’t want to?” she shouts, pushing her hair back. “You think I don’t struggle to sleep, remembering it all? Even when I hold my kids, I wonder if I will have to protect them from men like them. I go to parties with my husband and they are there, eyeing me, and I feel sick and dirty all over. No matter how much I change or how much money I have, I’m still a whore to them.” Tears spill from her eyes. “I can’t outrun my past, but I’m trying, so don’t ask me to do this. Don’t ask me to risk my family, my children for this. I lived through it. I won’t do it again. I can’t.” She sobs. “I can’t, Fallon, not even for you. I’m sorry if that makes me weak, but I just can’t.”

Stepping closer, I take her hand. “It’s okay. I’m sorry. I was being selfish. I get it. If I could run from this, I would.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” She smiles sadly. “You were always so strong, but look at you now. I might not be able to help you, but there are others who can.” She hurries away, scribbling something down and ripping off the paper before handing it to me.

I nod in thanks and step back. “I really am sorry, Sarah, for coming here. I didn’t think it through. I don’t want to take your life from you. You deserve to be happy and loved. I’m glad you found that. Not everyone has to live in the past, and I hope you know, whore or not, you’ve always been the woman before me.”

“Fallon—”

“Mom?” The door bursts open, and a girl and boy come in and run to her, wrapping their arms around her legs.

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