Page 62 of The Breaking Point

“You need to leave,” I said, my tone harsh. “And don’t come at me with thatyou’re going to tell on me. Do it if you want. I’ve gotten in trouble before, and I can deal if it happens again.”

Grace was silent. “Why don’t you like me anymore?” Her voice was small now.

I hated myself at that moment. But even at sixteen, I knew that Grace wasn’t the girl for me.

“Nothing will ever happen between us,” I said. “So get over it already.”

Her shoulders sagged. I pulled at the thread she’d been playing with until it snapped.

“You’re a jerk.” Then she left—finally.

I locked my door a moment later. But I couldn’t get back into bed. Not when it reminded me that Grace had been sitting next to me only minutes before.

Grace was young for her age. She’d get over me eventually. She only had a crush on me because I was close by.

She probably thought I was some charity case she needed to make over. And who the fuck needed that? I didn’t need Grace. I didn’t need the Dallases, either.

I’d taken care of myself since I was a kid. I needed to remind myself that they could kick me out and hand me over to another family whenever they wanted. There was no guarantee I’d still be here when I turned eighteen.

The only person you can rely on is yourself.

GRACE

PRESENT DAY

I couldn’t stop thinking about the Scarlet Rope. More specifically, I couldn’t stop thinking about Brady enjoying himself there. Because that meant there was a part of him I didn’t know about, a part of him that I was now desperate to understand.

It was a Saturday evening, a week after the first time I’d gone to the club. My parents were at dinner tonight, so there wouldn’t be any awkward explanations if I left for a few hours.

And I really, really wanted to understand why Brady had decided to join the club. He’d said he wasn’t into BDSM like Mac was, but I’d seen Brady with a whip in his hand. Had he just not wanted to be honest with me? Was he embarrassed about this newfound fetish?

I didn’t let myself think too hard. I got in my car and drove over to the club, arriving a little after 6:00 p.m. I hoped that it was early enough that there wouldn’t be a lot of people inside yet.

I also hadn’t worn anything scandalous this round. Would they even let me inside, wearing just jeans and a boring black blouse?

The man at the door gave me a look that told me that I wasn’t in the right place at all. “A&B Marketing is on the second floor,” he said, turning away.

“I’m not here for a meeting,” I stammered. “Um, I have a password.”

The bouncer looked me up and down. “Well?”

“Pineapple.”

He just gave me an annoyed look. “Incorrect. Have a nice evening, ma’am.”

“No, no, wait!” I stopped myself from grabbing the guy’s arm. “I know Brady Carmichael. And Mac Mackenzie. The Blades hockey players.”

The man rolled his eyes. Seeing I was serious, he said, “Prove it.”

I fumbled for my phone, glad I’d taken a selfie with Brady a few weeks ago to send to Kelly. I showed it to the bouncer, then showed him a few of Brady’s texts to me. I also showed him that I knew the Blades coach, although I didn’t feel inclined to mention the coach was also my dad.

“Do you believe me now?” I asked, a little frustrated.

The bouncer gave me one last look and then let me inside. “Ask for Serena,” he said as I walked past him.

I let out the breath I’d been holding as I made my way to the club’s entrance. The bouncer must’ve messaged someone inside because before I knew it, I was being ushered into a back office and told that Serena would arrive shortly.

I had no idea who this Serena person was. Was she the owner? Or was she going to call the cops on me and have me thrown out?

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