Page 107 of The Lair

I hate my father. I hate how he never confronted my mother when she mistreated me, how he never went out of his way to comfort me, how he saw my breakdowns as an inconvenience instead of what they really were—a desperate cry for help.

I hate my mother. I hate how she sacrificed my safety, well-being, and health for money and influence, how she never put her children first, how she’s still blind to the pain she’s caused me.

I don’t hate Johnny and Cindy, but I also can’t hold back because of them.

I need to stop this.

I promised.

It’s too late for me, but it may not be for others.

My fingers continue to shake as I pick up Tom’s card again. They still shake as I grab my laptop and get on the bed.

It feels like the hotel room is spinning when I log into my email account and type in his address, so much so that I have to shut my eyes for a moment and take a deep breath.

Don’t do it. Your parents will ruin your life.

A beat passes.

The world shifts and clicks into place.

They already have.

Chapter Thirty-Four

It’s funny,I ponder as my driver speeds past a yellow light in downtown Los Angeles, how the more you insist you will never do something, the harder life comes back to bite you in the ass.

Six years ago, I promised myself I wouldn’t come back to the city where so much was taken from me. I can only guess the universe is now laughing at the way I’m eating my words.

The navigation system shows we’re ten minutes away when the sound of my phone makes me jump.

“Hi.” My throat is dry when I speak.

“Hey, Allie.” There’s a mixture of softness and urgency in Tom’s voice. “Are you in the car already? I checked online, and your plane landed fifty minutes ago.”

I clear my voice. “Yeah, I’m in the car. We’re almost there.”

“Good, good.” He pauses, and I hear voices and commotion behind him. “How are you feeling?”

I’m surprised he’s asking. Hollywood isn’t exactly known to care about nobodies, but then again, maybe I’m being unfair. When he emailed me back yesterday, he did it with a contract, a one-way plane ticket, and a promise to make me feel as comfortable as possible through this whole thing. He also wrote that I was really brave for speaking out, and that theyappreciated it more than I could ever know. He sounded genuine when I spoke to him on the phone this morning, too, before boarding the flight.

“Nervous,” I tell him honestly.

Before my flight, I gave in and checked my phone. I have several missed calls from Jada, as well as texts from her that I couldn’t bring myself to open. I need to do this on my own. I can’t keep using her as a crutch, even though I love her more than anything. I need to stay in my own bubble right now; a bubble that is fragile enough to be burst by the smallest of doubts. Shutting everything and everyone out is the only way to do this.

I also saw texts from Charlie, Jude, and Sandra. I didn’t open them either.

Nothing from Travis.

A sharp, piercing feeling stabs through my chest.Don’t think about him.

“George will tell you when you get here, but I want to remind you again,” Tom starts, pulling me out of my thoughts. “You can speak as much or as little as you want. We won’t pressure you. The fact that you’ll be speaking out at all is a big deal in itself.”

“I appreciate that,” I mutter.

“I have to hang up, but we’ll talk shortly. Thanks again for agreeing to this, Allie.”

The reminder of what I’m about to do bulldozes right through me. Last night, I didn’t sleep a wink. I couldn’t, not when I knew what would happen today. And so I did something I was sure I’d come regret—I searched my name online.

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