Page 107 of Faking It

“James—”

“Let me finish! You’re ready to throw this poor girl under the bus without missing a fucking beat. Did you ever stop to think about the story and whether it’s true? She’s been wrecked because of these lies, and you don’t give a shit.”

Aunt Cheryl lifts her chin. “I’m not going to stand here and take your disrespect. You’re an adult, well aware of the repercussions to walking away. Do whatever you see fit.”

It’s right there in her eyes. She’s calling my bluff. She thinks this is like the other times when Dad yanked on my leash, and I’d yield. Fear of losing made me comply in the past. Not anymore. Not now, when I’m holding the long end of the stick for once. Right now, Aunt Cheryl needs me more than I need her.

“All the best on your release, Aunty,” I reply. “You can tell your brother to do his worst. I’m ready.”

With that, I head out the door, each step feeling like I’m floating on air. I might be homeless after today, losing that precious mansion, but it’s material. Replaceable. I wish it hadn’t taken so long, so many battles, losing a part of myself for that to sink in. Mom will understand, especially when she learns I’ve finally stood up to my dad.

Yeah, let him do his worst because I’m about to do mine.

As the elevator doors close in front of me, I pull out my phone and dial a number. A cool, deep voice answers at once. “Sir.”

“Do it, River. Do it now.”

I don’t know where Ana and I stand romantically. After that fight in our trailer, knowing she distrusts me so easily, seeing that cold, closed off demeanor even after my pleas for her to believe me, I doubt we can be anything more than friends. Still, that won’t stop me from avenging her. I missed out on protecting her this time, but I’m going to make them pay for ruining her like this.

Chapter 39

Ana

“Ana, talk to me, please,” Tori calls from behind the door.

Sitting on the floor of her guest bedroom, my chin resting on my knees, darkness swirling around me, I bite back another sob. I’m sick of crying. It’s been two days since the news broke out, and I doubt there are any tears left in me.

“Ana, please!”

“Go away, Tori,” I croak.

It’s her house, and I’m still waiting on that lease for my new apartment, but I don’t care. She’d been true to her word, collaborating with Micah to do a sit-down interview with me, which they posted on ANON’s social media page. Even though it’s gone viral, and scores of people have taken my side after hearing my version of the story, I still can’t get over what she’d done to me.

I need her far away from me as possible.

Tori raps on the door. “I just want to explain, that’s all. Hear me out.”

My best friend, my only friend is ANON. I still can’t fucking believe it.

Straightening my legs, I lean against the bed, staring at the thin streak of light coming from under the door. It shifts as she adjusts herself, no doubt getting muscle cramps from kneeling there for the last hour.

I swallow, the lump scraping my dry throat. Dehydration is settling in. Even my lips are parched. My stubbornness won’t make me leave this room, though. I don’t want to face Tori right now. Not after the fake cheating scandal that almost made me lose that job. Not after knowing she had a hand in ruining me and Gideon. Especially not after the heartbreaking phone call she’d gotten an hour ago.

“If you won’t talk, then listen,” she calls out. “I’m not trying to make excuses for what I did, but I need you to understand.”

My eyes softly close on a gentle sigh. I pull my legs back up.

“I felt bad when you aced our acting classes, and I didn’t. It made me feel like I wasn’t good enough. After auditioning for those roles and not getting any, I gave up. That’s when I decided to be your agent instead, remember?”

Yeah, I remember. She seemed so at peace with that decision, and I sensed no malice behind it. Turns out, she’s a better actress than she thinks.

“I went to work, pushing hard to get those gigs for you, trying my best to find new clients. Truth is, no one wanted to take a chance on me, not when my only client is a supporting cast on a TV show. No offence.”

Too shocked to even take offense and forgetting that I’m not even talking to her, I blurt, “What do you mean? Was I your only client?”

“Yes.”

“But…how?” I glance around the dark room, and though I can’t see anything, I picture the lavish furniture in the room. The entire apartment, in fact. “I barely made enough for you to pay the bills. How did you afford all this?”

---