Page 662 of Filthy Elites

“Billie, you have to believe me. I didn’t do this. I would never hurt you this way.” His eyes plead with me to believe him, but I can’t.

I don’t know what to think. My mind is a minefield waiting to detonate and I feel so foolish for giving him my heart.

“You are despicable.” I shake my head at him. “On my first day of school, we stood right here, and you told me to leave. You said if I saw you again, you’d make me wish I’d never been born. Congratulations, you won, Chad. Now people know I sold myself to you.”

“Billie—”

“Fuck you. I don’t want anything from you. So, keep your fucking money.”

He tries to reach for me again, but I swat his hands away and run.

Run past the audience who’ve gathered to watch, then to my car.

Tears blind me as I drive out of the school, not knowing what the hell I’m going to do. Everything has gone to hell.

The school knows I’m a whore, Chad knows I’m a whore, and I have no way of getting to L.A.

Oh, God.

I cry harder, so hard it hurts. My heart hurts more than my dignity, and I feel even worse for it.

I’m supposed to be more sensible than this. I’ve been through enough life shit to exercise more care when it came to trusting people, yet I trusted him.

I gave him my body, my mind, my soul.My secrets.

Of anyone I shouldn’t have trusted, it was him. Him all along.

Home is the last place I want to be, but I find myself there. When I park up on the drive, I jump out of the car and don’t even bother to close the door.

I rush inside the house, where I see Cal in the hallway. He’s on the phone and looks like he’s in the middle of a serious conversation. He’s also dressed in his suit, clearly ready to go to work.

However, the instant he sees the wreck I am, he hangs up the phone and comes closer to me.

I should run the other way and head up the stairs to my room. He’s not my father so I shouldn’t seek any comfort from him.

“Sweetheart, what happened to you?”

His words cut into the delusion I’ve filled my mind with for the last few months, and I rush into his arms.

He holds me, and at that moment, it doesn’t matter that he’s not my father because he’s always taken care of me the way a father would.

He’s doing it again as I break down against his chest.

TWENTY

Billie

When I stop crying,Cal takes me to my room, but I can’t tell him what happened. I could never tell him. I don’t even know what words I’d use.

I crawl into bed, and he covers me with a blanket, then plants a kiss on top of my head.

“I’ll be back to check on you,” he mutters, tapping the top of my wrist.

I nod, and he leaves; then, I close my eyes and fight the images that haunt me out of my mind.

I fall asleep somehow, and it’s only when I open my eyes that I realize I was sleeping.

It’s night now. I’ve been asleep all day, and I’m almost sure Cal must know what happened to me by now. The first thing he would have done was call the school.

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