Page 623 of Filthy Elites

I feel sick like I’m going to vomit everything I’ve ever eaten, and I’m going stir crazy in this house.

I’m not the kind of person who stays inside for too long, and I’ve never felt more suffocated than I have today.

I also barely slept last night, and every time I drifted off, I fell into a nightmare.

I get off the bed and gaze out the window at the darkness.

Night fell a little over an hour ago.

Air is what I need. Some cool, fresh air to take the heat off. There’s a little park near the river just across from the house. It’s in the woods and it looks a little creepy, but it’s safe.

Reaching for my jacket, I shrug into it and head out.

Milla, our head maid, comes out of the living room when I get downstairs. Concern washes over her face as she sees me. She was the only member of staff Mom kept after we left L.A. She’s been with us since I was ten. She was the extra pair of eyes after what happened to me.

“Sweetie, are you okay?” she asks.

“Yeah. I just need some air. I won’t stay out too long. I’m going to the park.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, I’m fine. You know how I hate being cooped up.”

She gives me a hearty laugh. “I do. I’ll make you some of my butterscotch pie for supper.”

“That sounds delicious. Thank you.” It’s my favorite thing, but I think tonight I might need a whole forest of pie to make me feel better.

I give her a quick hug and head out past the guards. We didn’t have guards when we lived in L.A. with Dad, so they make me feel uneasy. They’re Cal’s, and it goes without saying they’re here in case there’s the kind of trouble that could get a person killed.

“Just going to the park,” I tell the two at the gates, and they nod.

I slip out the side entrance, and when I’m on the pavement, I pick up speed enjoying the tiny taste of freedom.

It’s momentary bliss from my troubles, and while I’m out here, I don’t want to think. I did enough of that today, and if I do it anymore, my brain will explode.

The wind picks up and lifts the ends of my hair about my face. I pull my jacket closer feeling the warmth of the furry collar around my neck.

A message comes through on my phone, and I pull it out to see a text from Isabelle.

Clicking into it, I read what it says:

Hope you’re feeling better.I heard the hospital is opening its doors for volunteers in their research unit. Thought you’d be interested.

I smile at that,my first real smile of the day.

That is definitely something I’d be interested in.

I text back, telling her just that, and continue down to the river, where I sit on the grass by the bank.

“A bit late to be out here, isn’t it?” says a voice from the darkness. A voice I recognize.

Last night I didn’t have to hear his voice to feel the menace, yet I felt it.

I feel it now working its way across my throat like a noose around my neck.

I get up and turn to see Chad stepping out of the shadows. He has a hooded sweatshirt on with the hood up. When he comes closer, he pushes the hood back and smiles wide at me, just like last night.

“You bastard.”

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