Page 95 of Teach Me to Fly

It’s obvious that they’re tag-teaming, not that I don’t appreciate it, but it’s exhausting having people watch me like I’m fragile. Like they’re just waiting for me to shatter. And sure, maybe I am on the verge of breaking apart completely, but I don’t need them constantly reminding me about it.

I curl up on the couch, wrapping my blanket around myself like a cocoon, ignoring the fact that I’m wearing the same oversized sweatshirt and shorts I slept in for the last two nights. The news flickers across the screen, but I barely pay attention.

Out back, I hear Lando’s voice as he paces near the French doors, his phone to his ear, laughing softly.

“If you want me to come down there and show you how good Ican?—”

He stops speaking and then laughs again shortly after, low and warm. “You’d better clear your schedule for the entire weekend then, babe.”

I blink.

I shouldn’t be listening to this.

I pull the blanket tighter and sink into the couch cushions, letting the muffle of the TV drown him out, but when my phone vibrates, I sit up and glance at the coffee table. My screen lights up with a name I haven’t seen since the day she sat across from me in her office at Big Apple—Mom.

For a moment, I just sit there and stare at the call, my skin turning icy cold. I should ignore it, and block the number, but my thumb betrays me, sliding across the screen to answer.

I lift the phone to my ear. “…Hello?”

“Well, are you happy now?” Her voice is clipped, the tone of someone who is clearly pissed off with me.

“What?”

“You got what you wanted, didn’t you?” she snaps. “Alec’s a goddamn cripple now. Can’t even stand without help. He’ll be lucky to walk in a straight line again, but he’ll never be able to dance.”

My heart lurches as my throat tightens. “What are you talking about?”

She lets out a bitter laugh. “Oh, don’t play dumb, Angelique. You know damn well what your little boyfriend did. He shattered both his kneecaps and left him in a fucking puddle of blood outside a police station,” she shouts. “His parents were my biggest donors. You just cost me my job.”

The breath leaves my lungs like a sucker punch. “He—Reign did that for me?” I whisper, barely able to form the words.

“God, you’re pathetic.” Her voice curdles with disgust. “You act like you’re this poor little victim, but all you do is leave ruin in your wake. You always have.”

My voice shakes. “What are you even talking about? Alecrapedme. I did nothing wrong.”

“Well, now he’s broken, and so is your future if you keep pushing this lawsuit nonsense. Alec told me you’re considering it, so let me give you some free advice, darling—don’t.”

My mouth opens, but no words come out. Reign has been talking to me about pressing charges for the rape, now that I have video evidence of Alec admitting to it, but we both know it will be a long process to go through, and with Alec’s parents’ money it might not even work out the way we hope.

“Go ahead. Embarrass yourself in court,” she continues. “Drag Reign down with you, too. Do you really think his father’s just going to stand by? You think Charlie Harrington is going to let his golden son date a trauma case who invites scandal into his company?”

Tears prick the backs of my eyes as I stay quiet, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of knowing her words are getting to me.

“Don’t be stupid, Angelique,” she finishes. “Alec will go after Reign for what he did to him if you so much as think about going ahead with this legal battle. Back off, or you’ll both lose everything.”

The line goes dead, and I sit there, frozen. I can’t hear anything except the ringing in my ears and the echo of her voice hacking through my chest like a dull blade.

Reign did that for me. He beat Alec so bad he may neverwalk again, and now my mother’s threatening his future. All because of me. My hand falls into my lap, the phone slipping from my fingers and hitting the carpet with a dull thud.

My choices are simple. Let Alec get away with raping me and protect Reign or go after Alec and bring Reign down with me. Either way, I lose. I stare at the wall for another minute or two as I feel like I’m slowly sinking into something cold and empty until something in me snaps.

I need out of this fucking war I never asked to fight.

I push up from the couch, moving through the room on autopilot. My limbs feel heavy, but I force them forward, quietly looking over my shoulder to the French doors where Lando is still outside, laughing under his breath as he paces the patio with his phone pressed to his ear.

“If you think your choreography’s hot now, wait ‘til you see what I do with it naked,” he murmurs.

He doesn’t notice me as I head straight for my bedroom and close the door behind me. I rip off my shirt, fingers trembling, and scan the room for anything sharp, anything at all, but Reign’s already cleared every drawer and every shelf.

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