Page 101 of The Depraved Prince
“The night you came back home…” he sing-songs like he has no idea why I could be upset by this. I’m questioning him like it’s a horrible thing because I know who gave us that money.
Hayden. It had to be him.
“Return it!” I stalk off toward my bedroom. My footsteps thud against the tile, and I’m seconds away from pushing open my bedroom door and looking for my own car keys so I can go to Leah’s house.
“Umm, no? Millie, what’s wrong with you?” he roars after me, but I can’t face him because if I do, I may word vomit out of emotion, and I need to control myself. I tense up as Nash grabs my hand and pulls me back a little into the hallway before I can escape into my bedroom. Cooper stands on his two back legs and whines. He barks at the both of us like he’s trying to tell us to stop arguing.
“Talk to me, dammit! It’s been weeks since you’ve been home. You know something. You know who did this to Dad, and it’s like you’re protecting them! Is that why you don’t want tosay anything?” He accuses me. His forehead vein bulges, and my protective, authoritative big brother is back. The one that isn’t scared to hurt my feelings or crush my boundaries.
“Back off, Nash!” I pull my hand away, and he lets me go.
“No! He’s my father! We need justice!”
I want to scream at him. I want to tell him everything, but I must protect Nash from what I’ve seen and know. If that makes me a villain in his eyes…to save his life, then I’ll be that.
“Please…leave it alone,” I beg with tears clinging to my eyes.
He grinds his jaw and breathes heavily through his nose. His white shirt moves up and down as he tries to calm himself down. We stare at each other in the hallway. I have no words but beleaguered emotions that speak a thousand words when I don’t have to.
He takes a deep breath, nods apologetically, and leaves the house. Great. This will be the last time I see Nash, and it had to be an argument. I get lost in my thoughts once again. I’ve come to terms with my father’s death. It hurts. Our plans are dead alongside him. I feel partially responsible, but I try to push that out of my head. I know it was out of my control, but I can’t help but feel like everything is my fault. I didn’t ask for any of this to happen. I’m focusing on readjusting my future one day at a time.
I shake my head, passing by my dad’s redwood wallpaper; I grab my keys and head to my car with one destination in mind.
I haven’t told Leah anything. I didn’t tell her I was showing up tonight, either. I’ve been so lost in my head that I forget where I am sometimes. Thankfully, I remember how to get to her house by memory and our countless hangouts before Hayden took me.
She still lives about ten minutes away from my house, in a neighborhood that’s right by the mall. I park my car two houses down because it seems that Leah’s neighbor is having a party and leaving nowhere to park in front. As I walk down the street,I can smell good old Texas BBQ and brisket being cooked in the distance, and it makes my mouth water. Country music plays, and I know it’s George Strait.
I get closer to Leah’s front door, walking across the front lawn to get there. I pass her bedroom window, and I get the same temptation to scare her by tapping on her window like I always do when I come over.
Grinning mischievously, I feel like my old self again—at least for a split second—because when I walk up to her window, her curtains are open, like she always loves to keep them. My playful demeanor vanishes when I’m holding up my hand to knock against the glass. I freeze like I’ve been caught in the middle of something I don’t want to be in. I see my close friends together in a way that makes me go sick to my stomach, and I’m tempted to retch up my dinner.
I wish I could erase this from my memory. I wish I never came here. Because then I could pretend that my two best friends were still in my corner. But this is real life, and shit happens.
Cole is getting sucked off by Leah. His shirt is off, his triceps flexing hard as he tugs on her hair. He’s fucking her face slow and gently. His eyes are on her mouth, and she looks like she’s choking on him from how rough he’s being with her throat. But she smiles like she’s enjoying it through her gags. She’s bare naked while Cole has his pants hanging down by his thighs.
They’re looking at each other the way Hayden and I used to. Are they in love?
I tear my eyes away from her window, and my blood runs cold. I take off running back to my car, pressing the unlock button over and over again when I’m still a few feet away. I can’t hear George Strait anymore, just my pulse thundering. I get in my car, slam the door shut, and peel out of her neighborhood. The entire time I drive home, I’m sobbing and gripping thesteering wheel until the rubber pinches my skin from the friction.
I don’t know why I’m crying. I think it’s just from shock.
Every single minute I get closer to my dad’s house, I hope Cole didn’t catch me. There’s no way Leah did because I could only see the back of her head. I don’t need them to know that I saw that. They’re free to do whatever they want.
What did I expect? I was gone for months. They probably turned to each other for comfort and did the cliche thing and started to fuck their grief out. But why am I hurting? Why do I care?
I never saw Cole in that way, anyway, but I guess it’s the principle of feeling like they kept it from me that shocks me. Either way, how could they explain their relationship to me? I’ve been trying to heal. I’m an emotional person overall, and I guess I just wanted to say goodbye to Leah by watching our favorite Rom-Com movies and playing board games in her room until we got full on popcorn and snacks.
But things are different. I’m not the same person I was since I got taken the first time by the blonde vampire who broke my wrist. I’m not. But I’m determined to live the rest of my remaining life to the fullest.
When I get to my house, I run inside and lock the doors behind me. However, when I get to my room to try and finish packing up the rest of my things, the house phone rings.
36
MILLIE
I don’t wantto answer it. I’ve been avoiding the constant ringing of my house phone like the plague because, most of the time, it’s the detective from the local police station on my case or family members who have never checked on me before, wanting to invade my space. I stare at it as it hits the fourth ring. I curse under my breath, and my anxiety slowly withers away.
“Hello?”
