Page 53 of Jagger
"They want to meet you! We need to fly to L.A.”
I gape at her as she taps away on her phone, her brow furrowed.
“L.A.? Aph, we have exams…"
Aphrodite waves her hand. "We'll be there for those. But oh my God, this is so exciting! A girls' trip!"
My eyes move to the beefy bodyguard who's busy glaring at everyone in the vicinity, and she shrugs.
"Well, pretty much."
"You're serious," I respond with a laugh. “L.A?”
"I know! God, we need it, don't we?" Aphrodite tilts her head and then links arms with me. "After everything, Molly…" She doesn't need to continue. I nod, and she grins. "Great! I'll book the flights and hotel right now."
It must be amazing to be able to live the way Aphrodite and Jagger do. I think back to my aunt and the area she lived in, how Lawson had burned it down and left me with no family and nowhere to live. If I didn't have the friends I have…
Aphrodite saved me. I owe her bigtime, and if she wants to pay for us to have a vacation in L.A, I'm down.
"Thank you," I say as Aphrodite looks up at me in confusion.
"What for?" She wrinkles her nose, and she looks so cute I can't help but laugh. "Taking you on a well-deserved vacay?"
"No," I reply, then realize I'm being rude. "Yes—but also for saving me."
Aphrodite stills, her black nails clutching the phone before her body sags. "Molly, you don't ever have to thank me."
A lump clogs my throat. "I do. Because you saved me. No one else."
Aphrodite frowns, shaking her head. "No, it wasn't me alone. You know that. Wolfe and Jagger?—"
"It was you," I interrupt her, clearing my throat. "Your men and women broke in and set that place on fire. You."
Aphrodite looks like she's going to argue, but something in my eyes must put her off because she only says, "Wolfe and Nicole did help. I know you hate Jagger…but he did too. He paid, and he?—"
"He's nothing to me."
I mean it too; Jagger is nothing to me. I never want to see him again, and Aphrodite promised me I won't have to. She told him not to turn up unannounced, and so far, he's kept away. Since the flowers, I've heard nothing from him, and that's the way I like it.
"I know," Aphrodite says with concern. "I wish you'd tell me why."
I have zero intention of telling her, it would only cause her unnecessary grief, and after everything she's done for me, I don't want that for her. Plus, she's struggling too—she's not said a word about her parents, and every time I try to talk about them, she shuts me down. I can only hope Kaden is having more luck than I am, because it's clear he cares about her.
I love their relationship, and the more I see them together, the more I want it.
But who the hell would want me—a damaged, fucked up, used woman? Who would understand? I couldn't imagine telling any potential boyfriend that I'd been sold to men for sex since I was young.
I can't.
I don't even know if I'll have sex ever again. The thought ofanyonetouching me makes me feel violently sick.
"He's dead," Aphrodite comforts gently, her hand on mine. "He'll never hurt you again."
My eyes sting with tears, and I take a deep breath, wiping them away before they can fall. "I know."
But he still haunts me.
"So, when do we go to L.A?” I ask brightly, trying to bring myself back to the present time, just like the therapist Aphrodite insisted I see had told me to. I pinch myself sometimes until it hurts just to remind myself where I am.
