Page 334 of Hell Hath No Fury
He did too, his bowl of oatmeal poised in the air. The clang of the spoon meeting porcelain sounded. “It’s done?”
“Yeah,” I said. But nothing came out, so bottle in hand, I shut the door, and repeated, “Yeah, it’s done.”
I didn’t want to, but I knew I had to and met his cobalt eyes. “Good.” He nodded, then dumped his bowl onto the wooden countertop and stepped forward to clap me on the shoulder. “Proud of you,” he said, grabbing both shoulders and smiling in a way that said he understood.
I was willing to bet he had no idea even though I’d never been able to make him confess to his own initiation.
“It’s a beast, but it’s one you want to find yourself riding instead of running from. Trust me.”
I felt my eyes grow at that, and he chuckled before it must have dawned on him.
He stepped back, clearing his throat. “Well, the two boys are leaving today, so I better get out there and make sure they’re looking a hundred percent.” He paused behind me, and saidwith too much knowing, “Supreme benefits at supreme costs, Coop.”
I nodded, staring at the place he’d been standing long after the screen door leading out to the back porch slapped closed. “Right,” I said, remembering all too well. “Supreme indeed.”
Dad had recently retired from running his own accounting firm in the market square to help Mom with the racehorses she bred and trained. People purchased them from all over, and the waiting list was usually half a mile long for one of her foals.
Dad had kept the firm in hopes I’d eventually want to take it over, but I hadn’t yet decided what I wanted to do. I liked numbers and the idea of earning enough money to never worry about not having enough, but I also loved working outside on our property with the horses, and just in general.
We weren’t loaded like many of the other folks in Nightingale, like Rose and her father and the other elite families who lived upon the island, but I knew we had more money than what might ever be needed.
I had no desire to become an obnoxious, money-hungry grub. But I knew from my father’s many vague lectures and the information passed on from my mom that if I wanted something, Nightingale could make it happen.
I was their only child, so I had no choice in the matter. Not to initiate would’ve disgraced my entire family, myself, and tarnished my future more than whatever they could’ve asked of my soul.
The lesser of two very real evils, most certainly.
No, my soul’s fine, I thought, leaning in the doorway of my room to watch Rose sleep.
My heart, on the other hand, was now at war.
* * *
“Your towel and trunks are in here,” Mom said, entering the kitchen with an overflowing basket of clean laundry.
I looked up from the game of Sudoku I was playing on my phone. “Thanks.” Rose, sitting across from me eating a bagel slathered in cream cheese, kicked my shin under the table. “I’ll fold it, just leave it there.”
Mom smiled at Rose, then gave my hair a tousle as if I were still five and not eighteen. “Mom,” I huffed, waving her away.
“Late night?” she said and proceeded to fold the washing right there at the dining table.
I looked at Rose, who’d woken up not long ago, but she was staring down at the white plate.
“You were awake when we got in,” I said, not wanting to talk about it. Ever.
She got the memo and nodded. “I’m making a casserole for dinner. Are you staying, Rose?”
“I should probably go home,” she said, knowing full well she didn’t have to. Her dad was rarely there, which was cool because more freedom to have sex and all, but it was also lonely on the rare nights we weren’t together. “You coming?” she asked.
For what felt like the first time in twenty-four hours, I met her inky eyes. I then studied the tiny freckle residing beside those pouty pink lips, and the faint smattering that dotted her tiny nose.
I loved her. I loved her so much that I knew she couldn’t do anything to dampen it.
Even though she’d fucked someone else. Or someone else had fucked her.
I’d let it happen, had wanted it to happen, and I’d come so hard because it’d happened that I had to look away. I coughed a little and got up. “I can’t.”
I left the room, feeling both Rose’s and my mom’s eyes upon my back.
