We rock together harder, faster, burning, aching, falling.
And then Parrish comes with a violent shudder, pumping deep and burying himself in me. He holds himself there, shaking and pressing desperate kisses to my head, and then he’s rolling over with a sigh.
We both lie on our backs, quivering and panting, trying to catch our breath.
“After prom, be prepared. Because I don’t just want five minutes with you, stolen in the dead of night. I want as much of you as I can get. From the moment we get home tonight to the moment that prick shows up to take you on Saturday. Hours. More than that.” Parrish turns on his side toward me, putting a hand on my belly and chuckling when I shiver at the contact of his palm. “I don’t know how we’ll manage it, but we’ll figure it out. Even if we have to take breaks to pop downstairs and assure Tess that I’m alive.”
He rolls his eyes; I only know that because I can see the whiteness around his irises in the dark.
“That sounds like heaven,” I tell him, rolling back over to face him. He puts his hand on my waist, and then we’re kissing, and it’s happening all over again. Parrish shucks the previous condom, touching me all over, squeezing my breasts, working us both up into another frenzy until he’s ready. He quickly sits up, yanks open the bottom drawer on the vanity, and digs around until he finds another condom.
We put it on together, and then he’s inside of me again.
We don’t stop. Even when we know we should. Instead, we go until I’m too sleepy to even consider another round.
When we’re finally finished, and I’m done rearranging my clothes, Parrish holds out a hand and helps me to my feet.
“I wish you could stay,” he says, and when I touch the side of his jaw with my fingers, I can see that he’s clenching his teeth.
“Eventually, Tess will chill out a little, and we’ll have the chance to do more. To sleep together, even. Remember: we used to lock our doors at night. Yes, she’d pick the locks sometimes, but not very often. I don’t see why we can’t get back to that.”
“I hope you’re right,” he tells me, sounding tired as he leads the way back into his bedroom. I hope desperately that Chasm and Maxx are asleep, but they might not be. They might be fully aware that we just spent two hours in the bathroom together.
I can only assume that Tess either hasn’t checked on Parrish yet, or else one of them assured her that he was simply going to the bathroom when she did show up. Me, she won’t have looked in on. At least, I hope not.
Parrish escorts me to the doorway, our fingers reluctantly slipping apart as I fight those triggering feelings of fear and sneak back into my own bedroom. It’s just like that night all over again. Only, this time, he has his friends with him. This time, I know what we’re up against.
And this time, I won’t make the same mistakes that I did before.
I’ll end this game, Dad. Check and motherfucking mate.
Our usual routine resumes the next morning: Delphine wakes me up, I plod downstairs, Maxx makes breakfast. But this time, Chasm gets to chill at the table while Parrish gets dressed in his uniform and I find myself a cute little skater dress that has all three guys gaping openly.
Kimber notices, I know she does, and throws me this look that promises she and I are not done—not even if Parrish is home yet. It’s annoying, and quite regressive, but I’ll deal with her later. For now, I’m focused on making this shopping trip with Tess an enjoyable one.
“Let’s speed things up or you’ll be late,” Tess says, frantically sipping her flat white as her phone buzzes and she glances at the screen. “Looks like we’re getting a delivery. It better be my new typewriter.” She says this absently, but the boys and I all go completely still and exchange knowing looks.
Fuck.
That move is going to haunt me for some time which, I know, is sort of Justin’s point.
What I’m worried about is what the next phase of this nightmare will be. Is Maxine going to suffer like Parrish did? What am I going to have to do to get her back? My first tasks were alienating but menial; the next set of tasks were gut-wrenching and heartbreaking.
Now that exams are over, we’re ready to move into the next phase of this bullshit, and I have a bad feeling that it’s going to make everything that came before it look like cakewalk.
“Dakota, can you get the door?” Tess asks as Kimber tries to get her attention, something about a friend’s sleepover, I think. She’s being told a hard no which doesn’t surprise me one bit.
“Sure.” I stand up and walk over to the door in my mismatched Chucks, checking out the window to confirm it’s the delivery guy and not a crazy reporter. It is, thank god. The paparazzi situation has reached nightmare proportions. I open the door and my smile slips slightly as the delivery guy checks the names on the packages and looks up at me.
“Dakota Prior?” he asks, and that’s when I just know I’m going to hate whatever is inside of them.
“That’s … me,” I reply, trying to keep the frustration from my voice. Justin will be watching me right now, no doubts about that. I sign the delivery dude’s iPad and then accept a mountain of fancy boxes not unlike the other mountain of fancy boxes I just received for the launch party.
I consider making a run for my room in an attempt to hide the packages from Tess, but it’s too late. She’s spotted me.
“What’s all that?” she asks with a frown as I turn toward her, and she steps forward to take some of the packages from me. She leads the way into the kitchen and sets them on the counter, picking one of the boxes up and staring at the name on the shipping label. “Dakota Prior?”
Her voice is wicked cold as she flicks a look my way.
“No clue,” I respond honestly as Kimber and all three guys make their way over to see what’s going on.
“These are from Justin?” Maxx confirms dryly, and I nod, my chest tight, my heart thumping.
I take the largest box first and lift the lid off, setting it aside. There’s a small pink envelope nestled in the tissue paper that makes my pulse race as I pick it up and slide the tiny card out of it.
I’ve taken the liberty of sending everything you need for prom tonight. I know you’ve been busy with your studies and haven’t had the time to go shopping. But don’t worry: Daddy’s got your back. I’ve volunteered as a chaperone as well. See you tonight!
P.S. I have the girls coming over to do your hair and makeup again. Be ready for them by six.
My blood goes cold as I pass the card over to Tess’ outstretched hand.
“This son of a bitch,” she snarls, surprising every person in that kitchen at the same time. Her eyes lift up to mine. “Dakota, you don’t have to wear any of these things.” I just keep staring at her, once again feeling that awful, sickening sinking feeling take over me. Don’t I, though? I want to ask, wishing I could tell her the whole truth about Justin, tell her that she’s right, that even if he’s a hundred times more likable than she is, he’s fucking crazy. I asked him not to order me food at a restaurant, and that darkness lingering behind his casual affability rose to the surface like cream. “I can take you out, wherever you want to go. We have all day to shop and get ready for this.” She sets the card down as I unfold the pink tissue paper in the box, revealing a glittering golden gown.
The theme for Whitehall’s prom is—unsurprisingly—all that glitters is gold. According to the boys, last year’s was platinum party. The year before that? Diamonds in the rough. I mean, come on. Do these people care about anything other than money?
When I asked Chas why he allowed such an awful theme, his response was a caustic, “I’m the student body president, not the head of prom committee, naekkeo,” mumbled around a cigarette. But he was hot as hell when he said it, so there’s that.
I lift the dress up and Kimber gasps, putting her hand over her mouth.
“I saw that one online; that’s a seven-thousand-dollar dress.” She sounds envious right now which is ridiculous. I’m sure Paul has purcha
sed her many a gown just like this one. Trust me: I’ve heard stories about Kimber’s closet. Never been allowed to see it since she has yet to let me in her room for even a second, but it’s legendary amongst the boys.
“Looks like you don’t have to go shopping after all. Lucky.” Parrish shrugs his shoulders, trying to make light of a situation that the four of us know is anything but. I don’t get to decide whether I wear this dress or not; I’m wearing it. Period. And Justin knows that.
Tess throws her son a harsh look as Chasm mumbles something in Korean that probably translates to: you are so fucked right now, Little Sister, and I’m sorry.
“Dakota,” Tess repeats, trying to draw my attention away from the dress. I wonder if she’s getting the wrong idea? If she thinks I like having all of my choices taken away and being told what to do. Sure, this time it’s a designer dress but before that, it was fuck this guy, or fuck that guy, or kill this rabbit. Just one more command in a long line of them. “I can’t stop Justin from chaperoning tonight, but I sure as hell can stop this. Let’s go out, just you and me, and we can find a dress that suits you. I won’t comment on it or pass judgment the way I did last time.”
I stare at the off-the shoulder tulle gown with its floral embroidery, its voluminous ball skirt, and all of that careful beading, and I want to scream.
We have Parrish back, but we’ve made zero progress with Justin.
Zero.
We only have Parrish back because he wanted me to find him. Because he was grooming me into a monster shaped after his own likeness. Fuck.
Tess continues talking, which only makes things worse.
“It doesn’t even have be an expensive dress. I only suggest things like that for you because I want you to be able to dress like the other girls, because you’re worth that. You deserve to have nice things.”
Ouch.
Tess just shot an emotional arrow straight through my heart.
“You deserve nice things, Mia.” Justin just said that to me the other day. And he meant it, too. So does Tess. I have two warring parents trying to show me how worth it I am, how I deserve to prosper and bloom, and yet neither of them gets it.
One of them is cold and standoffish while also being clingy and selfish and controlling.
The other murders people and bosses me around while smiling and laughing.
I have never missed my grandparents more than I do in that moment.
“Um, thank you,” I say, bringing the dress in close to my chest and clinging to it like it’s a lifeline. “But this is beautiful. I’d love to wear it to the dance tonight.” Lie. It tastes like ash on my tongue, gritty and awful, the taste of something that once was beautiful but is now nothing but dust.
Tess just stares at me, and even though she tries so damn hard to fight it, I can see it on her face all over again. Disappointment. Disappointment. Disappointment.
“Are you sure about this, Mia?” she asks, and I can’t decide if she’s just upset and that was an emotional slip of the tongue or if she’s taking her anger out on me.
“It’s Dakota,” Maxx corrects, but very gently. Tess ignores him.
“I’m sure,” I say, making myself smile and knowing that I probably look hideous. “I’m absolutely sure.”
Parrish and I exchange a look, but there’s nothing he can do to make Tess like me when I’m acting like a complete crazy person. The real Dakota feels like she’s slipping away like sand through my fingers. Do you know what she’d do in this situation? She’d take this dress and all of the fancy accoutrement that came with it, and she’d donate them to the women’s shelter. Then she’d go out shopping with Tess, buy a black dress with skulls on it, and then suffer through a luncheon with her mom and the stepbrother she’s in love with—all the while, she’d be smiling.
I guess in either scenario, the smile would be fake, but at least in the latter, I’d be making my own choices.
“Okay then,” Tess says woodenly, and then she turns to Parrish, softening slightly. “We need to go, or you’ll be late.”
She turns and heads for the garage as Kimber loses interest and drifts away, leaving me alone with the guys.
“What do you want to do about this?” Chas asks, tapping his fingers on the counter as I lay the dress back in the box.
“There’s nothing to be done,” I say, trying to fight back a surge of raw emotion. I was looking forward to going shopping with Tess, believe it or not. I truly feel like … we could have a relationship if we tried. If I could just be myself. If she could just learn to relax. But that isn’t what Justin wants—at least not yet. I won’t soon forget how he took note of the diamond tennis bracelet I wore in the limo that day. He cares about Tess in his own, strange obsessive way.
Eventually, something will happen to push us together.
I just don’t think either of us will like what that thing is.
“So … match your corsage to this dress?” Chasm continues, trying to make light of the situation. He and Parrish exchange a look, and I can’t help but wonder who, exactly, is supposed to be buying me a corsage.
Parrish grabs a plastic container and pops the top as Maxx steps closer and opens one with a pair of peep-toe gold pumps inside; they have crystals all over them and, of course, red soles. More Louboutins. Inside of Parrish’s container, there’s a series of boutonnieres. As in, the flowers girls buy for dudes to wear to prom on their suit jackets, on the same side as a pocket handkerchief.
There are three very pretty, very red roses.
“Yikes,” Maxx says, reaching out to take one and holding it in his hand. “Why three of them?” He pauses and gestures loosely at Parrish and Chasm. “I mean, I get the symbolism behind it, but I can’t go tonight—not even as a chaperone. I’ve got that dinner thing with my parents.”
“They’re being weird again?” Chasm confirms, and X nods.
“Yep. Disturbingly insistent.” He sighs and sets the flower down before glancing over at me. “I have a bad feeling about tonight,” he says, but I don’t need him to tell me that. We all know something’s going to happen and, whether big or small, it’s going to suck serious ass.
“I do, too,” Parrish agrees, swiping a hand down his face. “But this certainly looks like a very strong suggestion to attend. I don’t imagine Justin would appreciate us backing out now.”
I stare down at the designer boxes strewn across the counter, and I feel sick.
This is going to be bad. It is. I just know it.
The only thing I don’t know is how bad, exactly, it’s going to be.
The answer: monumental.
Laverne’s white limo makes a return visit to the house to pick us up that evening, after I’ve been coiffed and powdered and prettied to Justin’s standards, my green and black hair hanging over my shoulder in a braid woven with beaded gold leaves.
The shoes are adorable, the dress is stunning, but I’m not comfortable wearing any of it.
The phrase gilded cage comes to mind. This outfit, as expensive, as beautiful, as it is, is just that. A trap. A prison. A posh, Babylonian nightmare.
The only part of the outfit that I enjoy comes in the form of three gaping boys at the bottom of the stairs.
“Holy fuck,” Chasm murmurs as I pause on the staircase and smile down at them. “I know Justin sucks serious ass, but you’re goddamn stunning.”
Maxx is already late to dinner with his parents, but I know he wanted to see me all dressed up. He grins as I finish descending the stairs, looking me over with a shake of his head.
“Even though Lumen’s going to be crowned prom queen tonight, damn. There’s no doubt that you’re the one who deserves it. You look like …” He trails off, but that’s okay. I know what he was about to say, and I don’t mind.
“It only bothers me when Justin calls me a princess—you can say it.” I pause when I hit the first floor, my left hand still resting on the newel post, and glance over at Parrish.
He’s completely silent, affecting hi
s apathetic sloth demeanor the best he can since Tess has just walked into the room, but he can’t hide the emotion in his eyes. That beautiful, brimming, overflowing well of emotion that he hides inside of himself and releases only for … me.
“You look … marginally better than normal,” he chokes out, and Tess gives him a sharp look.
“Don’t berate your sister,” she tells him, holding the box of boutonnieres in her hand. Paul waits just beside her, but his eyes aren’t on me. Instead, he looks at Parrish—and even Chasm—with pride. And, happily, he isn’t on his phone which is a damn blessing.
I take the boutonnieres—glad that Maxx took the third one and hid it in his pocket earlier—and study the boys I’m taking to prom.
Chasm is first, in his black-on-black-on-black tux, slacks, and tie. He’s in Seamus-approved mode tonight—unfortunately his dad is also chaperoning—but that doesn’t make him any less handsome. Actually, he looks like a CEO or something. There’s power in the way he stands, in the way his amber eyes take in a room. He’s too smart not to be dangerous.
I hook the red rose to his jacket first before turning to Parrish.
I’d wondered what he might look like all dressed up, and now I get to see it—even if I’m not allowed to appreciate him as openly as I might want to.
His suit and tie are in a muted charcoal color, his outfit as gray as Chasm’s attire is black. With them in their monochrome outfits, the red roses pop like crazy. That, and they’ll be beautiful accompaniments to the gold dress. I attach the second red rose to Parrish’s jacket next, trying to ignore the slight trembling in my hands, and resisting the urge to look up into the toasted coconut color of his eyes.
My only regret, again, is that Maxx isn’t coming with us. I’d have loved to see him in his James Bond outfit beside the other two.
“I have to go,” he says, his voice tinged with deep emotion. “My parents are already blowing up my phone. They asked me to stay the night with them at the cabin so … I’ll see you guys tomorrow? Well, two of you anyway. I know Dakota will be at Justin’s.” Maxx gives me one, last lingering look, and I know we’re both wishing we could kiss each other, that we could say goodbye in a more suitable way.
Payback Princess (Lost Daughter of a Serial Killer Book 2) Page 62
