Chapter 28: Taunt Her: Chapter 28

“Remi, sweetheart, breakfast.”

“I’m not hungry,” I yell, pulling a pillow over my face. My eyes are sore and my heart aches as the memories of last night hang over me like a dark storm cloud.

He played me.

Ace played me like a fool.

I can still feel him all over me. His traitorous lips, his sharp teeth, and his treacherous, treacherous touch.

He really is the big bad wolf, and I fell for his ruse hook, line, and sinker.

Bile rushes up my throat and my eyes water as I stumble out of bed and crash into my small bathroom. But I don’t vomit. There’s nothing left, not after I spent most of the night with my head down the toilet bowl.

Pulling myself up, I stand in front of the mirror. I’m a mess. My chest is covered in hickeys and I have faint bruises around my hips and thighs. But the physical marks are nothing compared to the invisible scars he’s left behind.

“Remi?” Mom calls again, and I let out a whimper. If she sees me like this, she’ll lose her shit and probably call James, and that is a whole conversation I never want to have.

If Ace wants to use me to hurt James, he’ll have to do it himself.

A violent shiver rolls up my spine as I slam my hand against the counter. “Damn you, Ace Jagger.”

Even now, standing here broken and bruised and no longer a virgin, I want to protect him. I want to march over to the pool house and demand answers. I want him to look me dead in the eyes and tell me I mean nothing to him.

He doesn’t deserve another chance, I remind myself. I’ve given him enough of those.

Maybe Conner was right all along. Maybe Ace is a lost cause.

Tears roll down my cheeks but I brush them aside. I’ve been this girl before—scared, weak, alone. I won’t be her again.

Ace Jagger was a mistake.

One I vow never to make again.

By the time I drag myself downstairs, Mom is pacing the kitchen. “There you are,” she smiles. “I was getting worried.”

“What’s up, Mom?”

“I could ask you the same thing. Whatever is the matter?” She rushes over to me, brushing the hair from my face.

“I didn’t sleep very well.”

“Remi, what is it?”

“Me and Ace.” I choke over his name. The rest of the words get stuck, and I shake my head, desperately trying to swallow the tears.

“Oh, baby, I’m sorry. Despite my misgivings about the two of you, I could see how much you cared for him. Want to talk about it?”

“No, I really don’t.” My eyes drop to the floor.

“I hate to ask this, baby, but he didn’t—“

“What, no!” I rush out, the instinctive urge to defend him still swarming in my chest. “You were right all along. We’re too different. It could never work.”

“Oh, sweetheart, come here.” She pulls me into her arms. “And on your birthday no less. I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah,” I whisper. “Me too.”

“I know it’s probably not what you want to hear, sweetheart, but it’s probably for the best. It’s senior year, you need to stay focused. And there’s plenty of other boys out—“

I jerk back. “I swear, Mom, if you say Bexley’s name, I will scream.”

“I wasn’t going to mention him.” But the glimmer of guilt in her eyes tells me otherwise. “I had planned a girls’ day for the two of us, but I should imagine you’re not feeling in the mood now.” Sadness etches into her expression.

“You did?”

“It was supposed to be a surprise, but I booked us in at La Dolce Vita for mani-pedis and facials.”

“That’s nice, Mom.” I fight a grimace.

“I know it’s not really your thing, but you used to love getting pampered when you were a little girl. I thought it would be nice.”

“Sure thing, Mom.” I don’t have the heart to tell her no. Besides, maybe it’ll give me a distraction.

“Really?” Her eyes light up. “I’m so excited. I had started breakfast,” she glances over to the plate of pancakes, “but why don’t we go crazy and get something on the way?”

“Are you sure, I don’t want—“

“Oh hush, now. I can afford to spoil my only daughter for her birthday. Besides, James is treating us to the pamper session. He told us to get whatever we wanted.”

I press my lips together and force a smile.

Of course he did.

La Dolce Vita is exactly as I remember it: spacious and opulent with high ceilings and a rich gold and black color decor. It screams luxury, and reminds me of a time when we didn’t have to worry about the price tag of the various treatments on offer.

As it is, we don’t have to worry. James is picking up the tab. I realize the second I’m swept away by a glamorous beautician called Shelbie that coming here was a mistake. I don’t want to sit and make small talk with a woman who is preened and primped within an inch of her life.

“So sweetie,” she sing-songs, “I thought we’d start with the mani and then move onto the pedi. And then we’ll get you in the chair for your facial. ‘Kay?” Her plump lips curve revealing a set of pearly white teeth.

“Sure.”

She gets to work on my nails, filing and buffering. “So you just turned eighteen?”

“I did.”

“How exciting. Any big plans to celebrate?”

“Not really.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.” Shelbie leans in and lowers her voice. “A pretty thing like you must have a line of guys all vying for her attention.”

“No line, sorry.”

Her eyes flick to where Mom is chatting away to her beautician. She’s so at ease here, as if she’s always belonged in a place like this. The thought stings.

“Your secret’s safe with me,” she whispers, a conspiratorial edge to her words.

“Hmm, okay, thanks,” I say, because it’s easier than correcting her.

“Oh to be young again, when everything is perkier and tighter, if you know what I’m saying.” Shelbie winks at me.

By the time I’m done, my nails are a glossy black at the base that bleeds into a deep red ombré at the tip. It’s the perfect shade to match my mood.

“Right, if you swing your chair around and pop your feet up on that step, I’ll be right with you. The chair reclines, so feel free to sit back and relax.”

I do as she suggests, it gives me a reason to close my eyes and avoid any more small talk. But the second everything goes dark, I see him.

Ace.

His icy, soulless eyes staring back at me.

I blink away the fresh tears, staring up at the ceiling while Shelbie sets to work. Off in the distance, the doorbell chimes and voices fill the studio.

“Hey, check it out.” I notice Lylah Donovan’s dulcet tone and stiffen.

“Girls,” Mom says. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Hi, Ms Tanner,” Michaela says, and I can’t resist peeking over. Sure enough, Michaela, Lylah and a couple of their other cheer friends stand there, wearing their fake smiles and designer clothes.

“Michaela, it’s nice to see you again.”

“Ugh,” I groan, sinking back into the plush velvet chair.

“Problem, sweetie?” Shelbie asks, but before I can answer, I feel someone approach.

“I didn’t realize they let trash in this place.” I open my eyes to find Michaela glaring at me. She keeps her voice low enough so no one but me and Shelbie can hear her. “Someone really should speak to the manager about that.”

Shelbie keeps quiet as she continues moisturizing my feet.

“Leave it out, Michaela,” I release a heavy sigh. “I’m not in the mood.”

“I guess you wouldn’t be after Ace finally saw sense and dropped you.”

“What did you say?” My hands curl around the arm of the chair, digging into the soft silky material.

“You heard me. I’m hardly surprised though. Why have hamburger when you can have steak?”

I vibrate with anger, but it’s nothing compared to the pain coiled around my heart.

Ace told her?

He told Michaela about us?

No, I don’t believe that. Ace is many things, but he knows Michaela is my weakness.

I can’t believe he’d stoop so low.

“How do you know?” I ask, even though it kills me.

“How do you think I know? He told me, of course.”

The air from my lungs. “No, he wouldn’t”—

“What can I say?” She shrugs, flicking her blonde locks off her shoulder. “But don’t worry, I comforted him the best I could.”

Bile burns in my stomach, and I swallow hard.

“He was more than—“

“Michaela,” Shelbie finally speaks, “don’t you think you’ve done enough?”

“Who, me? I was merely stopping by to wish Remi a belated happy birthday.” Her lips curve with malice. “Happy birthday, step-sister.” She wiggles her fingers and walks away as if she didn’t just deliver the final blow.

“Are you okay, sweetie?” Shelbie offers me a sympathetic smile.

“Yeah, no thanks to you,” I bite, and she drops her head.

I know it’s not really her fault. Michaela’s mom is a regular here—not to mention one of the town’s most respected women. Even if she is a home-wrecking whore. Going up against Michaela is just asking for trouble.

But still, I don’t apologize.

I can’t.

Because there’s only so much one person can take. And I’ve reached my limit with traitorous bad boys and toxic prep school princesses.

“This was a good idea,” I say to Hadley before taking another long pull on the bottle of wine we stole from my mom’s stash.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” she replies. There’s something in her tone that makes me sit up straighter.

“Why?” I frown.

“Why what?”

“Why do you have that look?”

“I don’t have a look.” She averts her shifty gaze.

“Hadley Dove Rexford, you’re hiding something.”

“Ahh, shit, Remi. Your mom is going to kill me.”

“My mom? What the hell does she have to do with this?”

“I’m supposed to be distracting you, not getting you drunk.” Guilt flashes in her eyes.

“Oh god.” I suddenly feel sober. “Tell me she isn’t planning something.”

Hadley presses her lips together.

“A party? She’s throwing me a party, isn’t she?” It all makes sense now.

The pamper session. The new outfit she insisted on buying me afterwards. And the fact that she just so happened to invite Hadley over to keep me company while she went to see James.

“She’s crazy. My mom is actually batshit crazy.” I bury my face in my hands. This is the worst thing that could happen right now. I don’t want a party, let alone a surprise party at James’ house.

“She’s not crazy. She just wanted to do a nice thing for you.”

“Fuck,” I breathe. “Tell me she didn’t invite the entire class?”

Hadley’s silence has me cussing like a sailor. “Calm down,” she says, laying a hand on my arm. “It won’t be that bad.”

“Not that bad?” I grind out. “It’s like she doesn’t even know who I am. She can’t think for a second that I’d want to actually celebrate with any of the kids from school?”

“Hmm, she may have roped in Bexley and Michaela to help with the guest list.”

“What the fuck?” I leap up. I don’t know where I’m going, but I can’t sit. Not when I have all this restless energy zipping through me.

“I can’t believe this. The Jaggers’ is the last I want to be right now, Hads.”

“I know. But if it’s any consolation, Ace isn’t there.”

“What?” My stomach dips. “How do you know that?”

Her expression falls. “I may have helped deliver some stuff to the house earlier.”

“Hadley!” I hiss. “And here I was thinking we were friends.”

“Hey, we are. But your mom was so excited about it, I didn’t have the heart to dash her plans. Besides, I didn’t know asshole features was going to do that to you. I’m sorry.”

“I know.” I flop back down on the couch. “Why would anyone come, though? It’s not like I’m friends with anyone.”

“People don’t need an excuse to party. Besides, it’s James Jagger’s house. Kids have been chomping at the bit to get a look inside that place for years.”

“So people are only coming because it gives them behind the scenes access. Nice.”

“You know, not everyone at school is as bad as you make them out to be.”

“You mean like Hayden?” My brow rises.

“Not just Hayden. Some people try to be your friend, Remi. But after being constantly pushed away, eventually they stop trying.”

She’s not wrong.

But it doesn’t make it any easier to swallow.

It’s been so easy to close myself off. To protect myself. After what happened with my dad and Michaela, and then Mom’s ex-boyfriend, I didn’t know who to trust anymore.

So I decided to trust no one.

Hadley has always been an exception to the rule. The second she arrived at Sterling Prep in junior year and we got paired together for math, I knew she was different.

“Look, I know you’re hurting, and I know a party is the last thing on your mind. But what’s the alternative? Sitting here, getting drunk, and crying over Ace? Please, you’re better than that.”

“What are you thinking?” Because the picture she paints does sound all kinds of lame.

“I’m thinking, you put on the most killer outfit you can find, you let me do your hair and make-up, we finish that bottle of wine, and we crash your party the way it deserves to be crashed. In total style and with zero fucks given.”

I grin back at her. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

“So you’re in?”

Ace, Michaela, Bexley, Lylah… they could taunt me and tease me, hurt me and harass me, but they would never break me.

“Oh, I’m in.” A lick of anticipation simmers beneath my skin. “I’m so in.”