“You’ll be sorry, Scarlett,” Pierce calls out from behind me.
It reminds me that I’ll be in his orbit one day. He can try to hurt me and my career down the road. But it’s a chance I have to take.
“I’m only sorry I didn’t see you for who you are sooner.”
“You’ll be drugging yourself with Adderall to get through your third year and walking people’s dogs in the rain, picking up shit for money to eat. Then you’ll appreciate how I gave you everything.”
Something inside me snaps.
“You didn’tgiveme anything,” I bite out, waiting for the elevator. “You let me stay here. Youloanedme the life you wanted for me and expected me to pay for it with obedience and subjugation.”
He steps in front of me, and for a beat, he just stares. Then his voice drops into a cold, unfamiliar register. “Good luck without me.”
I pull the bag over my shoulder. “Get out of my way.”
“Keys.” He holds out one precious palm for the apartment keys and the card to work the elevator.
I slam them into his stupid hand and tromp to the stairwell without looking back. Pierce wasn’t a monster until I told him no. He doesn’t know how to love someonewithout owning them.
I don’t remember the steps down to the lobby, but I will always remember how the doorman doesn’t even look at me. His pale, worried face from earlier now makes sense. He probably winked at Pierce, heading up the apartment with Margeaux hanging on him. Bastard.
On the street, I walk aimlessly and consider my options. I can’t show up at my father’s place. As Dean, he lives in a house on the Hamilton school grounds. He sold our house after my mother died to pay off some of the debt, thanks to our crappy insurance. It’s a sad irony that a doctor could be bankrupted by his own family’s medical bills.
But it happened.
How will my dad take the news that Pierce and I broke up? Will he also think I’m not ready to go back to school? Not strong enough? Was marrying a Langston supposed to make up for failing to become a doctor?
I had hoped to meet with my dad about going back to school while still living with Pierce.
Now, Dad might twist my motives. Plus, he’s tight with Ramses Langston. Those two were probably naming our babies over cigars at the Glass Knife club.
My phone buzzes with messages.
Pierce: You made your point.
Pierce: Come back upstairs.
Pierce: We will discuss this rationally.
I block the number and keep walking.
This area of Downtown Manhattan has narrow, cobblestone streets with gothic buildings and scary moldings when the streetlamps hit them at a certain angleat night.
The rain is only a slight inconvenience. It barely registers this time. And of course, I left without an umbrella.
Adrenalin pumping through me, I keep walking, but fear curls low in my gut. I’m technically homeless. I press the heels of my hands against my eyes. I shouldn’t cry. I whisper a promise to myself there and then that I won’t cry over Pierce Langston III. Or any man who slapped me.
I keep walking slowly, my lungs filling with the warm July air, only slightly cooled by the rain.
When I cut across the street, my eyes widen when a pair of headlights slice across the night and come right toward me.
Chapter 3
Scarlett
Terror knifes through my chest. A horn blares, brakes squeak, and tires skid over rain-slick pavement. A taxi bumper punches my knees and sends me tumbling on my ass.
I’m lying flat on my back, assessing how badly I’m hurt as the rear door to the taxi flies open, and a maneruptsfrom the vehicle.