Series: Webs We Weave Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 145038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Of course, I remember.
I remember how she tossed my jeans in the wash and bought me my first box of tampons. I remember how she told me girls like Madeline were just unhappy with themselves, and that’s why they were so mean to those around them. I remember the mint-chocolate-chip ice cream. I remember the song.
Mostly, I remember feeling like I could have lived inside that moment with my mom forever. But now…now it feels like swimming through tar just to reach that love.
Seeing her, I thought I could mask this hurt. But I can’t. I just can’t.
“I was never in Victoria for a job.” I unleash that truth in one acidic second. “Hailey and I came to Connecticut to get away from everything. To quit.” It feels like I’m an angsty teenager, throwing my one act of rebellion in her face.
I catch Rocky smiling before he takes a quick drag from his cigarette. He’s amused by my outburst. Lovely. At least he’s not scolding me for caving too early. We were at least supposed to wait for his dad.
Elizabeth shakes her head. “I don’t understand.”
“You don’t have to understand,” I say snidely. God, who am I? “I quit grifting.”
They both cringe at the word. “We don’t grift,” Addison says.
“Lying, cheating, scamming, whatever you want to call it—I was out.”
“Was.” Elizabeth catches that word. Her eyes flit to Rocky, then back to me. “So this was just a break?”
Maybe. I grind down on my teeth. “I haven’t decided,” I say truthfully.
Elizabeth slowly sinks down onto the wicker settee and pats the floral cushion. “Here, sit, sit,” she says to me, like we’re about to have a heart-to-heart about the boy I like in school. And you know, not discuss how I was trying to leave the family business of deceit and fraud.
“I don’t want to fucking sit,” I tell her.
Her face pulls into confusion, hurt. I’ve never rebelled, not really. I’ve been the dutiful daughter. The team player. The one you can count on. It’s what I’ve prided myself on, so right now, I try not to hate myself more than I hate her.
“It’s not a big deal,” Rocky says casually, and I love him for it. Especially since I distinctly remember he was the one who drove to a motel and told me I’d lost my fucking mind.
“So this means what?” Addison asks, putting out her cigarette on the ashtray. “You’ve been living in Victoria and doing what…?” She gasps suddenly. “Are you and Hailey actually servers at the country club? You aren’t shills?”
Elizabeth pales. “No.” Her appalled gaze swings to mine. “You’re really a waitress?”
“I do more than just wait tables…”
That explanation doesn’t help much. Addison leans back like she might be sick, and she grabs my mom’s hand again. “Bethy.”
“I know.”
“We’ve taught them nothing,” Addison says in an anguished breath.
If Hailey were here, she’d say, You taught us everything.
But I just have her brother here instead, and he says, “Jesus Christ, it’s not the end of the fucking world.”
“Says the person she’s waiting on,” Elizabeth retorts, giving him a sharp glance. “Grey Thornhall.”
“Phoebe didn’t want to be a rich bitch like me,” Rocky says, which almost makes me smile. “You two talk about choices. Respect hers.”
They’re disappointed in mine. I’m trying to get used to it, because I’m about to pile on the disappointment until it’s one giant landfill.
Elizabeth taps ash to the side. “If you wanted to stay here without running a con, you could’ve put yourself in a position of power like Rocky did.”
“Do you know how those men talk about the servers?” Addison asks me.
“Of course, I know.” I hate how they believe I’m naïve in my decision to choose an honest job. Heat in my lungs, I tell them, “News flash, the world needs servers, and it’s a thankless, demoralizing position at times—but I wouldn’t trade it. Because I get to work with my best friend, and we’re not terrible at what we do. We’re actually the best ones there.”
Okay, I’m not in the running for any VCC Employee of the Month awards (not that those exist), but they don’t need to know that we’re slowly learning.
“She’s not sixteen,” Rocky points out. “She’s an adult. She can choose whatever bland job she wants.”
“Thank you,” I say.
Addison seems nauseous. “Great, she’s old enough to be objectified daily by club members, and are you a part of those groups, Bray?” I didn’t expect her disappointment to swing in his direction. “Have you just sat by while they dig at Phoebe? At Hailey—your sister? When there’s no recourse in sight for those people? No plan to pick at their pockets? No plan to make them pay?”
Rocky grinds his molars. Before he responds, I cut in. “It is what it is,” I say. “It’s not something you can decide or control. So just…let it go.”