Hating You (Blackthorn Elite 1)

I shrug. “I don’t know. Burton, I think.”

“Burton?” My father rubs at his chin as if he’s deep in thought, “Hmmm, doesn’t ring a bell, which means she doesn’t matter. You need to make some more friends. More important friends. Remember, it isn’t what you know, it’s who you know, that will get you places. This is the perfect school for you to make those kinds of friends, so don’t waste this opportunity. You aren’t here to make lifelong friends. You’re here to make connections, Willow.”

Curling my fingers into my hand, I sink my nails into the tender flesh of my palm. Of course, he is here for his own gain. Disappointment sinks like a heavy stone to the bottom of my stomach.

“You didn’t drive two hours one way just to tell me that, did you? Because if you did, you’re going to be gravely disappointed. I’m not here to make connections or friends. I’m just here because it was this or home with you, and anything is better than being stuck in that mansion with you.” I’m talking out of line, antagonizing him, but I don’t care. All I want is for him to feel even a sliver of the same pain my sister or me feel.

Raging fire flickers in his dark eyes, his jaw tenses, “You promised you wouldn’t make a mockery out of me, Willow. And part of that is you needing to represent me and our family name in an elegant manner. So whether you like it or not, you will befriend people of importance, you will wear clothes that are appropriate, and you will do all of those things with a smile on your face, or do I need to remind you of what happens if you don’t?”

I open my mouth to speak, to reply with anything, but I’m interrupted before I can.

“Welcome, dear students and families,” a female voice filters through the speakers. “We are so happy to have you all here today…” she continues her speech, but I drown the rest of it out. All I can think about is my father’s threats, his demands, and what happens to my poor sister if I don’t comply. I hate him, truly, I do.

Gritting my teeth, I sit through the rest of the brunch, which thankfully goes by in a blur. After we are done eating, everyone gets up to mingle, which is exactly what my father came here for. I consider leaving right then and there, just to spite my father, but I won’t pay for it. My sister will, and I can’t let an innocent pay the price for my wrongdoings.

Alice finds us first; her parents greet us with smiles and friendliness, while my father looks them up and down like they are wearing dirty rags. Great, he’s going to cost me my only friend.

“Burton, is it?” My father tsks, and I already know where this is going to go. “I don’t think I’ve heard that name before.”

“Yes, Burton,” Alice’s father replies while shaking my father’s hand. Like most men, he doesn’t seem even a little intimidated by my father. “I try to keep my name out of the spotlight as much as I can. I’m more of a silent partner.”

My father smiles, but it looks more like if a shark smiled at you. His eyes light up, and excitement overtakes his features. Of course, that piques his interest. It doesn’t matter where we are or what we’re doing. Business is the only thing that matters to him. My father’s conversation carries on while Alice and her mom excuse themselves to go and talk to someone else they know. Pretending I don’t care, I smile and cross my arms over my chest. It’s almost too hard to watch as all the happy families laugh and hug. I won’t ever have this, a happy family, someone that is excited to see me. Ugh, pity party for one, I guess. Distracting myself, my gaze wanders around the room until I find a person in the far corner of the room…

He’s half cloaked in darkness, the shadows covering his face. Even without seeing his features, I feel like I know him. The way he holds his body, there is something so familiar about it. I rack my brain, trying to recall meeting someone such as him, but nothing comes. Right then, the small hairs on the back of my neck rise up, goosebumps spread across my arms, and my heart starts to beat in an irregular rhythm. Dread fills my gut, and even though I have no reason to feel the way that I do right now, I can’t shut the feelings off. It’s like deep down, I know something bad is going to happen.

What is going on?

Like a hand gripping onto your leg in an old horror movie, fear claws at me, threatening to pull me under. I can’t even see his face, only the contours of his broad shoulders, muscular chest, and the way his large hand is wrapped around the delicate glass he’s holding. It’s almost as if with the simplest of pressures, he could break it.