When she asked me to come to her place, I figured it could be one of two scenarios. Either she wants to really patch things up with me in a private setting, or she wants a continuation of what happened between us in the back hallway at Louie’s. I’m seriously hoping that it’s the latter, because that will make my plan to ruin her all the more complete.
It’s one thing to get her to trust me emotionally, but if she gives herself to me physically, I know my betrayal in the end will fucking wreck her.
That thought stops me in my tracks for a second, burning through the cloud of anger and lust that’s swirling through my head.
What will it do to me if I have sex with her?
Will those old feelings come back? I was fucking in love with her in high school, until the day she broke my family and my heart. If we have sex, will I find myself wanting to have her instead of wanting to destroy her?
A stab of guilt pierces my stomach, and I curl my lips into a snarl, pushing it away.
I don’t want to feel guilty. And yet, somehow, I do.
I know that Emma is a good person, but what she did to my family was just so fucked up that there’s no way around this. I need to see her go down. And if that means getting a chance to fuck her instead of making love to her, then so be it. I gotta do what I gotta do.
Filled with new resolve, I start walking again, picking up the pace as I cross campus toward Emma’s dorm.
My phone buzzes in my back pocket, and I pull it out and answer without looking at it, my gaze still trained on the building in the distance. “Yeah?”
“Hi, honey. You busy?”
Mom.
The cool distance I heard in her voice last night is gone. She sounds relaxed and happy, no longer pissed at me since I explained to her that Emma and I have patched things up, and that we’re going to start fresh.
That’ll all come crashing down soon enough, but she doesn’t need to know that. She doesn’t need to know that Emma is the one who betrayed her either. I’d rather let her live in blissful ignorance, believing the best in people—I’ll take care of it. I’ll protect her.
“Nah. Not too busy. Just about to grab a bite.”
“Oh, well, I won’t keep you. I’m with Paul, heading to dinner too,” Mom says.
“Cool.”
The word is a deadpan grunt, but she doesn’t pick up on it.
“Yeah, we’re trying out a new place tonight. I hope it’s not a dud.” She laughs, and I get the sense that she’s beating around the bush, putting off telling me what she really called for. I stop and knit my brow.
“I’m meeting up with a friend, Mom. I gotta go.”
“Oh, wait, before you go,” she says quickly. “Paul and I have been discussing the idea of taking a trip together. All four of us. What do you think about that?”
I lift the phone away from my ear, staring at it. What do I think?
Jesus. I try to imagine myself going on a vacation with Emma and her dad, and the idea seems so fucked up to me that I can’t even picture it. Fucking hell, we had one dinner together, and now we’re all supposed to pile into a car and take a road trip together or something? What, am I supposed to start thinking of Emma as my sister?
&
nbsp; That thought fills me with a new kind of rage, something I don’t quite understand.
She’s not my fucking sister.
She’ll never be my sister.
“That would be… interesting,” I say, not hiding my doubt.
“Well, nothing is set in stone. Just wanted to mention it to you.” She either doesn’t pick up on the tone of my voice, or she’s ignoring it. “And I think it’s just so sweet that you and Emma spoke today, and things seem to be on the mend.”
“Yeah, we talked. Everything’s good.”