SADIE
There has to be a limit to how much audacity one person can have, and Paige expecting me to drop my suitcase, magic up a chair and give her the floor feels safely past it.
I keep walking toward the doors.
"You’re really doing the tough-girl thing now?" She calls after me. "How long do you think that’s gonna last?"
Well, shit. That’s uncomfortably close to a conversation I’m already having with myself.
Not enough to make me stop, though. One pep talk about growing a backbone doesn’t mean I suddenly grew muscles too and developed an urge to start throwing punches. There’s being bolder, and then there’s volunteering for an ass beating. I know the difference.
I make it a few more steps before the click of heels speeds up behind me, and before I can decide whether Paige is actually insane enough to chase me across the lobby, a hand buries into my curls and yanks.
"Ah!" My suitcase drops as both hands fly to my hair. "What the hell?"
"Don’t you fucking walk away from me!" Paige screeches.
It takes both hands and a painful amount of tugging to peel her fingers out of my hair. The second I’m free, I shove her away from me and stumble back, one hand immediately going to my head.
My scalp is burning. Half my bun has come loose, curls are hanging around my face, and I actually have to run my fingers over the sore spot to make sure this psycho didn’t take a chunk of my hair with her.
My chest rises and falls as I glare at her. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
Her eyes flare. "You think you can act like this with me now?"
"I can act however I want," I snap, except it comes out with nowhere near the bite it had in my head.
I hate that. I hate that after all these years, some stupid part of me still remembers exactly what it feels like to be sixteen and terrified of her.
Paige sees right through me, and the satisfaction that creeps onto her face makes me hate the stupid shake in my voice even more.
She comes closer, and my body immediately wants to give her the space. One step back. That’s all it would take but I stay where I am.
"Boreal really has gone to your head, hasn’t it?" Her eyes travel over me. "A scholarship, a few decent clothes, people calling you a student instead of the help, and suddenly you think we’re equals." Her mouth twists. "Sadie, you used to clean my room."
Lycans are supposed to be graceful. Elegant, even. Not sure what happened with Paige here. If anything, she’s gotten worse with age.
"You know what your problem is?" Her expression sours, but I’m not actually asking. "Everyone else grew up. You didn’t. You’re still the same mean girl with the same tired tricks."
Her eye twitches, and wow. That feels better than it should.
Then she starts smiling and there goes my fun.
"You’re right." Her gaze drops, stopping around my chest. "You definitely grew up."
Excuse me?
She gives me a slow once-over before looking at my face again. "D cup? Didn’t see that coming."
"Are you...."
Instead of explaining whatever weird turn this conversation has taken, she reaches into her handbag.
"Actually, I’m glad you brought up growing up." Her phone appears in her hand. "Because I’ve been dying to show everyone your little glow-up."
Oh, I don’t like the sound of that, especially not with her phone involved.
She taps around for a few seconds, looking far too pleased with herself, and every second she spends searching makes the knot forming in my stomach pull a little tighter. Then she turns the screen toward me.
And there I am. On the bed in the hotel room. In the lingerie and sheer robe.
A chill tears through me so violently my knees almost buckle. Heat follows right behind it, rushing up my neck and across my face until I don’t know whether I’m cold or burning alive.
There’s a picture of me half naked in Paige’s phone. In her hand.
She got it. I thought I stopped her that night. I thought knocking the phone away was at least one small disaster I managed to prevent.
My stomach rolls, forcing me to swallow against the sudden taste of lunch at the back of my throat as a dozen worse thoughts pile in at once.
Has she shown anyone? Her friends? Did she send it to herself somewhere in case I grabbed her phone? How many people have already seen me like this while I’ve been walking around campus blissfully unaware?
Goddess, I’m going to be sick.
The screen disappears before I can torture myself with it any longer, but Paige keeps the phone loose in her hand, turning it between her fingers.
One tap. That’s probably all she needs. She can throw it onto her stupid gossip page with the caption makes me look the most pathetic, and by tomorrow I’ll be walking into classes wondering how many people have seen me half naked.
"What do you want?" I ask through clenched teeth.
"Nothing crazy." She slips the phone against her palm. "Unblock Ezra."
The threat hanging over my head gets temporarily shoved aside by pure disbelief.
"You don’t get to block him and throw a tantrum because he picked me." She eyes me. "He asked you for something. Send it to him."
She cannot be serious. All this over a jeweler?
"Actually, since you suddenly have all this attitude, maybe you need something to keep you busy." She pouts. "My favorite watch needs fixing too and I’m sure I can think of a few other things. You used to be so useful."
Useful. Funny how differently she remembers those years. I don’t remember ever feeling like I had much of a choice.
"Don’t look at me like that." She laughs. "You did it for months. Run a few errands, do what I ask, and I don’t post the picture. Easy."
Easy. Sure. The worst part is how normal she makes it sound, like she’s offering me a deal any reasonable person would take. What do I look like to her? A donkey?
The nausea hasn’t gone anywhere, but embarrassing as the thought of my boobs circulating around Boreal is, I refuse to let them send me five years backward.
"If you seriously think I’m doing any of that, you’re insane."
Her eyes narrow. "You should think very carefully about what you’re saying."
"Trust me, I have." My voice still has that annoying little shake in it, but whatever. It works. "I’m not unblocking Ezra, he’s not getting that number, and you can definitely forget whatever little list of chores you were planning for me."
My eyes drop to the phone in her hand. The sight of it sends another awful twist through my stomach, and every sensible thought in my head is begging me not to say what comes next.
"And the picture?" I look back at her. "Post it."
She blinks and the tiny reaction gives me enough courage to keep going.
"Go ahead, Paige. Put it on your stupid gossip page. Send it to everyone at Boreal if that’s what gets you through the night." I take another step toward her. "I’ll sue you."
The threat leaves my mouth with a lot more confidence than my bank account has any business supporting.
Sue her with what? The twelve dollars I’m mentally reserving for groceries next week?
Paige’s face tells me she’s reached the same conclusion.
"You’ll sue me?" A laugh slips out as she reaches over and pokes me hard in the shoulder. "With what money?"
I knock her hand away. "Keep your hands to yourself."
"Goddess, you really have no idea how this works." Her finger comes right back, digging into the same spot because respecting a boundary would require Paige to acknowledge that I’m allowed to have one. "You’re an omega with no family, and barely enough money to keep yourself from going rogue. Who exactly do you think is going to take your word over mine?"
My face burns, but I hold her stare. "A lawyer."
She scoffs. "And when my family gets involved? When Ezra does? You think anyone is going to risk pissing off a Lycan family and the Mercers because Sadie Rhodes got her feelings hurt?"
A few days ago, that would’ve done it. Paige would’ve said Mercers in that tone and I would’ve remembered exactly where I sat on the food chain.
Except my attention catches on the glass doors behind her, and through them, on the car waiting outside.
Trey.
Now, bringing him into this would be ridiculous. I’ve known the man for a few days, so I’m probably several friendship levels away from calling him in to fight my battles.
Paige doesn’t know that, though. And after everything she’s put me through today, I’m comfortable letting her imagination do some work.
"You’re not the only one who knows powerful people anymore."
Something changes in her face. "What’s that supposed to mean?"
I shrug and reach for my suitcase.
"Who the hell do you know?" she demands.
"Guess you’ll find out." Then, because I’ve already made several questionable decisions in the last five minutes and one more probably won’t kill me, I add, "Oh, and Paige? Thanks for taking Ezra off my hands. Turns out, he was just trash."
Her face hardens. "Sadie."
"Enjoy him."
That one feels good enough to carry me all the way to the doors.
"Don’t you fucking walk away from me!" she screams after me.