“If that makes you happy, then good for you,” I finally say in a monotone voice.
She pauses. “You don’t care?”
“Why would I care?”
“He likes you.”
I roll my eyes, annoyed by her school girl shit. She acts like we’re two girls getting ready for prom, gossiping about boys. She plays the classic mean girl act well. Pretends to be nice but all her sugary sweet words are laced with salty insults. Too bad for her, I'm not interested in playing this game.
“You have a man at home, right? Z is his name?” she asks, noting my reaction. She pulls my hair particularly tight, and I hiss in response.
“Gentle,” I snap. She only smiles, waiting for a response to her question.
“Why do you care?” I ask, my anger heightening when she runs her hands through the rest of my hair roughly, tearing through knots.
“A sexy Puerto Rican man has the hots for you, and you don't care." She shrugs. "And I guess I’m curious about the man that makes you so valuable. Is he looking for you?”
Rio does not have the hots for me, but I ignore that.
“Don’t we all have someone looking for us?”
She shrugs. “No,” she says simply, and I almost feel a pinch of sympathy. “Do you really believe he’s going to be able to save you?”
I flatten my lips, debating on responding at all. If I say anything incriminating, she will immediately use it against me. Twist my words and tell Francesca that I’m trying to escape or something.
“I think all of our loved ones would at least try. That’s what people do when they love you.”
I hope that hurt.
She gathers my hair together, beginning to pull it into a ponytail in the middle of my head.
“Do you think he would save me, too?” she asks quietly.
She keeps her eyes downcast, leaving me bereft of her expression. Manipulative cunt.
“I think he would save everyone,” I say. And then kill her himself.
Finally, she looks up at me, a twinkle in her eye that has my muscles tightening.
“If he does, I’d be happy to suck his cock for it. Let him fuck me in the ass, too, if he really wants.”
I narrow my eyes, gritting my teeth so roughly, I’m close to cracking my molars.
“He would never touch you,” I snap. “Nor would he let you touch him.”
A gleeful smile stretches across her face, and I internally slap myself for giving her the reaction she wanted.
“I think he would once he sees how much better I am than you. I’ve been here too long not to know how to make a man come in five seconds.”
She fashions my hair into a messy coif that I’d probably consider beautiful if I knew that being anything but ugly is going to attract the wrong kinds of attention tonight.
The second her hands drop, I calmly stand and turn to face her. And then I take a page out of Zade’s handbook of being a psychopath, grab her by the neck, whip her around and slam her against the vanity. Bottles of perfume and makeup brushes topple to the floor, and I hear a gasp from one of the girls behind me.
Surprise widens her dark eyes as I come nose-to-nose with her.
“Keep pushing my buttons, Sydney. If you perceived me as weak, then you’re going to get quite the fucking reality check. I put up with your shit this long because I’m sympathetic that Mommy and Daddy don’t love you, nor does Francesca. But I will not be bullied by you and continue to stay quiet.”
She seethes at me, and her true face appears from behind that fragile, porcelain mask. The room is well lit, yet as her anger amplifies, it seems as if she pulls the shadows from the corners of the walls and shrouds them over her face. Her chin is dipped as she glares at me, but I’m not fucking scared of her.
I’ve faced far worse than her already. All it does is reignite that thrill that I’ve been missing for so long. My adrenaline is rushing, and this—this I could get off on.
“You’re a pest, Sydney.”
“And you’re going to die,” she murmurs. I laugh in her face.
“Then I’ll take you down with me, bitch.”
I shove her deeper into the vanity, pushing off her and causing a few more things to knock over.
When I turn my back to her, deliberately letting her know I’m not afraid, I find Gloria staring at me with wide eyes beneath her big glasses while Jillian gets dressed in the corner, minding her own business.
I make it two steps before Francesca’s loud footsteps bound up the steps and into our room with a smile on her face. Sydney times it just right, creating a fake coughing fit the moment she heard Francesca coming.