DECEIT (B723) by Hazel Grace (ebook reader for surface pro .TXT) 📕

the group of teenage girls in high school who used to make fun of me because I didn’t have a date for junior prom. How there must’ve been something awry with me.

I was a Varsity Cheerleader, and not one pimply-faced asshole had the courage to step up and ask me to be their date.

There wasn’t anything wrong with me.

I just hated them all. And I made no means to hide it either. I might be a noisy bitch, but I’m not a fake one.

I couldn’t wait to disassociate myself with everyone in that school, my mother, my brothers, and this whole fucking rich town of pricks.

The only person I’ve ever missed was Dad.

“I’m just happy you’re home,” she offers, giving her blonde hair a gentle push for volume in her reflection. “I’ll see you downstairs.”

She leaves me to myself, softly closing the door behind me and letting it click shut.

It’s my birthday today and this is the last place I want to spend it, wallowing in my condo all day would have been better than this.

Standing from the same vanity that I used to use as a teen, I make my way downstairs and pluck a flute of champagne from a waitress before I take two steps on the main floor.

I plan on getting buzzed tonight.

I intend to forget Bishop’s words and how he can say them but not explain why.

I need the why before the what.

I fucking need to know how he feels about me before I turn into a shrew because I can’t seem to fully get over him. Not even with Alexander trying. He only takes the edge off.

“There she is, little sister.” The taunting tone immediately tenses my shoulders and has me slowly turning my head to find my brother, Adler, striding my way with a glass of dark liquid and a shit-eating grin on his face.

I don’t respond to his greeting—I can’t.

All I can remember is that day I came home from cheerleading practice and what I found waiting for me there.

“Happy Birthday.” He wraps his free arm around my shoulders, and I give him two seconds before I’m shrugging him off me.

“Thanks,” I mutter.

“Mom got you to come, huh?”

“Yep.” I down the rest of the bubbly champagne and move for another when Adler reaches out to stop me.

“Hold on, let me get the low down. What’s been new with you? You’re like a stranger to me these days.”

“Work, sleeping, and work,” I drone, studying the vast crowd of people in our parent’s living room and patio out back.

“What are you like forty now?”

I scoff through my nose, but a prissy little smile forms off my face. “Pretty damn close. You still fucking high school twats, or did you grow up a little bit since the last time I saw you?”

Adler releases a deep chuckle as if I’m joking, but then again, he did like older women didn’t he? The whole younger woman thing was just a ploy, a cover-up from what he really used to do after school.

“Not sure why you’re pissed at me, Ems, but chill. I’m not going to start an argument on your special day.”

I slant my focus back to him, resenting how similar we look and how we’re actually related while being so different.

His light blonde hair that’s perfectly styled to the side, mild brown eyes, and the faint sprinkle of freckles along his cheeks.

“Then piss off,” I voice with steel in my tone. “I’m not gonna chill when I know what you fucking did.”

He has the audacity to lift a brow at me, playing stupid as if I’d imagined things. “And what was that?”

“You don’t want to get into that with me, Al.” He cringes at the nickname, always hating it for as long as I can remember. His face begins to scrunch up in a disgusting expression.

“Right—“ He huffs then redirects his gaze onto something else that isn’t me. “—well, have a great fucking night. I’m sure we’ll be stuck somewhere together soon enough.”

“You better hope we aren’t.”

Adler narrows his eyes at me. “You don’t know what you saw.”

“No?” The smell of the room mixed with different colognes and perfumes makes my stomach twist. That along with my brother’s body less than three feet from mine.

“No,” he replies flatly.

“Then I guess my walking in on you fucking mom on the kitchen island was my imagination then.”

He steps closer, causing my chin to rise. My older brother, by two years, looks like he wants to strangle me, except he doesn’t have the stomach for brute force.

I do.

“Again,” he repeats with venom in his tone. “You don’t know what you saw. So shut the fuck up, Emmy.”

“Does Daddy know?” Adler’s hand shoots out to grab my forearm, but when he does, I turn the tables and flip my limb to dig my nails into his. “Touch me again, you sick prick, and I’ll spill your little secret all over town. The only reason why I didn’t before is because I didn’t want to hurt Dad.”

“Release me,” he orders sternly. “You don’t have the stomach for it.” My smile widens, and I let him go, allowing my threat to simmer as he strides away.

Unfortunately, he also leaves his familiar and expensive aftershave lingering.

“Well, he sounds like a douchebag, Lou Boo.” Only one person in this entire universe calls me that, and he just made this whole night manageable.

Turning around, Mills stands behind me with a glass of clear liquid and looking handsome as shit in a white dress shirt that’s unbuttoned at the top and folded up his forearms. His black slacks and shoes make him look like he just threw it on, but Mills appears like a GQ model that any one of these bitches would eat up.

His grayish blue eyes follow my brother, watching him as if looking to make sure he doesn’t come back before returning to me, where I receive an award-winning smile.

“Happy Birthday, Ems.” I close the space between us and wrap my arms around him in