Chapter Thirty - Rory
“You,” Frank purrs into my ear as we go back into the house after the group photo, “look beautiful. I cannot wait for tonight.”
“Me too,” I say, meaning it. “Me too, Frank.”
“Are you feeling better now?” he asks.
“Much,” I say, holding in my incredulous laugh. I always get over the death of my best friend in twenty-four hours. “I’m glad we had that talk this morning. But where’s Mia?”
“Inside already. With Jeremy. She wanted to go first tonight. Look, there she is.”
And yes indeed, when we enter the main dining hall, we’re among the last there. Mia is up front with Kallie, laughing like these people didn’t kill Tera Middleton last night. Pretty fucking happy. And that happiness isn’t fake.
She set me up, I realize. To get me here? Well, joke’s on her. Because there was no fucking way in hell I wasn’t showing up here tonight.
“Are we having dinner?” I ask Frank, looking round at the empty room, save for the people.
“Nah.” Frank laughs. “We’re just here to seal the deal, Princess.”
And something about the way he says the word ‘princess’ makes my stomach turn.
“But we have snacks. Don’t worry. Would you like me to get you some champagne for our group toast?” he asks.
“Sure,” I say, still off guard about that princess remark. What if they have Five? What if that was Frank’s way of showing his hand? Of letting me know that all our plans are for nothing? And that by the end of the night, I’ll be married to him, no matter how much I protest?
“Rory?” Frank asks.
“Huh?” I look up from my thoughts. Frank is holding a glass of champagne and a waiter is patiently standing next to him, offering me his tray. There’s only one crystal flute of champagne on it.
“We’re going to toast,” he says, nodding his head at the front of the hall, where Kallie, Edward, Mia, Jeremy, and the mysterious blonde woman are all tapping their glasses with small silver spoons to get our attention.
“Right,” I say, taking my glass and holding it close.
Did I make a mistake coming here?
“Please raise your glasses,” the blonde woman says, beginning her toast to us, the newest members of the Silver Society.
I space out after that, still thinking about Five. I cut a hole in my dress and sewed up a hidden pocket so I could keep my phone close. And I want nothing more right now than to escape to the bathroom and text him. I need reassurance. I need to know he’s standing by, just like we planned over the summer. That he didn’t get caught. That all the people plotting against him didn’t finally get their wish and kill him to take over his grandfather’s Triad.
“Cheers!” everyone yells.
“Cheers, Rory,” Frank says, bringing his glass to touch mine. They make the most perfect sweet note as they tink together.
“Cheers,” I say. “To our future.” I take a drink of my champagne and watch Frank smile at me. Like I’m doing right.
That’s when it hits me. And I look at the glass in abject horror.
I just fucking drank something… and it wasn’t champagne.
My face contorts and I throw the glass down on the floor.
“Rory?” Frank asks. “Are you OK?”
But I’m getting sick as he talks. Whatever was in that drink, it has an immediate effect on my stomach. “I feel sick,” I say.
“Come on,” he says, taking my elbow and pulling me through the crowd. “Watch out,” he says to the people crowding around us. “Move back, Rory’s not feeling well.”
“I’m gonna puke,” I say. And it’s true. I’m about to—
I puke all over the shiny, polished floor.
People gasp and then they do get the fuck out of the way.
Frank takes me into the women’s bathroom and pushes me into a stall. I drop to my knees and hurl again. And again. And again. “What the hell is wrong with me?” I manage between episodes.
“Well,” Frank says. I look over my shoulder and watch him as he considers his words. How he’s got his arms crossed over his chest. The relaxed way he’s leaning against the sink. The smirk on his face. “You had to learn who’s boss eventually, Aurora. So I figured we might as well get that out of the way right now. Before you go and fuck everything up.”
“You… you did this me?” I ask. “You poisoned me?”
“Why not?” he asks. “I did, after all, kill Tera last night. And you know what?”
I’m gonna get him back for this. I repeat it over and over in my head.
“It’s all your fault she’s dead. Your disappearance over the summer. Your distance. That’s what triggered her into being paranoid.”
My hand goes inside my dress and flicks my phone screen to life. I took the lock off. There’s no way punching in a code to activate your phone is a good idea when timing is everything. I know where that little icon is, because I rearranged the icons on purpose, just in case.
“What are you doing?” Franks asks. I’m still looking at him as I press the Love Notes icon.
“Calling for backup.” I laugh. And then I puke again. Frank gets my phone, smashes it on the hard tile of the bathroom floor, and then pulls me to my feet as I’m wiping my mouth.
“He won’t save you, Aurora—”
But I’m already on my feet, my shoes kicked off, and my bare foot hits him smack in the balls. He doubles over, clutching at his groin. I grab his hair with both hands, swallow down the next episode of vomit that so desperately wants to come up, and bring his face down on my knee.
His nose and mouth spurt blood, all over my pretty dress that is already ruined from leaning over the toilet.
I do it again, and again, and again, until he falls off to the side, moaning in pain. Curled up in a fetal position like the weak fuck that he is.
“That’s for killing my friend,” I say. And then I spit on him. “And I warned you, asshole. My name is Rory.”
A slow clap erupts behind me.
I whirl and find the blonde woman smiling at me. “Well done, Aurora. Well done.”
“Who the fuck are you?” I seethe.
“Doesn’t matter,” she says, snapping her fingers. A big man—and I’m talking big man—appears behind her. “Take her downstairs. She’s going first.”