Chapter Twenty-Two

Bitsy

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

I stomped through the living room of my mother’s house and into the kitchen, slamming the newspaper down on the table in front of Roman. He looked up at me with sleep-blurry eyes and I realized that he was barely conscious. I let out a frustrated growl and slapped my hand against the newspaper again to wake him up and get his attention.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I could ask you the same fucking question. What is this shit?”

He looked down at the newspaper and then back up at me with confusion in his eyes.

“It’s the stories,” he said. “We talked about them.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “We talked about the idea of doing them. We talked about how you were going to rewrite some of Nia’s stuff and then we were going to put it into the newspaper.”

“Yeah,” Roman said. “That’s what I did.”

“Without even letting me read them?” I shouted. “You didn’t even give me a chance to know when they were going to come out so that I could be prepared. I had to steal the newspaper before Granddaddy could get his hands on it. He’s going to be pissed when he doesn’t have anything to read with his pipe this morning, but I really don’t think that this is the way that he should find out about the haunt.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about that.”

“Apparently not. You should just be glad that Whiskey Hollow Day is over. That’s the only time of year when he leaves the house or talks to anybody but me, so at least there’s still a chance that he won’t find out about all of this until I’m ready to tell him.”

“Well, now that the stories are out, we should be getting responses soon and we’ll be able to really finalize the idea for the haunt. Then we can tell Benson all about it.”

“Oh! And don’t even get me started on these stories of yours.”

I was so angry I could feel myself shaking and the heat from outside seemed to be radiating off of me.

“What do you mean?” Roman asked. “What’s wrong with them?”

“What’s wrong with them?” I asked, my voice getting higher and louder the longer we spoke. “You’re seriously asking me what’s wrong with them? They are the most disgusting things I have ever read in my entire life. They are entirely too gruesome, and if you didn’t notice, both of them involve women getting murdered and dismembered. I’m sorry, let me correct that. Teenage girls. They both involve teenage girls getting murdered and dismembered. What the fuck is all that about? Do you have some sort of sick fantasy about young girls getting tortured? Is that why you were so attracted to me? Because I’m small and young and was wearing a mask?”

Roman suddenly stood up, his chiseled face stony with anger.

“That’s enough,” he said sternly. “I don’t know where you get off talking about me like that and suggesting those things about me, but you are going to get over it, and you are going to get over it fast. I was attracted to you at that party because you looked hot as fuck in that tiny little dress and those heels, and yes, the mask, but not because of some twisted little girl fetish. If that was the case I wouldn’t be here right now trying to save your ass. I already had a piece of it, remember? Whether you like it or not, these stories are the kinds of things that haunts are based on. That’s the point of them. They are supposed to be horrible. They are supposed to be grotesque. They are supposed to scare people and push them to the limits of their minds and their emotions. That’s what these stories will do.”

“You’re trying to steamroll me,” I said. “You’re trying to take control of everything. You published those stories without even consulting me, you brought in crews without even telling me. Now they’re out there clearing corn and building things, and I don’t even know what’s going on.”

“These haunts can take months to build. Some take years. We have a matter of weeks. We don’t have any time to waste. I’m paying those crews to get the basic structure of the attraction up so that we can fill it in with the theme when that’s ready.”

“What am I supposed to tell Granddaddy if he asks what’s going on out there?” I asked.

I was seeing another side of Roman now, a side that I had always suspected was there, but didn’t want to accept it. The unavoidable arrogance and sense of superiority that came along with his exorbitant wealth and power was evident now and I was sickened by it. I could feel myself bucking against it, wanting to resist it, if only so that he would know what it was like for someone to say no to him.

“I’m sure that you can avoid the question. You seemed to do pretty well at not telling him that I’m Lorelei’s father.”

My jaw tightened and I felt my teeth gritting against each other.

“That’s different,” I growled.

“How?” he asked. “How is either one more or less the truth?”

“How dare you?”

I stalked back through the house and out, feeling tears searing my eyes and burning my cheeks. What Roman said had cut through me and my heart ached. It reminded me of Gregory and I remembered the advice that Nia had given me about not letting him control me any longer because I was worth more. She couldn’t have imagined that that very advice would drive me into her cousin’s arms, or give me the strength to walk away from him even though, despite the anger that I was feeling and the fact that I liked him far less now than I had, I still felt crushed and disappointed as I closed the door behind me and returned to my house.