I look back to see Savannah linking arms with her friend and tossing a shot back. The liquid is clear, and it could be water for all I know, but it sure looks like she's taking a shot. She tosses her curls back with a tittering laugh before climbing into the pen herself.
My brows raise so high I'm pretty sure they meet my hairline.
“She's not,” I whisper.
“Oh, she is,” Oakley says vindictively as she records. “Savannah Ward, poor pregnant girl, shooting liquor and riding bulls at the rodeo.”
Savannah climbs onto the mechanical bull and gets settled without a care in the world, her friend shouting drunken encouragement. She doesn't last long up there before she gets thrown, but she's not moving like someone who’s three months pregnant.
Or like someone who’s sober.
Oakley films the whole thing.
She stops the recording as Savannah clambers out of the Ring, and we immediately hunch over her phone. The recording is a little shaky, but Savannah’s inebriation is still obvious.
“I have to show this to Bo,” Oakley says. “And to Mom and Dad.”
Hope swells in my chest at the thought—this may be enough to convince them all that she really is lying. There's no other proof I can offer, but I know deep in my gut that something’s off.
Before we can begin scheming, a familiar, whiny voice cuts through my excitement.
“Well, well, if it isn't the Montgomery princess and my baby daddy’s side piece,” Savannah drawls, her sneer obvious in her voice.
I flinch at what Savannah calls me, but turn to face her with my head held high anyway. Oakley's by my side, and we have video evidence that's going to blow her bullshit out of the water. I won't let her bully me.
“Savannah!” Oakley exclaims, forcing brightness into her voice. “We were just talking about how much we didn't want to see your ugly fucking face!”
She smiles widely at Savannah’s pinched expression, and I muffle my laughter into a fake cough. Oakley’s always been good at putting people in their place.
“Guess I shouldn't be surprised that all of you are the avoidant type.” Savannah rolls her eyes at us disdainfully. I can smell the beer on her breath. Fucking bitch. “You should really tell your brother to stop ignoring me. We have houses to look at for after the baby is born, and I'm not building the nursery myself. It didn't really go so well the last time he ignored me, y'know? I had to resort to talking to y’all’s parents myself, and that was just… pitiful.”
Fury reaches a boiling point in my gut halfway through her tirade, but Oakley grabs my wrist before I can smack Savannah clean across her lying mouth. She steps forward, her smile as sugar sweet as her voice, and stares straight down at Savannah.
“Oh, he's ignoring you because he wants nothing to do with you. Y’know, just like everyone else in your life?” she asks gently, the barbs on her words cutting deep even if Savannah tries to hide her flinch. “I'm glad you can see when your actions are pathetic, though. The first step to getting help for a problem like that is admitting that you need it.”
Savannah glares right back at Oakley, but she somehow looks much less terrifying. She can't hold a candle to Oakley’s brains, and she just looks like a scared little girl grasping at straws now.
Her friend calls her name, and relief flickers in Savannah’s blue eyes. She steps back from Oakley with a scoff and turns back toward her friend.
“We’ll just see how ignoring me goes for him. Ciao for now, losers,” she says, wiggling her pink painted nails over her shoulder in a wave. “Can't wait to be part of the family.”
Chapter Nineteen
BO
Papers lay scatteredacross the kitchen table.
Once again, my parents sit at one end, the Wards sit at the other, and I sit as far away from the table as I can without getting yelled at for it.
Today's special brand of torture is house hunting. I've been ignoring the listings Savannah texts me, but it looks like she got tired of waiting again. She and her parents showed up right before lunch with a binder full of listings and a bad fucking attitude.
My attitude probably isn't helping much, but whatever. I've lost the trust of my entire family and any chance at being with the only woman I've ever loved because of this. Forgive me if I'm not in the mood to debate square footage.
My parents are pissed off enough at having the Wards darkening our doorstep, and Dad is taking it out on me. I probably deserve it.
“Have you even looked at any of these?” he asks, gesturing angrily toward the stacks of papers. “I raised you better than to run away from your responsibilities, Boden.”
I keep my mouth shut in a desperate bid to stop myself from screaming nonsense. All I can think about is how furious I am. If I start talking, it's not going to go well.
