Page 52 of Stolen Voices


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The world around me crashes, and I fall back a step. It was her. She’s why Mom had that set back. I look up to find Silla gloating.

“No.” I whisper, my body shaking. My anger is long gone, replaced with utter terror.

How?

“That’s right. Now you’re getting it. I’m in charge. The judge agreed, and you have no say. If you’re not careful, I’ll move your mother out of Malibu and someplace you’ll never find her.”

I watch, stunned, as Silla marches to the door, triumphant in yet another win in her column.

She turns, giving me one last scathing look. “Don’t test me, Callie. You do as I say. Stay away from Eli and keep your fucking legs closed. We can’t have people thinking America’s princess is a whore, now, can we?” With one final blow, Silla walks out and slams the door, the sound reverberating off the walls.

A flood of emotions hits me like a round on the Teacups at Disneyland, and I rush to the bathroom, sick to my stomach. I fall to my knees, puking up my dinner, as I relive my fight with Silla.

I went from floating on air after sharing dinner with Eli to this. Maybe I am pathetic?

Hell no. Silla can’t win,my brain screams at me, reminding me I’ve come too far to give up now.

When my stomach finishes emptying its contents, I wipe my mouth with a scrap of toilet paper and flush the toilet. I catch myself in the mirror as I turn on the faucet to wash my hands. I’m a freaking train wreck. My mascara is smeared, and I look like I’ve aged a hundred years. The blood from the scratch on my cheek has mixed with my tears and streaked down the side of my face, making it look like I’ve been in a bloody battle.

In a way, I have.

Placing my hands on the sink, I lean over and drop my head.What the fuck just happened?

Silla has always been cruel, but slapping me is next level, even for her. The smug look she gave me when she admitted to paying Mom a visit pops into my head. I can only imagine what vitriol she spewed to make Mom feel scared. Helpless.

My anger reappears, and I grip onto that feeling with everything I’ve got. I will not let her hurt my mom. Silla can treat me anyway she wants, but she knows better than to go after my mom. What the hell is she playing at?

A million possibilities flit through my head, making me angrier.

Fuck this.

Either way, I’m done waiting for the clock to count down. It’s time for me to take action. If this is how Silla wants to play it, then I’ll ruin her any way I can.

Even if it means ruining myself in the process.

Revenge is the only thing on my mind as I open the medicine cabinet and grab the face wash. I scrub my face clean before reapplying a new layer of make-up, going heavy on the smokey, purple eyeshadow and drawing a dramatic cat eye with the black eyeliner. I finish the look with a dark-purple lipstick before marching into my closet.

Stripping down to only my undies, I stand in front of the sea of dresses I’ve never worn, searching for one in particular. I rip the lavender bejeweled mini dress off the hanger. I slide the silky material up my body, push my arms through the thin straps, and zip it up.

I grab the crystal-encrusted stilettos and slip them on. For the second time tonight, my eyes catch the woman in the mirror. Instead of seeing the broken, hopeless girl staring back at me, I see a strong, confident woman.

A woman determined to break things instead of being broken.

A woman ready to fuck shit up.

fourteen

Eli

TheredtaillightsofCallie’s car glare back at me as she drives off. I hate the thought of her going home alone, and hate myself more for wishing she was going home with me instead.

I walk up the hill to my car parked on the curb and slide behind the wheel. Callie’s sugary floral scent lingers in the air. I take a deep breath, tasting the sweetness on my tongue with every inhale. My dick hardens as I wonder if her pussy tastes as sweet as she smells.

Fuck.

For the millionth time, I wonder why the fuck it has to be Callie I crave. Why every cell in my body yearns for her. Her smiles, her warmth, her sunshine.

All. Of. Her.