The Revenge by Tijan

DREW BONHAM FOUND DEAD

Wednesday morning, the body of Drew Bonham was discovered. Early findings suggest he died of a drug overdose. Bonham was charged, then took a plea for his part in the kidnapping of Bailey Hayes, Peter Francis’s daughter. Bonham was released on home probation, and was scheduled to testify for the prosecution against Quinn Callas, the former Quinn Francis.

Sources say Drew Bonham had a history of being abusive and controlling of Quinn Callas.

—Inside Daily Press





THIRTY-THREE

Bailey


I was in front of the mirror.

Dark pink dress on, halter straps that wrapped around and tied behind my neck. I was wearing simple ballet flats, a muted silver color. My makeup was bare. My hair was up in a twisting French braid. A matching silver clutch in my hand, and I knew Torie and Tamara would’ve been proud.

Torie and Tamara.

A hollow ache dug into the middle of my chest and remained.

I hadn’t talked to either of them in so long—too long, now that I was thinking about it. I missed them. I’d been at school, but it was different. Hoda was there, and I couldn’t trust Hoda. Melissa was there, but she was such good friends with Torie and Tamara. I pulled away from them. I still had some study time with some of my classmates, mostly Melissa, but it wasn’t the same. I did what I needed to do. My classes. I talked with my professors. I attended my meetings with Ms. Wells. And my internship, I hadn’t even started. That got pushed off because of Chrissy’s death.

I needed to start my internship, but looking at myself now, the desperation for work, for school, wasn’t there anymore. I would still do it. I would still love it. But it wasn’t the only me anymore. It did not define me anymore.

I didn’t recognize who I was looking at. I used to be tank tops and jeans. Sweatshirts and jeans. Nothing dressy. Nothing flashy. Now the dress I was wearing was from a designer that sent me clothes. There was a whole closet of them. All items sent to the daughter of Peter Francis, and I knew the deal. They wanted me to wear it to get their name out there. I got it. I understood it, but this wasn’t me.

Or it wasn’t me back then.

I placed my hand on my stomach and realized how much weight I’d lost. Jesus.

It was time. I felt something shift in me, something old reaching up, connecting with something new in me. They were intertwining.

I was no longer the outcast I felt like this summer. I was no longer the novice in this new high-society world. Whatever I was, I was me. Just me. But I felt rooted. I was no longer just a Hayes. I was a Francis. I was half of Kash, too.

Kash.

I sucked in another breath and felt the emotions sweep through me, but these were good.

I did not lose Chrissy, because he loved me.

The universe would not take away someone if I dared to love more than one person. I would not give up Kash.

I had not given Chrissy up.

Calhoun Bastian took her from me.

He alone was to blame.

My fight was to love, and to know that I could love. I would not lose those that I loved because I loved them. I felt tears in my eyes and I swallowed a knot. I blinked back those tears and I raised my chin. I stared at myself in the mirror. Defiant. But more.

I was more.

I would be more.

Knock, knock.

The door opened. Kash looked inside. “Can I—” He stopped.

One look and I was back there, in his villa. Torie and Tamara in the background. My mom there, too. He came to get me before Peter’s welcoming party. He had the same look in his eyes, but there was more now.

I stepped back as Kash came in. He came right to me.

We didn’t talk.

I don’t think we needed to.

He reached for me at the same time I was stepping into him. His hand came up around my neck, the other around my back, and he pulled me to him. I burrowed into his chest. He cradled my head and I felt his cheek resting on top of my head. He smoothed his other hand down my arm, and he lifted. His lips grazed my forehead, and he whispered, “You are so beautiful.”

I couldn’t talk. My throat was clogged up, but I hugged him back hard.

The hardest I could.

“God.” Another whisper from him. “I love you. If anything, I hope you know just how much.”

I did.

I do.

“I know,” he said. “Are you ready? Do you want to stay?”

“I’m good. And I want to go. A night out will be fun. I think we’ve earned that.”

His eyes darkened. “Definitely.” His head cocked to the side. “You haven’t seen your friends for a while. Are you sure you want myself and the guys there? We can do something else, or stay in the background? You can get your time with the girls.”

“I’m good. Things have been different since my mom…” I still have a hard time saying it aloud. “You know, being with family has been more important to me. Besides, the friend group has sorta dispersed.”

“If you want me to make myself scarce, give me a sign. I can always work.”

“Sign? What kind of sign?”

He shook his head. “You decide.” His mouth twitched up. “Any word you want to use.”

“Raccoon.”

His head moved back. “Raccoon?”

“Yes. Raccoon.” I gave him a look. “Do you not know how obsessed I am about those animals? Have you looked at my Instagram? Do you know how many raccoon Instagram accounts there are? They are little, furry, adorable, curious creatures who are quiet but hilarious and I cannot take how freaking adorable they are. One rolls down the hallways. Rolls. Down. The. Hallway. And don’t get me started on the YouTube videos of them, where they pick up snow to take and eat, and it melts by the time they put it down and they look for it. Freaking. Hilarious.”