Twisted Lies by Nora Cobb
Chapter 33
Astrid
I don’t know what I think about Elliot Howland. If he was telling me the truth, then why did he tell my mother to abort me? Why set up a trust fund for a kid you don’t want? Why did Mom even tell me that he said that? The whole time I sat there, eating dinner in his show-off mansion, I thought about it.
And I’m still thinking about it now. I can’t fall asleep, thinking about the things my parents told me. Roni is fast asleep in her bed, so I don’t have to hide the fact that I’m lying here crying in mine.
Howland told me I’d get my trust when I turn twenty-one. I should’ve asked how much, but I didn’t. Maybe I didn’t because Howland expected me to. His scheming eyes studied my every move. And he looked surprised that I sat upright at the table and ate with utensils and not with my hands. Deep down inside, I know Howland is up to something. But what? I don’t have anything he can’t buy from someone else. Not even DNA.
I get up quietly and go into the bathroom to cool down my forehead at the sink. The water feels comforting even though it’s freezing cold on my flushed face. Cupping my hands, I swallow it down, soothing my raw throat. I have a plan and have to follow it through, or I’ll always be a puppet for these men to play with. There’s no going back to Weymouth—the home I had there has vanished. But twenty-one is three years away. I can’t wait around while they use me up.
I switch off the bathroom light and lie back down in my bed. The sheets feel cooler as I close my eyes. Astrid Bowen had to worry over every dollar that kept her and her mother off the street. But when I wake up, that girl will be gone. When I wake up, Astrid Howland will start her day by paying it all back in full.
***
I haven’t had a decent workout for days, and cross-country continues through the start of December. It’s only early November. Today, I understand why Gillian trains in the freezing cold and the rain. Inside the warm gym, we stretch on the mats with our team before heading outside. On purpose, I keep my back to the doorway as I reach for my toes, so I can’t see who’s going upstairs to the private gym. My mind is trying to trip me up, but I make myself focus on my stretches as I lean into them. Bobby looks up from his hamstring stretch and frowns at someone standing behind me. I hope it’s not Wyatt. Wyatt is the only one that could screw with my resolve to get even.
“You need help?” asks Bobby, standing to face the person I can’t see.
“Not from you,” replies Justin, “I need to talk to Astrid.”
The air leaves my lungs in an exaggerated sigh as I come out of a deep stretch. It’s a cover to hide my relief—Justin, I can handle without even trying. I stand up straight and face him, placing my hands on my hips. My stone-cold expression is a weak façade when I look into his soft brown eyes. Thinking about all the ways I’m going to use Justin is easy when he’s not staring me in the face. Seeing him in the flesh makes my stomach flip-flop.
Justin stands confidently in his school uniform, not caring that street shoes are forbidden on the polished gym floor. “It will only take a minute,” he smiles.
I look guiltily at Gillian, as if I owe her an explanation. I don’t, but I owe myself one as I follow Justin obediently. He matches my cold gaze while we stand by the front doors, out of view of the main gym. Justin steps into my personal space, but I don’t back away as my breathing picks up. He’s the only boy who apologized after what happened in the bathroom and the only one willing to teach me what to do to win.
No, I have to stay mean. Justin is still one of them—entitled and demanding. I take a quick step back, out of his reach. “Why’d you want me?” I ask.
“So abrupt.” He tilts a brow. “Still so wild. The girl I like taming.”
“Justin, I have practice,” I say, hardening my gaze, “I have responsibilities to the team, so get on with it.”
“You do have responsibilities,” he replies, “and you’re neglecting the one you owe me.”
A chill washes over my skin as my brain races to recall if I ever promised him anything. Maybe that night at the Pit, when he was between my thighs, I blurted something out while he made me feel so good. But I hope not. I hope I wasn’t that stupid.
He smirks, no doubt at the expression on my face. “You promised to pose, and I’m here to collect. Stop by my studio when you’re through training.”
“It will be a while,” I tell him firmly, “I have to clean up first and change.”
Justin steps close until I can sense his heat without touching his body, and I swear he’s about to kiss me, but he doesn’t. “I like it when you’re sweaty and hot,” he whispers next to my ear. “I like the taste of your skin when it’s wet. Don’t waste time cleaning up. Just come as you are.”
Smiling, Justin takes a step back, and I stare out the glass doors as he disappears. Just thinking about what Justin did to me that night makes me want to chase after him and tackle him to the ground. I should’ve picked him. Justin gets off on the real me, and every time he’s sweet to me, it makes me like him a little more.
“Astrid.” Gillian bumps my arm as she walks past me. “Time to work off that frustration by running the trail,” she whispers loudly, and there are a few laughs. That’s how we bust each other’s balls on the team. I smile and follow the rest of them out the main doors.
“Tease me like that, and you’ll eat my dust on the trail,” I tease Gillian as we pace side by side.
She laughs. “Please, girl, juggling those men is slowing you down.”
