Prince Player(152)

I’m so disgusted with myself and with my parents. They know I’m not interested in him, and I should give in to that sort of thing. I’m not just livestock that they can marry off like that, a pawn in their little political game. My heart is hammering as I ride the elevator up to our apartment.

I storm inside, intending just to hide out in my room until I’m calmer, but a voice stops me short.

“Sadie,” my father calls out from the dining room. “Come in here, please.”

I pause for a second then tentatively head into the room. He’s sitting at the head of the table, reading a complicated document, with a glass of brandy at his elbow. He peers at me over his glasses, a small smile on his face.

“How was the date, dear?” he asks.

I want to yell at him. I want to really lay into him and tell him the truth. I want him to know how all of this makes me feel like less of a person and that he’s doing this to me.

But something stops me short. Sitting on the table next to his brandy is my cellphone.

I could yell at him right now. I’m angry enough to do it. But if I give in to that impulse, I’ll never get my phone back.

And my phone represents my freedom. That’s how I can get in touch with Gavin again. If I really want to see him again, I need to play the game and be smart about this.

“It was nice,” I say, although it practically kills me to do it.

Father doesn’t notice my anger or my discomfort, of course. “Very good,” he says, nodding. “I knew you’d get along well with Milo. He comes from good people, very good people, you’ll be happy with him.”

I want to puke. “I agree,” I say to him.

That clearly makes him happy. He smiles big. “Well. Good. Since you feel that way, I think maybe you should have your phone back. So that you can communicate with Milo.” He picks up my phone and holds it out for me.

I take it from him. I feel dirty doing it, but I don’t care. “Thank you,” I say and I give him a smile.

“Good. Now run along. I’m proud of you.”

I turn and leave the dining room as fast as I can. I hate having to do that, pretend that I’m one thing when I’m really something else, but I know that I have to. If I want to talk to Gavin, I need my phone.

I hurry to my room, shut the door, and lock it. I head into my closet, crawl into my nook, and power my phone on.

There are a few messages from Gavin, which isn’t surprising. My heart fluttering, I type out a text.

“Meet me tomorrow?” I hit send.

The wait feels like years though it’s probably only a few minutes.

“Of course,” he says. “When and where?”

“Ten,” I type back. “Same place as last time.”

“See you then.”

I smile and put my phone down, staring at the wall.

I’m going against the direct wishes of my family, but I don’t care. I want this man and I want to have someone in my life who actually gives a crap about me. I don’t want to get shackled to a man like Milo and end up alone and miserable for my whole life.

Gavin represents freedom for me, but there’s always another basic truth that I can’t deny. I want him badly. I want him so badly that it makes my whole body feel weak. I smile to myself, picturing the gifts he might send me next, and try to figure out how I’m going to sneak out to see him.





9





Gavin





I half expect her not to be there. I don’t know why, but part of me thinks that this is some trick that fucker Silas is trying to play.

I can’t resist it, though. I can’t miss an opportunity to see her like this. Maybe it’s not smart to go on this date with her, maybe I should just stay home and pretend like none of this happened, but I can’t help myself.

I want Sadie, and I’m going to fucking have her. Tillman can send as many goons as he wants, but I’m not backing down.

I’m nervous when the car pulls up, but there she is, standing under a streetlight and smiling. She’s wearing a long tan jacket, like something out of a spy movie. Her hair is pulled up in a messy bun and she looks absolutely beautiful.

I open the door and step out. “I’m glad you came,” I say.

“Why wouldn’t I?” she asks.

I shake my head. “No reason.”

She smiles a little uncertainly. “Well, where are we going tonight?”

“You seemed to like our first date, so I thought I’d bring you back there. To that neighborhood, at least.”

She smiles as she climbs into the car. I close the door, go around to the other side, and get in. The driver pulls out.

“I like seeing where you grew up,” she says.

“Good, because you’re about to get a lot of that.”