Burning Daylight: Chapter 46

The VU Founders’ Gala is the event of the year—every year—in Rosebrook Falls.

The who’s who from all over Connecticut and beyond make an appearance, spending ungodly amounts of money for a table and then even more money on the silent auction. I’d love to think they do it for the charity portion, and I used to be naive enough to think so when I was younger and still believed in everything Calloway, but now I know it’s mainly to show off their wealth and get a nice tax write-off. A proverbial pat on the back so everyone can go home and sleep at night with no guilt over the wealth disparity that lines the streets of this country.

It’s also one of the only times I can guarantee that my entire family will be all at the same place, at least for a few hours.

I feel a presence at my side and glance over to Felicity sliding into the chair next to me, her gown glittering like a blood-red chandelier. She looks both stunning and annoyed, which is par for the course when it comes to her and events like this.

“Please tell me I’m allowed to openly mock the people here,” she mutters.

“Haven’t you been doing that since we walked in?”

“Well, you know me, I hate to break character.” She leans closer, lowering her voice to a whisper. “Paxton’s little wife looks like she bought out the entire bridal section of a department store and rolled herself in glitter just for fun.”

I snort, my eyes flicking to where Tiffany sits next to Paxton right across from us. “She can probably hear you.”

“Good,” she says, taking a sip of champagne.

Paxton’s glaring at us, his jaw tight and his fingers tapping an irregular beat against his napkin on the table. His gaze flicks to Felicity, then immediately away.

Alex plops down next to Paxton with a dramatic sigh. “God, these things are the worst. Who do I have to fake charm to get out of here?”

“Let me know when you figure it out,” Felicity replies.

Alex glances across the room, to where Lance is standing with Tyler and Art. “If Lance would actually pretend he likes us, maybe he could help.”

I scoff. “Tough luck. He hasn’t even said hi tonight.”

“Want me to go kick his ass?” Felicity offers.

“Actually, since you’re both here,” I pipe in, pointing to Alex and her. “Are you dating Alex, Felicity?”

She widens her eyes and then kicks my foot under the table.

“What? I deserve to know if you’re sneaking behind my back.”

“We’ve been over this a thousand times. I’m not dating him.”

“Yet,” he interjects.

“Ever,” she snaps back with narrowed eyes.

And then come my parents, my mother looking like the belle of the ball, my father stiff and polished on her arm. They glide effortlessly into their seats, which lets me know dinner is about to be served.

“Isn’t tonight just magical?” my mother croons in a sickly-sweet voice.

“Nothing says magic like tax evasion for a good cause,” Felicity says with a raise of her glass.

Paxton chuckles under his breath, and Felicity’s eyes cut to him before turning back to her champagne.

My mother tenses at her comment, but recovers fast, which is not surprising. She’s always had a gift for pretending not to hear things she doesn’t like.

My father clears his throat, and Paxton straightens before looking at Felicity. “Let’s try to be gracious tonight.”

“Oh, I’m incredibly gracious. Just not delusional.”

I smirk and hide it behind my hand.

Tiffany shoots Felicity a look like she wants to stab her with a fork, but Paxton doesn’t miss a beat.

He lifts his drink. “You know, for someone who wasn’t even invited, you sure have a lot of opinions.”

“I was invited,” she says, sweet as syrup. “By someone who likes having me around. I’m not surprised you have no experience with what that feels like.”

Paxton quirks a brow. “Tell me, Flick, you practice being such a bitch in the mirror, or does it come naturally?”

Flick. I haven’t heard him use that nickname for her in years. He started calling her that back when she was a kid, because she’d always flick everything. Her hair, his forehead.

From the way Felicity startles when he says it, she hasn’t heard it in a while, either.

She grins. “I don’t need to practice making you feel small. That part’s effortless.”

Paxton’s gaze narrows but he doesn’t reply. He just starts tapping his napkin again with that same jittery rhythm, like his bones are trying to crawl out of his skin.

Tiffany leans into him, running her hand down his arm, and he rips his eyes away and turns to his wife.

Dinner is served on silver platters by servers in crisp black vests, and everyone falls into their polite, empty chatter. The kind we’ve rehearsed since we were kids. Compliments. Fundraising buzzwords. Laughter at jokes no one actually thinks are funny.

I chew my steak slowly, thinking of how quiet Roman had looked standing in the back of the ballroom. How haunted. How distant.

Anxiety wrings my stomach tight. Has something changed? Is he just playing the part?

My mother’s voice cuts through the fog. “Juliette, have you spoken to Preston tonight?”

My fork stills against the edge of the plate. “Unfortunately.”

“Maybe you can take a walk with him in the promenade later after the meal,” she replies, dabbing at the corner of her mouth with a napkin.

I stare at her.

And something inside of me breaks. I’m tired of being told where to stand, what to wear, who to smile at. Tired of being a passive part in whatever world she’s carved out for me.

“I’m not going on a walk with Preston,” I say, setting down my fork.

She quirks a brow, fire flashing in her gaze. “And why not?”

“Because I don’t want to.”

Alex chokes on his drink.

Paxton stops mid-chew.

“Don’t be childish, Juliette.” My mother laughs like this is all a joke. “You’ve known each other forever. It would do you good to be seen together again. People talk.”

“I don’t care if people talk,” I say through gritted teeth. “I’m not interested in being part of some curated fairy tale for them to gossip about over dessert.”

Across the table, my father clears his throat again. A warning.

But I’m already past the edge. And honestly, fuck him, too. He’s not a good man, and he’s never cared enough about me to actually be an active participant in my life.

“I’m not marrying Preston,” I continue, my voice growing sharper. “I’m not going to help you with your little fundraising events. And I’m not going to keep pretending I want a life I never asked for.”

The silence is instant. All that polite chatter at our table dies at once.

My mother looks at me like I’ve slapped her.

“So what, then, do you plan to do?” she hisses out.

I swallow around the panic climbing in my throat and I fist my hands, pretending they don’t tremble.

“I’m going to write.”

My mother blinks. “Write what?”

I shrug, the urge to curl in on myself under her gaze strong. But then I look over to Paxton, and he gives me a small smile and a nod. My spine straightens.

“Books. Stories. Things that make people feel something real.”

She laughs, like she thinks I’m joking.

“I’ve spent my whole life being loyal to this family,” I continue, my voice rising. “I’ve done everything you asked of me. Smiled when I wanted to scream. Performed like it was second nature. But I’m done twisting myself into whatever shape you need to be proud of me.”

My father doesn’t say a word. My mother opens her mouth, but nothing comes out.

Paxton sets his silverware down carefully. “She’s right.”

My mother stiffens. “Pardon?”

He leans back in his chair, arms folded across his chest in that calm, calculated way that makes him the perfect protégé for my father. “You can control a lot of things, Mother, but I won’t let you control her anymore.”

“Paxton,” Dad cuts in.

“No,” Paxton says. “She’s done performing. I won’t have her life, her light, stolen because you two can’t put your family over your bottom line.”

The silence drops like a stone.

And I stare at him with my heart stalled out. He’s never stood up to them for me. Not once. And now he’s doing it like it costs him nothing, even though I know that’s not the case.

My mother recovers, but just barely. “You’re defending her throwing away her future? Her name?”

“I’m defending her choosing something that actually belongs to her,” he replies.

His voice isn’t loud. But it’s firm. Unshakable.

“And if either of you have a problem with that, then you can deal with me.” His gaze cuts between them. “We all know what it would mean if I decided to stop sitting back and started taking charge.”

My mother’s lips turn white as she presses them together. My father’s cheeks turn red.

But no one argues.

Even Felicity is silent, her mouth open as she stares across the table at Paxton, who’s eating like he didn’t just threaten to push dad off the throne and take the crown.

It hits me then: the guilt.

Knowing I’m about to leave everything, even when he just put himself on the line.

I wonder if they’ll think of me once I’m gone, or if they’ll write me off like I was a bad habit they couldn’t wait to kick.

The thought spears through my body, causing a deep, throbbing ache.

I do my best not to look back at Roman, because the last thing I want to do is draw any more unnecessary attention when we’re about to do something as crazy as skip town. But it’s hard, knowing he’s only a few feet away. I give into the urge.

He’s talking to Merrick and Benjamin, but his eyes drop to mine the second I look at him, like he was waiting for them. It makes my fingertips tingle and my stomach flip with nerves, and it’s so stupid how both of our families are here playing nice, but the two of us are cursed to be forever apart because fate decided to make us who we are.

Except we’re about to take fate and tell it to fuck off.

I force my stare away, trying to not be suspicious, and as soon as I do, my gaze snags on another person.

Tyler is glaring at me like he knows all my secrets and wants to flay me alive for them. It makes dread trickle down my spine, and my fingers twist in my lap as I clear my throat and force myself to look away. With everything that’s been going on, I had forgotten that Frederick had shared my secret.

“Excuse me,” I say, pushing back from the table and catching Tyler’s eye. I haven’t spoken to him since Frederick stopped us and sloppily said Roman’s name in front of him, and I know it’s overdue. I can’t leave here without smoothing things over.

He’s always been one of my closest friends, and I can’t stand the thought of him thinking the worst of me. Even if I know he’ll hate me when he finds out I’m gone.

I walk out front until I’m in the night air and sit down at a bench in the VU courtyard. The red and brown bricks are what I choose to focus on until Tyler slips into the space next to me. His arm goes around the back of the bench, his legs sprawling out in front of him, a frown on his face and his eyes alert.

“Roman Montgomery won’t stop staring at you, you know? You two are fucking obvious, and it’s disgusting.”

My stomach twists, and I shrug, hoping it comes across as nonchalant. “I fail to see how that’s my problem.”

He gives me a knowing look. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

I shrug again. “A lot of people stare at me.”

He nods, gazing out over the space again. “Maybe I’ll tell Lance, then. He’d fuck him up so he couldn’t stare at anything again.”

“Even he’s not that overprotective.” I watch Tyler carefully and then ask, “Why do you hate him so much? You don’t even know him.”

“He’s a Montgomery.”

“He can’t help that any more than you can,” I say.

Tyler’s lips twist, and he crosses his arms with a grunt. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“And whose fault is that?” I snap. “Maybe if all of you dropped the brutish ‘I’m strong man, she’s weak woman’ act, you’d realize letting me know things is better than keeping me in the dark.”

He grunts, his jaw tensing.

I lean in, hopeful that maybe I’m getting through to him, just a little. Because if I can get through to Tyler, then maybe I can get through to everyone else, and I really will be able to come back here one day. “Tyler. It’s me. Be honest. Do you only hate them because my father tells you to?”

He slams his hand on the bench, the metal rattling beneath us. “I hate them because they’re responsible for my parents’ deaths.”

“Roman didn’t do that.”

He lets out a humorless laugh. “He’s the whole fucking reason it happened, Juliette. Take off those rose-colored glasses and look around. You want to know who the bad guys are? We’re it. Killing my parents was retaliation for your father trying to kill Roman and his sister.”

I rear back like he slapped me. “What are you talking about?”

He tilts his head, a pained smile crossing his face. “Don’t act surprised. I thought you wanted to know.”

“I don’t⁠—”

“I’m on the city council because your father gives us all kickbacks to vote accordingly. He funded Art’s father’s campaign because Mayor Penngrove makes sure the Calloways come out on top with building codes and property taxes. The judges have their wallets lined so they’ll look the other way when our land agents suddenly threaten a business owner within an inch of their life to give up their property.”

My brows furrow. “I know they do things that aren’t necessarily aboveboard, but Art’s dad wouldn’t…”

He laughs under his breath. “He’s in on it, Jules. All of them are. The police. The mayor. The governor. The criminal organizations you don’t even know exist because they don’t have to step foot in town to make people do their bidding.” He throws his hand out toward the building. “There are things going on underground, underneath these very buildings, that would make your skin crawl.”

My mind whirls. How could I not have known?

“Okay, fine.” I try to make my voice sound strong. “That doesn’t explain why you hate Roman; it sounds like we should hate ourselves. Hate his dad, hate everyone who has lived here. But he’s a victim of circumstance, Ty. Surely you can see that.”

Tyler lets out a sardonic laugh. “Roman Montgomery should have stayed dead.”

There’s fire in his gaze, and I know that no matter what I say, it won’t change a thing.

Tyler has had serious anger issues ever since he lost his family, and I grew up ignorant to the truth.

Civil blood stains civil hands.

I’m sick.

“My parents didn’t deserve to die. And for a long time, the only peace I had was knowing once Marcus was in the ground, it was over. I was this close to breathing again, Juliette. But now that piece of shit is here, and he’s got you twisted around his finger.”

I swallow, feeling ten inches tall from his glare. Tyler’s never looked at me like this before, like he’s seconds away from snapping and I’m seconds away from being dead to him.

“He’s taking another family member from me, and he doesn’t even have to try. It’s not fair.”

“It’s not like that.” I force the words out.

“Bullshit. He’s manipulating you the same way our families have played the game for generations. You’re just too innocent to see it.”

I shake my head, but his condescension is wearing thin, and I can feel the drip of anger bleeding through. “I’m not innocent, Tyler. I just want to make my own choices; I don’t want to be chained to a certain life because of my last name.”

He leans in to whisper in my ear. “Too bad, Jules. You’re caged just like Lance, only you’re too naive to see it.”

“No,” I say, my nostrils flaring.

He laughs, throwing up his hands. “Fine. Think whatever you want, but it is what it is. Don’t preach to me like you’re some minister of peace just because you’ve let Montgomery dick poison your vision.”

I swallow the hurtful words like sharp knives cutting through my insides. “Ty, I love him.”

He looks at me like I’ve stabbed him, betrayal shining in his gaze.

“You love him?” he says. “You’re playing right into their hands, Juliette.”

My chest spasms. “You don’t understand.”

But maybe he does, and that makes nausea surge through me like a tidal wave.

“I don’t need to.” He laughs and rubs a hand over his face like he can’t believe what’s happening. “I’m smart enough to recognize that not everything is black and white. That there’s nuance in every situation. But I promise you, Juliette. If you choose Roman Montgomery, then you’re dead to me.”

“Don’t say that.” I reach out and try to grip his arm, but he rips it away, scoffing, his eyes watering like even looking at me makes him sad.

“I’m telling your brothers. They need to know. He’s playing a mind game with you, Juliette. There are no innocents in Rosebrook Falls. You’re getting involved in something you don’t even know you’re about to be in the middle of.”

“What’s that mean?”

He shakes his head. “You’re fucking everything up, that’s what it means.”

“Ty.” My voice breaks.

He ignores me, standing up and walking away.

“Tyler!” I half yell.

A few random college students are hanging outside of the Sic et Non dormitory, and they turn toward me at the noise.

My chest aches, and I reach up to try and soothe the burn, but it’s no use.

I knew that choosing Roman would mean letting go of everyone else. I just hoped they’d understand why I was doing it.