Empire High Betrayal(78)

“I think he likes you too,” I said. “He said you looked amazing tonight.”

She laughed. “He did, didn’t he?”

“Sweetheart,” Mrs. Caldwell said as she walked over to me. “Here, you should take my towel.” She started to undress.

What is she doing? I tried to protest, but I was relieved to see that Mrs. Caldwell was wearing a very chic strapless dress underneath her bath towel. Because of course she was. Mrs. Caldwell was always prepared for everything. Meanwhile, I had rolled around in dog blood. I swallowed hard. I wrapped the towel around myself and tried not to think about the fact that I now looked a hell of a lot like the woman that got knifed to death in the shower in Psycho. Definitely more than Mrs. Caldwell had earlier.

The police officer walked over to us. “Miss Pruitt is sticking to her story that you were the one that killed the dog, Miss Pruitt.” He scratched the side of his head as he stared down at his notes. “I hate Halloween.”

“So you think I murdered my half-sister’s adorable puppy and then rolled around in his blood for fun? And then wrote, ‘You’re next,’ on the wall in his blood? Why would I do that?”

He looked down at his notepad. “According to her…because you hate her.”

Yeah, I freaking do hate her. But I’m not a dog killer! “She’s been out to get me ever since she found out we were related.”

The officer just stared at me. “That’s exactly what she said about you.”

“This is ridiculous,” Matt said. “My brother saw Isabella go into my room…”

“No, he saw someone dressed as Sandy go into your room,” the officer said. “And no one else saw a thing. And we don’t have enough evidence to make an arrest.”

It looked like Matt was about to punch him in the face. And the last thing I needed right now was for Matt to wind up in prison. I grabbed his hand. He slowly unclenched his fist.

“Princess!” my dad said as he came rushing into the foyer.

“Dad!” I said.

And at the exact same time, Isabella called, “Daddy!” But she could choke on her words, because my dad came rushing over to me.

“Are you alright?” He grabbed both sides of my face.

I nodded. But just him being here and taking care of me made tears come to my eyes all over again. I glanced at Isabella out of the corner of my eye. The expression on her face was priceless. It looked like her head was about to explode. But I wasn’t having a competition with her over who our dad loved most. I was trying to get her freaking locked up before she killed me.

“What happened?” my dad asked, his hands settling on my shoulders.

I hadn’t realized how my story might sound to my dad. Me going into Matt’s room? Lying on his bed? But I didn’t care what he thought right now. I just needed him to know what Isabella had done. “Isabella murdered Sir Wilfred on Matt’s bed. She dressed like me so she could get away with sneaking into his room. There was blood everywhere. And she wrote, ‘You’re next,’ on the wall in Sir Wilfred’s blood. She’s telling the cops that I did it. But I swear I didn’t. I would never hurt an animal. I would never do something like that.”

My dad looked shocked. And hopefully it was about the Sir Wilfred thing and not the fact that it was pretty clear I was sleeping in Matt’s bed.

He turned to the closest cop. “I can handle this from here,” he said.

“But, sir…”

“I said I’ll take care of it.” My dad snapped his fingers and then pointed to the front door.

And the cops…left. They just turned around and walked out of the house. Oh God. It was true. He was a mobster. And he had the police in the palm of his hand. For just a second I was scared of him too. But then he grabbed Isabella by her bicep and pulled her over to me.

“Apologize to your sister. Now,” he added.

“But, Daddy, I didn’t…”

“We both know that you did. Now if the next words out of your mouth aren’t, ‘I’m sorry, dear sister,’ you’ll be spending the rest of your senior year abroad.”

“But, Daddy!”

“Do it. Or else.”

Isabella locked eyes with me. “I’m sorry, dear sissy.” She said it with so much venom, she might as well have said, “You’re next, fuck face.”

My dad snapped his fingers again. Donnelley grabbed Isabella and pulled her toward the front door.

“Daddy!” she screamed.

My dad cringed and then straightened his tie as he walked over to Mr. and Mrs. Caldwell. “I’m so sorry about your party, Max,” he said, extending his hand to Mr. Caldwell.

I looked over at Matt’s father. He’d abandoned his fake knife that was pretty much the only way anyone would know he was the crazy guy from Psycho. His arms were folded across his chest. And he did not look pleased. He looked like he had the first night he met me. Like he couldn’t believe a Pruitt was standing in his house.

“You’re sorry?” Mr. Caldwell said, not shaking my dad’s outstretched hand. “Isabella killed a dog on my son’s bed and then wrote…”

Mrs. Caldwell grabbed his arm and cleared her throat.

Mr. Caldwell took a deep breath. “What I meant to say is, perhaps Isabella should no longer be allowed on our property.”