Page 102 of Filthy Rich Boys (Rich Boys Of Burberry Prep 1)
“What are you talking about?” I ask, my voice so low it's practically a whisper. Zack meets my gaze as pain and regret shoots through his. He looks like he's about to throw up. “Zack?”
Zack grits his teeth and exhales, closing his eyes against a wave of emotion.
“Go on, tell her,” Creed says, leaning his elbow lazily on the table and resting his chin in his palm. “Tell her what you did. At least give her the chance to know the real you.” He shrugs his shoulders like he doesn’t care much either way. “If she still wants to hang out with you, then good on her. She's a more forgiving person than I am.”
“Marnie,” Zack says, reaching up to take my hand. I let him hold it, let him weave his fingers through mine and marvel at how good it feels. I like Zack. I really do, despite all the things he put me through. “There's something I need to tell you.”
When has that line ever lead to something good? Without a doubt, I know that whatever Zack's going to tell me, I'm not going to like it.
My eyes dart from him to Tristan and then to Creed as Zayd’s arms tighten around my waist, and he pulls me closer. It feels good, having him touch me like that. I use that as an anchor against the anxiety churning in my stomach.
“Marnye,” Zack begins again, closing his eyes. “I'm just gonna come out and say it. It's better if I tell you than they do.” He lifts his eyes again and looks right at me. “You know how I treated you in middle school, we don't have to relive that; we both know how horrible it was.” He glances away and then turns back to me again, but it looks like it's taking him a concentrated effort to hold my eyes. “Did you ever wonder why I did it?”
I can't say anything. My throat is too tight, my pulse is beating too fast, and I feel like I’m going to be sick.
“I made a bet.” Zack exhales sharply and then grits his teeth together. The way he looks at Creed, Zayd, and Tristan makes me think that he’d kill them if he could. When he looks back at me, his expression is much softer. “To get into the Infinity Club, I had to make a bet. The group wanted to taste blood, and they …”
“The girls were the real masterminds behind this one,” Creed says, but he doesn't sound happy about it. He's wearing a deep frown that looks etched into his face. When he lifts his blue eyes to mine, he looks apologetic. “Because he’d been cut off from his trust fund, they really wanted him to prove himself to the group. They bet him he couldn't make somebody kill themselves.”
My heart literally stops. I can't breathe. The room seems to tilt and spin on an axis.
Lizzie opens the sliding door and walks in, pausing when she notices Tristan. She seems to sense the tension in the room, and her shoulders tighten.
“What's going on here?” she asks, looking from me to Tristan to Zack and back again.
“Oh,” Tristan says, folding his arms over his chest, his drink still clutched in a tight fist. “We were just telling Marnye about that bet you made with Zack.” Tristan's face tightens up as he stares Lizzie down, and I have to wonder if he's doing this as much for revenge against her as he is to get rid of Zack. Maybe he's doing it for me, too, so I can finally know the truth, but it's hard to see it that way.
Lizzie’s amber gaze slides over to me, and her mouth opens but nothing comes out.
“We were much younger then,” Zack whispers, rising to his feet. His voice is pleading, begging me to look at him. I do, but when our eyes meet, all I feel is sick. “Marnye, what I did was wrong. It was … it was fucked. It was Lord of the Flies type shit.” He grits his teeth and glances away sharply. “Hanging around with this club, with these people … they’re fucking snakes.”
“Oh please,” Zayd snarls, squeezing me even closer. “Don't act like we had anything to do with this. The three of us weren't even around when you originally made this bet.”
“No,” Zack snarls, taking a step forward. Tristan moves between us, like he thinks he might need to protect us from him. “You might not have been here for that bet, but you've been around for worse. This is not out of line with something you’d do.”
“Just tell Marnye you used her to get into the Club, and that you only saved her because Lizzie changed her mind and said that was enough.” Creed stands up from his side of the table, his face lit with the same determination I saw when he attacked Derrick Barr over Miranda. Only this time, he's fighting for me. I'm not sure whether to be happy about it … or, no … I'm too sick to be happy.
