Page 103 of Bombshell

“You’re upsetting Zeus,” she says, rubbing behind his ears.

Actually, he hasn’t left her side since we arrived. I pause to consider this and realize I’m being a selfish bitch. “Oh my god. I’m sorry. I’m stuck in my own head, and after what happened earlier…”

“That’s not your fault,” she says. “I’m the stupid girl who convinced myself he loved me back.”

“Loving someone is never stupid.” I lower onto the couch beside her, pushing Zeus to the ground, so I can hold her.

“It feels stupid,” she says with a sob, “in hindsight.”

I’m not sure what to say to her. I know from experience that empty platitudes like there’s plenty of fish in the sea and everything happens for a reason is like pouring rubbing alcohol on a gaping wound. It hurts and it’s unlikely to help.

“Look Cyrus is a dick, I should have told you that sooner,” I admit.

“He hit on you, didn’t he?” she asks.

“He was drunk. It didn’t mean anything,” I say.

“Don’t make excuses for him,” she says, wiping her eyes. “Everyone makes excuses for him, even me. No more.”

“Something tells me, he’s not going to get off so easily this time,” I say.

“I just...he made that sex tape of you. I keep thinking I’m going to throw up.” She reaches up and locks her hand over mine.

That’s a sentiment we share, and I’m more than a little put out that Sterling didn’t warn me about what he’d discovered.

“He deserves whatever he gets,” she says fiercely.

“They usually do,” Sutton says, coming through the front door and tossing keys on the counter.

“Sutton!” I jump up. “Are you okay? Did—”

She cuts me off with a withering glare. “Don’t pretend to care.”

I start to tell her that I do care, but I don’t have the energy. Instead, I shrug.

“So, what did he do?” Sutton drops onto the floor, crossing her legs under her.

“You don’t want to know,” I say when Poppy’s lower lip trembles.

“You were way too hot for him anyway,” Sutton says matter-of-factly.

This actually manages to perk her up. “Thank you.” Poppy gathers herself a little, sitting up straight like she’s determined to be sociable. “You’re going to school in New York, right? What are you studying?”

“I haven’t decided.” Sutton flashes me a blinding grin. “But I’m looking into transferring to Valmont in August.”

“Oh, I can help you with that! I know everyone in admissions.” Poppy begins peppering her with questions, momentarily distracted by a mission to help someone.

I’m trying to see this as a positive and not obsess over how much she hates me when the door flies open to reveal Luca and Jack, laughing and joking, holding Sterling up.

“See? They’re fine,” Poppy says from the living room.

“You call this fine?”

I back up enough for Luca and Jack to help an unsteady Sterling through the door. His face is a mess. The cut over his eyebrow is slowly leaking blood into the corner of his eye, forcing him to keep it squeezed shut. Another cut on his cheek has fully clotted, but it’s still a nasty gash.

Sterling shuffles into the room, brushing off Luca and Jack—it’s obvious he wants to look like he’s in better shape than he is. He flashes me a wolfish grin. “I’m fine, Lucky. Never better.”

“Did Nikolai do this?”