Page 9 of Misguided

So I stand, wondering if this is how life will feel from here on out. I’m supposed to be dead. In theory, there’s no place for me in this world any longer. Am I always going to wake up wondering what the purpose of the day will be? While I was in hiding, I understood the feeling of pointlessness. After all, there’s not much you can do when you’re literally unable to show your face to another living person besides those who know where you are, which for me, was one man.

A trusted third party hired by the club to put me into hiding, and then promptly “forget” the address.

Days went by the same as the one before, and each and every night as the sun would sink behind the trees I’d lie there on the grass, watching the stars come out, dreaming of a life back with my club.

This wasn’t exactly how I pictured it.

I mean, I didn’t expect a fanfare, a huge welcome home party or anything. But I guess I thought I’d fall back into my role as the president’s daughter. Except my brother is now the president, and when I ask him why Daddy didn’t come to get me, he changes the subject.

A niggle I’ve been trying to ignore.

A question I’ll demand answers for when we arrive in Lincoln at the Fallen Aces mother chapter.

Right now, I just need to focus on the task of getting there with a guy who’s making it clear by the daggers he fires my way he’s pissed I friend-zoned him. Yay.

Let the fun begin.