Where Good Girls Go To Die (Good Girls #1)



Four years earlier



To say I was struggling would be an understatement. I was failing. As in my classes, college life, my life, I was failing all of it.

My roommate was the spawn of Satan. I guess that might be a little harsh, but when you share a space that could barely be considered a broom closet with a girl who gets angry if you even touch one of her pencils, it gets a little rough.

She didn’t talk to me, and I didn’t talk to her. Actually, I didn’t really talk to anyone.

When I finally got to Georgia, faking my brave face in front of my brother became harder and harder. By the time he left me completely unpacked and organized in my tiny dorm, all I could do was lie in my twin size bed and cry.

I actually spent the first few days doing nothing other than that.

Chloe, my roommate, did ask me if I was dying on day three, but I was sure that was because she didn’t want a dead body in her room, not because she gave a shit.

After that, I got up and tried my hardest to concentrate on my classes, but every time I saw a couple laughing together or kissing, I had this irrational urge to go up to them and punch them both. It made me think about Parker and Madison.

Was he happy with her? Did he whisper into her ear while he made love to her? Did he ever think about me?

As soon as the thoughts ran through my head, the anger and the sadness would swarm me, and even attempting to pay attention to my professors was a lost cause.

I wasn’t sure what I had done wrong. In actuality, I wasn’t sure what the hell happened at all. I was Parker’s best friend’s little sister. He didn’t seem that stupid, but it appeared that I didn’t know him nearly as well as I thought.

There were moments when I considered running home and demanding that he tell me why. Demanding that he look me in the face and tell me that everything that happened between us was a lie, but the overwhelming fear that he would, crippled me.

I had been in Georgia for two months when my brother called me to tell me the news. I felt devastated for Parker, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel some sort of relief. When Mason said the words miscarriage, my first thought was to run to him.

It didn’t matter that he had hurt me. He was hurt, and I needed to get to him. I needed to do something.

But as soon as I had my keys in my hand, I remembered that he didn’t want me. He had her.

“How is he?” I asked Mason.

“He seems okay. I mean he’s upset, but he’s also relieved. You know?”

“Yeah.” I sat down on my bed and ran my hand over my comforter.

“I’m just glad he’s not stuck with Madison forever. That girl would have sucked the life out of him.” My brother chuckled.

“Well that’s who he chose.” He chose her over me. I wanted to tell my brother that, but I couldn’t.

“Not anymore,” he laughed. “He’s out on a date with some blonde we met last night.”

I sucked in a deep breath. “He’s already dating someone else?” The noose that seemed to be constantly around my heart pulled tighter.

“I wouldn’t exactly call it dating. You know what they say about the best way to get over one girl is to get under another.”

My brother didn’t have a clue how his words would affect me, but as I closed my eyes, all I could see was him with someone else. I imagined how he would touch her. I imagined all the shit he was making her believe.

And in that moment, I knew that I would never forgive Parker James.





P A R K E R





Present



I didn’t know what I was thinking.

I was getting married.

Last weekend was, I couldn’t say it was a mistake because nothing with Livy was ever a mistake, but it was a complete and utter cluster fuck.

After Livy disappeared into her hotel room that night, she kept her distance from me. She was friendly, in a way that made me feel like she felt sorry for me, but she was guarded.

She barely spoke to me all week at work. She nodded her head at me when I walked in the room, and she was fake friendly to me in front of my clients.

I needed a moment alone with her. I needed to talk to her. To see what was going on in that head of hers, but Emily made sure that I had absolutely no free time on my hands. We were having a pre-wedding celebration at the shop, whatever the fuck that meant, and Emily was in true bridezilla mode.

I had never seen anyone get so upset over appetizers or decorations, and with every word that came out of her mouth, I felt myself moving further away from her inch by inch.

By the time the party finally arrived, I was stressed out, confused as fuck, and in desperate need for a drink.

But even the whiskey couldn’t wash down the taste of Livy.

Guilt flooded me whenever I was with Emily. I wanted to tell her the truth. I did, but selfishly, I was scared. What if I chose Livy, but she didn’t choose me? I knew she was furious with me. It would take an idiot not to see that, but deep down, I knew that fire came from somewhere deeper than hate. What if she ran again? The last time she left, I was a complete fucking wreck.

I partied, I slept with more women than I should have, and every part of me ached with memories of her.

I couldn’t be that guy again.

I refused to.

So instead of telling Emily that although I loved her, I was still insanely in love with Livy, I stood in my shop and sipped whiskey as if it would somehow be the answer to my problems.

Emily was in the corner talking to a group of her girlfriends, and as I watched them, I took in how vastly different we were. They were all a flourish of pastels and manners. My friends and I? We were on the complete other side of the spectrum. We looked as dark as the ink that marked our skin. Instead of glasses of champagne, I looked around at my friends and their hard liquor and beers.

Instead of the polite smiles that hid judgment of others, I watched Livy as she belly laughed at something Brandon was telling her. She didn’t care who was watching. She didn’t care how she looked, and there was something about it that made her the most beautiful thing in the room.

I made my way over to them subconsciously, but Livy quit laughing as soon as she spotted me.

“What’s so funny?” I asked.

“Inside joke,” Livy replied instantly, and I watched my best friend try to conceal his smile.

A tiny hand made its way across my chest and a moment later, Emily stood at my side. She lifted her chin to me, and I made the mistake of glancing at Livy right before my lips pressed against my fiancée’s. She looked completely gutted, and it made me feel like the biggest piece of shit in the world to know that I was hurting her and Emily.

“So Emily…” Livy’s face no longer had a trace of hurt on it. She was smiling as she looked at Emily. “Do you have any tattoos?”

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