Chapter 41

Chapter Forty-One

Landon

Listen to Look What You Made Me Do

by Taylor Swift

I began to lose my shit.

Adam wouldn’t answer. I called and left messages. I left texts. All I got was radio silence.

I reminded myself he was busy getting ready to leave. He’d listen to my apologies and hear I kicked Max out and forgive me. He’d call once he got settled and we’d put this mess behind us. I was just being paranoid and needed to calm down.

The problem? My gut instinct was screaming danger and that the more time I let pass built another wall between us. I kept replaying our conversation, remembering the flat tone to his voice; the weary acceptance that he used when he was battling demons and had nowhere to turn. His safe place was supposed to me, but in his perspective, I’d refused to believe him.

Adam had spent his entire life not being chosen. He’d needed that from me and I’d not only rejected him, but then invited Max over to laugh in his face. No, it hadn’t been my intention, but did it even matter? The outcome was still the same.

I had to do something.

Lydia called out in a sharp voice. “Time for the voting. Gather in the living room, please.”

Whispered conversations flew around me, like it had all afternoon. Groups formed, then dissipated, and everyone was suspicious. Tension built and cranked everyone to the highest level of stress. It was like a storm gathering, ready to explode. The cameras ate it all up with greed.

I didn’t care. I tried to get involved in the discussions on who should go and why, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Adam and my real life, away from this farmhouse of hell.

Brody grabbed my arm and pulled me into the hall. “Get your head out of your ass,” he hissed. “We’re gonna vote but if you keep looking like you couldn’t give a shit, you’ll be out next week. Then all of this will be for nothing.”

I shook off his hand and glared. “I got it, okay? We decided on Amy. Brenna and I finally made nice with the bitch pack to make it an easy night. Everyone knows it’s too soon to get anyone big out.”

“Fine. But I think next week we go hard for Abby since she’s Ronnie’s sidekick. You better bring it during the ceremony and not act like a damn robot like you have all day.”

I shot him a glare and walked out, joining the others in the main room. I imagined my phone ringing and not able to answer it since we weren’t allowed to have phones while shooting. Imagined Adam questioning our relationship while I embroil myself in this fake drama that had become my life.

Corinne spoke first, her tone smug. “I think it’s obvious who’s not pulling their weight around here.” She sent me a blistering look and I automatically rolled my eyes. “Landon’s been more worried about her outfit than really helping us turn this farm around.”

Brody looked surprised. So did the cameraman. Interesting. Was she trying to rally up a coup and throw me out early? My respect went up a notch even though I still despised her. I examined my cherry red manicure and fell into my role. “Funny, Corinne, but I’ve caught you throwing yourself at Brody and Patrick so many times, maybe you think this was the Bachelor?”

The group tittered. Brody’s shoulders relaxed. God knows, I excelled at the Queen Bitch role. Too bad I didn’t like it anymore.

Ronnie jumped on board. “You’re the one causing issues, playing Clayton and Brody against each other. If you’re gonna be a whore all the time on camera, maybe you can do it privately and not ruin a working man trying to save his job.”

“She’s not a whore!” Clayton defended. “You’re just pissed because Landon is liked more than you.”

Discomfort itched through me. I tried to ignore it. “I was only teaching Clayton how to kiss. Would you like a class too, Ronnie? I heard you got dumped right before you got here. OUCH.”

Brenna cracked up. And then the petty arguing and name calling began.

I sat through all of it, watching myself from a distance, and wondered if this was the fame I’d imagined for myself. Maybe, at first. But now? What if I asked or demanded more? What if I reached for something outside of my comfort zone? What if I refused to play this type of game and set new rules for myself, on my terms?

Amy let out her usual whine. “I heard my name being tossed around and I think that’s so wrong. I’m the only one who makes dinner and cleans the bathroom. I do more chores than anyone.”

Brody propped his feet on the cheap scarred coffee table, looking bored and hot. “Corinne, I thought we discussed what’s best for the house already. Why are you trying to change your vote? Are you making side deals?”

Her skin turned hot. “I have no deals, Brody. Not like you—who promised to go to the final with every one of you!”

“Not true,” Brody drawled. “Don’t be jealous, darling. Landon’s a smoke show, but you’re the one who’s slowly stealin’ my heart.”

I almost gagged at his fake country accent and the way she simpered like an idiot at his obvious fake words. Clayton gave me a sympathetic look, with a gleam of real emotion, and I wondered again if he was getting caught up in the game and catching feelings that had no place here. He was young, and sweet, and did what he was told for the camera. What if this whole thing was building up so I was forced to break Clayton’s heart? What if that entire spin was being kept secret but they were filming to sacrifice me to the online Gods of algorithms? I’d be the biggest villain and bring in huge ratings. Clayton would capture the hearts of America.

I’d be fucked.

Since there was no host, the clock they’d brought in chimed three times which signaled it was time to vote.

One by one, we each had to go outside to the back and write the names on these giant fake eggs with black sharpie. I took my turn, writing down Amy’s name automatically, then looked at the camera to give her a goodbye message. I said something snarky and rolled the egg into the coop.

When I returned, I took my seat, glancing at the clock.

Adam’s flight was late tonight. He was probably meeting the guys early so they could all drive to the airport together.

And I was here. Stuck in a reality show of my own choice.

The box magically appeared on the table. A fake voice called out: “Brody, will you please read the votes out loud?”

Brody stood up and opened the lid to reach for an egg.

“The first vote is for Amy.”

Amy’s face scrunched up in anger and embarrassment.

I thought of the first time I kissed Adam and how my entire body had lit from the inside out.

I thought of the way he commanded me in bed and held me tight afterward, healing my brokenness with a gentle heart.

I thought of the way he’d shared his story about his Dad and Josie and let me see all of the shattered pieces.

I thought of the way he’d said goodbye over the phone.

I thought of the way I loved him.

Like a firestorm, my entire body shook, and I almost choked on the rush of emotion flowing through me in choppy waves.

God help me, I didn’t want to be here. I wanted to be with Adam. I wanted to be at his side in LA while he made his music and I let myself be that other person I’d refused to let loose. The person who loved to write and create; who wasn’t ruled by social media stats or tv cameras or false fame. I wanted to see who I was stripped of it all, away from everything but Adam.

I wanted to blow it all up and watch everything burn.

Brody read another vote. “Amy.”

“This is ridiculous! Why are you doing this to me?” Amy whined.

I lurched up on shaky legs. “Stop. I have to say something!”

Everyone’s gaze focused on me. Some with satisfaction; some with greed to hear my next words.

“No one has to be voted out tonight,” I said.

A groan echoed from the room. “We’re required to vote out one person at every ceremony,” Abby said primly, pushing her glasses up her nose.

“I know. But Amy’s not the one leaving tonight.”

“Then who is?” Corinne sneered. “You want to volunteer?”

A smile curved my lips and lit up my heart. “Yes. I nominate myself to be voted out tonight. I’m going home.”

There were a few seconds of complete stunned silence.

Then everything exploded.