by Erin Watt
Her lips twitch. “Wow. Anyone ever tell you you’re a terrible storyteller?”
I grimace. “It’s all I’ve got right now.”
“Fine, I won’t bug you about it anymore. Just know that I’m here to listen whenever you’re ready to talk.” She uncaps her water bottle. “So what are we doing tonight?”
“Aren’t you sick of me already?” I tease. After the disappointing meeting with Lucy, I went back to Val’s and we pigged out on cake and watched all three of the Step Up movies. Easton wandered off in the middle of the second one and didn’t come back.
“Hey, I’m in mourning.” She glumly sticks out her lower lip. “I need you to distract me so I don’t think about Tam. Halloween was our favorite holiday. We used to do couples costumes.”
“Aw. Did he text you again?” He messaged her three times last night, but Valerie had ignored them.
“Constantly. Now he’s talking about driving down so we can talk in person.” She looks stricken. “Broken hearts suck.”
Don’t I know it.
As if on cue, my phone sounds the text message alert. I wince when I see Reed’s name on the screen.
Don’t read it, I order myself.
Like an idiot, I read it.
Stop acting like u don’t give a damn about me. We both know u do.
I clench my teeth. Ugh. Arrogant ass.
Another message pops up: U missed me when u were gone. Same way I missed u. We’ll get thru this.
No, we won’t. I want to shout at him to stop texting me, but the one thing I know about Reed Royal—he’s a selfish jerk. He does what he wants, when he wants it.
And his next message is just a reminder of that.
Brooke was a mistake. Happened before we met. Will never happen again.
Just the sight of Brooke’s name has me curling my fist around my phone. Before I can stop myself, I type back a blunt message.
I’ll never forgive u for sleeping with her. Leave me alone.
“You know I’m still here, right?”
Val’s dry remark brings on a guilty flush. I quickly shove my phone in my bag and pick up my fork again. “Sorry. I was just telling Reed to screw off.”
She throws her head back and laughs. “God. I missed you, you know that?”
I laugh too, and for the first time all day, it’s actually genuine. “I missed you, too,” I tell her, and I mean it.
When the final bell chimes, I’m more than ready to get the hell out of here. My first day back was about as fun as being waterboarded. The mean laughter, the whispers, the sneers and nasty looks. I’m ready to lock myself in my bedroom, blast some music, and pretend that today never happened.
I don’t even bother going to my locker. I shoulder my bag, text Val that she should let me know if she’s coming over later, and hurry out to the parking lot.
Then I stop in my tracks, because Reed is leaning against the driver’s side of my car.
“What do you want now?” I snap.
I’m sick and tired of him getting in my face all the time. And I hate how good he looks right now. The weather is growing cooler, so his dark hair is windblown and his sharp cheekbones are flushed from the cold.
He pushes his big, muscular body off the car and marches toward me. “Sawyer said Jordan was harassing you earlier.”
“The only person who’s harassing me is you.” I give him an icy look. “Stop texting me. Stop talking to me. It’s over.”
He just shrugs. “If I really believed that, I’d back off. But I don’t.”
“I’ll block your number,” I warn.
“I’ll get a new phone.”
“I’ll change my number.”
He snorts. “You really think I won’t be able to get it?”
I hug my bag against my chest like a shield. “It’s over,” I repeat. A ball of pain lodges in my throat. “You cheated on me.”
“I never cheated on you,” he says hoarsely. “I haven’t touched Brooke in six months.”
He sounds so sincere. What if he’s telling the truth? What if—
Don’t be an idiot! an internal voice shouts. Ugh. Of course he’s not being sincere, and I should know better than to get sucked in by his earnest face and the tiny wobble in his voice. Growing up, I watched my mom fall for the wrong guys over and over again. They lied to her. Used her. And as much as I loved her, I hated how stupid she could be when it came to men. It would take her months, almost a year sometimes, to figure out that the lying jerk in her bed wasn’t worth her time, while I stood there on the sidelines and waited for her to come to her senses.
I refuse to be played like that.
“Go to hell, Reed,” I mutter. “I’m done with you.”
He moves even closer. “Yeah? So you’re telling me you don’t want me anymore?”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you.” I sidestep his approach and practically fling myself at the car. But my escape attempt backfires, because he swiftly turns around and backs me up against the door.
The heat of his body sears right through my clothes. My pulse speeds up as he plants both palms against the car, trapping me between his arms.
“You’re saying I don’t turn you on anymore?” He dips his head and his warm breath fans over my neck. When I give an involuntary shiver, he laughs softly. “Admit it, you miss me.”
I clamp my lips together.
Reed’s cheek brushes mine as he keeps whispering in my ear. “You miss the way I kiss you. You miss me sliding in bed with you at night. You miss the way it feels when I put my mouth right here—” He presses his lips against my neck, and I shiver again. That gets me another husky chuckle. “Yeah, I’m sure I don’t do anything for you at all, right, baby?”
“Don’t call me that.” I shove him angrily, ignoring the loud pounding of my heart. I hate the effect he has on me. “And leave me alone.”
A low voice sounds from behind us. “You heard her. Leave her alone.”
Easton stalks up to us and latches a steely hand on Reed’s shoulder. Despite being a year younger, Easton is as tall and ripped as his brother. It takes zero effort for him to yank Reed away from me.
“This is a private conversation,” Reed says, unfazed at being manhandled.
“Yeah?” Easton glances at me. “You in the mood to talk to our big bro, little sis?”
“Nope,” I answer with forced cheerfulness.
Easton grins. “There you go, Reed. Conversation’s over.” The mocking glint in his eyes dissolves, replaced by irritation. “Besides, Dad just texted. He wants all of us to come home ASAP. He and Brooke have some announcement to make.”
My gaze flies to Easton’s. “Brooke?”
With a harsh laugh, he turns to Reed. “What, you didn’t tell her?”
“Tell me what?” I demand. Why the hell is Brooke at the house?
Reed shoots his brother a stony look.
“Gee, I wonder why you didn’t mention it.” Easton shrugs at me. “Dad and Brooke got back together.”
My whole body runs cold. What? Why would Callum ever get back together with that witch?
And how can I possibly face her again after what I witnessed in Reed’s bedroom that night?
My legs feel wobbly and my hands begin to shake. I hope the boys don’t notice how hard I’m trembling, that they don’t see how shaken up I am by this news.
Going home is suddenly the last thing I want to do.
13
One by one, our cars pull into the grand, circular driveway of the Royal estate. My convertible. Easton’s pickup. Reed’s Range Rover, and the Rover the twins share. I remain in the car as I watch the Royal brothers slam doors and disappear through the side door of the mansion.
I can’t believe Brooke is in there. I can’t believe Reed “forgot” to mention it. In all the times he’s gotten in my face and mocked me about how he’s going to win me back and how I still want him, he couldn’t tell me that Brooke was back?
But of course he didn’t say any
thing. He thinks if he pretends he never touched Brooke, if he pretends she doesn’t exist, that maybe I’ll forget about her.
I won’t, though. Ella Harper doesn’t forget. Ever.
I take a deep breath and order myself to get out of the car. The internal command fails, because I stay put. It’s not until the side door swings open that I scramble out of the driver’s seat.
“Ella,” Brooke calls out, smiling from ear to ear.
I grab my backpack and round the car, trying to bulldoze past her, but she steps into my path. I’ve never wanted to punch anyone more than I want to punch this woman. She’s as blonde and fake as I remember, decked out in an expensive minidress, sky-high stilettos, and enough diamonds to fill a Tiffany shop.
“I have nothing to say to you,” I announce.
She laughs. “Oh, darling, you don’t mean that.”
“Yes, I do. Now get out of my way.”
“Not until we have a little girl chat,” she chirps. “I can’t have you going in there until we set a few things straight.”
Disbelief makes my eyebrows soar. “There’s nothing to set straight.” For some reason, I find myself lowering my voice, even though she and Reed deserve that I scream it from the rooftops. “You slept with Callum’s son.”
“Did I?” She titters again. “Because it seems that if I did, and that if someone in this house knew about it,” she gives me a pointed look, “then Callum would have learned about it by now.”
She’s got me there. And now I’m pissed at myself for keeping my mouth shut. One word to Callum, and Brooke would be history. He’d throw her out on her ass faster than you can say cheating shrew.
But…he’d throw Reed out, too. He might even disown him.
God, I’m sick. I’m screwed in the head. Why else would I care what happens to Reed Royal?
Brooke smiles knowingly. “Oh, you poor pathetic girl. You’re in love with him.”
I clench my teeth. She’s wrong. I don’t love him anymore. I don’t.
“I tried to warn you. I told you that the Royals would ruin you, but you didn’t listen.”
“And because of that, you punished me?” I say sarcastically.
“Punished you?” She blinks in what looks like genuine confusion. “What exactly do you think I did, sweetie?”
I gape at her. “You slept with Reed. I walked in on you two! Or have you conveniently forgotten that?”
Brooke waves a hand. “Oh, you mean the night you ran off? Sorry to disappoint you, but there was no…excitement…to be had that night.”
“Y-you were naked,” I stutter.
“I was proving a point.” She rolls her eyes at my bewildered expression. “Reed needed to learn a lesson.”
“That you’re a cheating liar?”
“No, that this is my house.” She gestures to the mansion behind us. “He doesn’t call the shots anymore. I do.” Brooke fingers a strand of her shiny golden hair before tucking it behind her ear. “I wanted to show him what happens when he gets out of line. I wanted him to recognize that I can destroy him without any effort. And see how easy it was? I take off my dress and poof! His relationship with you disappears. That, my darling, is called power.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. I don’t know what to believe anymore. Did Reed bargain for this with her? She’d lie and pretend she didn’t sleep with him in exchange for…what? Does it matter? They slept together at some point. And if he’s capable of betraying his own father like that, think of how easy it will be for him to betray me.
I can’t take that chance. I know what I saw in his bedroom. Brooke was naked. And he just sat there and said nothing. If I let Reed and Brooke plant these seeds of doubt, it’s only a matter of time before I do something stupid…like forgive him. And then he’ll hurt me again and I’ll have nobody to blame for it but myself.
“You slept with Callum’s son,” I repeat, letting my disgust for her show on my face. “Doesn’t matter if you didn’t hook up that night—you still cheated on him with his own son.”
She just smiles.
Nausea shoots up my throat. “You’re…” I trail off. Ugh. No insult in the world can do this woman justice.
“I’m what?” she mocks. “A tramp? A gold-digger? Any more slut-shaming you want to do? I don’t understand why we girls can’t stick together, but honestly, honey, your opinion of me doesn’t matter. This will be my home soon and I’ll be the one calling the shots. You should try to get on my good side.” She arches one brow.
I remind myself that I’ve run into Brooke’s kind a hundred times before. She’s a backroom bully. Sweet to all the people with money, snotty to the girls who can’t help her up the ladder, and downright evil to anyone who threatens her.
So I take courage in the fact that she finds me threatening, and direct an arched eyebrow right back. “Callum will never let you kick me out. And even if he did, I wouldn’t care. I already tried to run away from here, remember?”
“But you came back, didn’t you, darling?”
“Because he forced me to,” I mumble.
“No, because you wanted to. You can claim to hate the Royals all you want, sweetie, but the truth is, you want to be part of this family. Any family, really. Poor orphan Ella needs someone to love her.”
She’s wrong. I don’t need that. I was on my own for two years after Mom died. I can do it again. I’m fine being alone.
Right?
“A few gentle nudges and I guarantee Callum will come around to my way of thinking,” Brooke says. “It’s up to you which direction I nudge him in. Do you want to continue living the Royal lifestyle, or do you want to be shaking your ass for dollar bills again? You’re in charge of your own destiny.” She points a lacquered nail to an empty space next to her. “There’s still room for you over here.”
We both spin around at the sound of a car engine. Gideon’s SUV comes to an abrupt stop behind Easton’s truck. The eldest Royal brother hops out of the driver’s seat, takes one look at us, and asks, “What’s going on here?”
“Just welcoming Ella back into the fold,” Brooke answers, winking at me. “Come here and give me a kiss, darling.”
Gideon looks like he’d rather kiss a cactus, but he still trudges over and plants a cool peck on Brooke’s cheek. “What’s this all about?” he mutters. “I skipped my afternoon classes and drove three hours to get here, so it better be important.”
“Oh, it’s important.” Brooke gives us a cryptic smile. “Let’s go inside and your father and I will tell you all about it.”
Five minutes later, a grim-faced Callum ushers us into a room at the front of the house. His hand hovers protectively at the small of Brooke’s back. And Brooke? She looks smugger than a cat at a fish market.
The room is impeccably decorated in what I’ve termed as Southern Plantation chic. The walls are covered in heavy cream wallpaper. There are several inches of molding that adorn the ceiling. The room is big enough that there are two seating areas, one near the floor-to-ceiling windows that are draped in peach silk fabric, and one closer to the doors. Brooke takes a seat in one of the light green and peach chairs by the fireplace.
Above the mantle is a gorgeous painting of Maria Royal. There’s something horribly wrong about Brooke sitting in this room, in front of that painting. Something sacrilegious.
After pouring a glass of whisky, Callum positions himself behind Brooke, one hand on the top of her chair and one hand clutched around a tumbler nearly overflowing with liquor.
Gideon wanders to stand near the windows, hands in his pockets as he stares out at the front lawn. Easton and I start walking toward him, but Callum’s voice stops us.
“Sit down. You, too, Gideon.”
Gideon doesn’t move. He doesn’t even acknowledge that Callum has spoken. Reed takes one look at his dad and one look at Gideon and makes up his mind in an instant. He walks over to his brother and stands beside him.
The lines are clearly drawn.
I watch as Callu
m’s fingers curl into the back of the chair. His body sways toward his eldest sons, but he stays rooted in place at Brooke’s side. What hold does she have on him?
She can’t be that good in bed.
“Brooke—I mean, we—have an announcement.”
Easton and I exchange a wary look. The twins are on my other side, wearing identical frowns of suspicion.
“Brooke is having a baby.”
A collective whoosh greets that statement as we all inhale in shock.
When the last word leaves his mouth, Callum lifts the glass of liquor and drinks. And drinks. And drinks until the entire glass is empty.
Brooke looks happy, and her pleasure is awful.
Is it wrong to hit a pregnant woman? I fist my hands at my side in case someone, anyone, gives me the green light to vault over two sofas and a side table and whale on her until she cries for mercy. She’s killing this family, and I hate her for that as much as anything.
“What’s that got to do with us?” Easton finally asks. His voice is dripping with insolence.
“It’s a Royal baby, which means it will have the Royal last name. We’re getting married.” Callum is implacable. I guess this is what he sounds like in the boardroom, but this isn’t a business deal. It’s his family.
Brooke raises her left hand and spreads her fingers.
By the window, Reed’s entire body grows rigid. Beside me, Easton growls.
“That’s Mom’s ring!” Sebastian spits out.
“You can’t give her Mom’s ring.” Sawyer picks up a vase from the side table and throws it across the room. It doesn’t come anywhere near Brooke, but the crash makes us all flinch. “That’s fucking bullshit.”
“It’s not her ring.” Callum threads a shaky hand through his hair. “It might look like it, but your mother’s ring is upstairs. I promise you that.”
I gawk at him. What kind of man gives his new wife a ring that looks like his dead wife’s ring? And what kind of woman wants that? This game that Brooke is playing is too twisted for me. It’s like she’s getting off on hurting everyone.