Iris Boys Box Set
Page 50
"Come on," I said. "Let's just go."
Kyle stepped in front of me. "Where do you think you're going?" he demanded.
I looked up at him. "I'm not in the mood, Kyle," I said blandly. "I'm leaving. The park's yours." I turned back to Erika. "Ready?" I asked.
She nodded, but before she could move closer to me, Jimmy cut her off as well. "You can't leave until we say you can," he said.
"Yeah," Kyle mimicked. "Not until we say."
"What are you going to do?" Erika demanded. "Stop us?" She pushed past Jimmy and grabbed my hand.
Kyle's own came out and snagged my other arm before she could pull me away. "Aww, is the Bimbo scared we're gonna hurt her friend?" he taunted.
Jimmy laughed. "It's the only one she has."
Erika gritted her teeth and I tried to pull my arm from Kyle's grip. He squeezed harder. "You're hurting me," I said.
He looked down at me and squeezed harder, grinning. Just as I was about to knee him in his groin, a small dainty fist came out and slammed into his nose. Kyle's hand fell away as he cried out and tripped backward. Eyes wide, I turned to Erika, who held her fist close to her chest.
She winced. "That freaking hurt!"
"Hey!" Jimmy yelled, lunging for his brother to make sure he was okay.
"Come on," Erika snapped. With her free hand, she grabbed mine and then pulled me away as fast as possible.
"That was so..." I tried to say as we ran towards the road.
"I know," she said, sounding surprised. "I don't know what came over me."
"Whatever it was," I said, "you should let it happen more often."
Erika's grin was blinding. When we were a suitable distance away, I tugged on her hand to pull her to a stop. I could take care of myself. I would have punched Kyle if he had gotten too irritating, but I needed to hug her. When Erika slowed, I dropped her hand and put my arms around her.
"You're my best friend," I said as I inhaled her smell. Erika smelled like her mom's faded perfume and the lemony cleaning supplies her parents used to clean their house. It was comforting.
"And you're mine," she replied.
“I promise I’ll never let anything bad happen to you,” I said quietly, tears stinging at the back of my eyes.
I could feel her lips pressing into my hair as she smiled and squeezed me tighter. “I know you wouldn’t.”
I held her for a long time. I didn't know how long, but it was long enough that when I pulled back I could feel the extra warmth on my cheek from pressing against her shoulder. It was good to have a friend I could count on. Even though I could take care of myself and I wasn't so spineless as to let people like Kyle and Jimmy Bloom hurt me, Erika wasn't the kind of person who stood for it. Sure, she was girly, and she was a little forgetful at times, but she was a good person. She was my person.
Grayson
4 years ago…
Iris.
On one side of the coal-black card in my hand, the name was scribbled in a light, cursive, silvery ink. Beautiful printing, I thought, turning the card over and sliding my thumb across the elegant script. A single phone number marked the other side. I flipped the card again, holding it in my hand.
“We’re nearing the main gate,” the driver said, alerting me to the roll of the town car’s tires as it slowed to turn into the Vandersen-Caruso entryway. Scowling, I slid the card into my pocket and folded my arms across my chest. We turned into the gates and slowly rolled up the mile-long driveway.
When the driver stopped the car and got out to open my own door, I barely spared the man a glance as I ascended the front marble steps. The twin columns on either side of the solid oak, double front doors were cloaked in rich green ivy. It, too, was as fake as the people who lived in this godforsaken house. It was planted and grown to look natural and then twisted around the columns as a statement of architectural beauty. That’s all she was fucking obsessed with—beauty.
As I strode through the front doors, a butler stopped at my side. Before he could say a word, her voice flitted down the front staircase. “Grayson? You’re home.”
Tingles of rage poured into my veins every time I looked up at her beautiful, scheming face. Oh, yes. Theodora “Teddi” Vandersen-Caruso was quite possibly one of the most beautiful women in Charleston at one point in time, but years of attempting to stop aging had really ruined that for her.
“Yes, Mother.” I let the butler take my coat and scramble away as she descended the staircase. Even her own damn servants didn’t want to stay in the same room as her if they didn’t have to.
“Where have you been?”
“I was at Marv’s house.”
Her lips pinched down as she reached the bottom and stepped onto the mahogany flooring. “The Carter boy? What were you doing over there?”
“We’ve become…friends,” I said, casually straightening the cuffs on my dress shirt.
One elegantly carved, perfectly plucked eyebrow arched and her mouth turned down in a frown. Well, as much of a frown as she could manage after so much plastic surgery. Teddi Vandersen-Caruso looked as fake as she acted. She moved towards me, gliding across the floor and I stiffened when her long nails brushed against the fabric of my shirt as she reached out and touched the collar.
"I didn't know you were interested in the Carter family," she said, straightening my collar. I should have known better than to come home looking anything but perfectly pressed and put together. I barely resisted the urge to yank myself away from her. Of course, she would think that all I was interested in was Marv's family. God forbid I actually wanted to have a friend.
Relieved when she finally pulled back, I turned my face away and moved down the hall. The soft click of her heels on the hardwood echoed through the mansion like the sound of nails in a coffin as she followed. I kept moving until I turned the corner into the small study that had once been my father’s. That is, it was before he eloped with his secretary. We were a family of stereotypes. My father, the one who couldn't keep it in his pants. My mother, the frigid ice queen. Josh, the party boy and royal fuck up. And me. Whatever I was.
"So, when are you seeing this boy again? Have you met his father?" I stiffened at the interest in her voice and turned slowly as I stopped in front of the antique, neoclassical, executive desk. "Perhaps we should invite Marvin and his father over for dinner."
"Why do you care and why would we do that?"
"Grayson, dear, you know I care about who you decide to align yourself with." Teddi moved across the room to drape herself across one of the two matching, dark gray, chaise lounges.
That might have been true had I mentioned a family of less substantial wealth and power in Charleston. But she had never before mentioned her interest in them. In fact, she had been averse to inviting anyone over, lest they realized that my father had moved out and disappeared to somewhere in Bermuda with his new wife, and that her divorce was now not only filed, but finalized. Funny, what money could accomplish in the span of a few months; that and a few well-placed affidavits and fabrications.
"I'm just saying, Grayson, darling, that it might behoove us to invite them over." She sighed as though I were causing one of her famous migraines to appear out of thin air and shot me an irritated glance before flitting away again. "It'll be nothing too fancy. Perhaps something here. Something intimate. Just call your friend and ask him if he and his father would like to come. Friday sounds like a good day."
The father. Did she think I hadn't noticed? She was only mentioning Marv's father. A part of me wanted to think that perhaps she didn't know that Marv's parents were happily married, but I knew better. I had met Caitlyn Carter and she was nice. Much nicer and warmer than Teddi Vandersen-Caruso could ever hope to be.
I turned fully, facing my mother. "I will not be asking Marv or his father to come to dinner," I said quietly. Her eyes shot back to mine and she raised halfway up on the lounge, her features strained as she tried to convey her disappointment past her Botox. I smiled. "But perhaps, I could as
k his mother if she'd like to join us. I'm sure Mrs. Carter would be more than happy to come. I know how you like to have your connections."
My mother sat up and eyed me. At one point, she had been the most beautiful of the Charleston debutante society. That beauty, while still somewhat remaining under her surgical attempts to appear nineteen again when she was pushing into her late thirties, was only a mask for the snake lying within. I didn't doubt the reason she wanted Marv's father to come over without his wife. I doubted that even a good man such as Mr. Carter could withstand her for long once she set her sights on him.
Teddi stood, gliding across the study. When her hand landed softly on my cheek, her thumb rubbing up and down, she smiled. "Oh, Grayson, dear. You're too young to worry about things like connections."
Too young? Maybe. But this woman had aged me before my time. I grinned back at her. "I only want to support you," I lied.
All the while my mind rioted. If Marv and I were going to be friends, and if I did as he asked—if I joined Iris—we inevitably would. I liked him. I liked the idea that he represented. He was only a few years older than me, and already I could see in him what I couldn't in Josh. Friendship. Promises that would be kept. A chance to get out of this house.
"Invite your friend over, darling," Teddi ordered, taking her hand back as her eyes strayed away—her mind likely turning over various ways to get what she wanted. "I expect that he'll come. Make sure his father is invited."
I watched as she sashayed out of the study before turning and placing both of my palms down on the French, white wood of the desk. What was I going to do? I could put her off this week. Maybe even next week. Hell, I was good enough I could probably put her off for a long while. But I knew that look in her eyes. It was the same look she had the first time my father had attempted to leave her. She was on the hunt. Either for a new husband or for a lover who’d lavish her with gifts and money, I didn't know. All I knew was that I couldn't let my family fuck up Marv's.
The phone in my pocket rang and it felt like eons before I finally managed to reach into my slacks and pull it out. "Grayson."
"Hey, man. Did you think it over?" Marv's voice rolled over the receiver, cheery, upbeat.
Shit. I coughed to alleviate the sudden dryness in my throat. "Yeah," I said, moving swiftly around the desk and taking a seat in the chair directly behind it. I swiveled around, my gaze finding the windows.
The back lawn of the Vandersen-Caruso mansion was immaculate. A bubbling brook in the distance surrounded by tall cherry blossom trees, flown in from somewhere in Japan. There was a rose garden to the left where Teddi would often host tea parties. Though, that, too, had changed. Why? I thought to myself. Why the fuck would he do this to us? To me? It wasn't fucking fair. I shouldn’t be the one dealing with her. It should be my father.
"And? What's your answer?" Marv's question drew me out of my musings, making me realize that I had gone silent for several moments.
I contemplated briefly how to approach this. I couldn't let him know the real reason why I couldn't join Iris, why I couldn’t be his friend. But it had to be something believable. Something that would stick with him. Something that would keep him from looking further into this. My gaze moved to the door that Teddi had exited just minutes before. She could control a lot of things, but she couldn’t control Marv. I knew that. If at all possible, I had to keep him as far away from me as possible. I glanced down at the surface of the desk—my father's desk—some father he was. There, on the surface, were the acceptance letters to a private school across the country. Jacques Morris Academy. I fingered the edges, hissing when I slit the pad of my thumb on the edge of one. Pulling the hurt digit away, I put it in my mouth, and tasted copper on my tongue.
"Grayson, are you still there?"
Fuck. I had done it again. I sat up straighter. "I'm here." I squeezed my eyes closed, blocking out the image of the back lawn and all of the beautiful things there. I didn't need to see what I was selling my soul for. What I was saving him from wasn't beautiful. It was cruel. It was a woman who would use her connections—her own son—to remain in a position of luxury and envy. Without Rodrick Caruso, she was just a failed trophy wife.
And just like that, it hit me. I knew exactly what to do to drive him away. I leaned my head back into the chair, opening my eyes and feeling my fucking soul sink into the depths of my chest. "I can't accept your offer," I spat the last word venomously.
"What? Why?" Marv sounded surprised, as though he were already counting on my acceptance. If I were anyone else—had I been something other than a Caruso or a Vandersen—I would have. But I needed to keep him the fuck away from my shit, from my personal she-demon.
"Because I don't want to be connected to the son of a—" I choked on the word cheater.
"Son of a what?" Marv's voice went low and dark. "What the hell, Grayson?"
I swallowed. "Did you think I wouldn't find out?" God, I was lying through my fucking teeth. “I know,” I lied, “that your father has been fucking my mother. Yeah, Marv—" I sneered his name. “I know.”
"What the fuck are you talking about, man?"
"Oh, were you unaware?" I focused on one of the gardeners trimming hedges at the very back of the property. From my vantage point, he was a mere, blurry blip several yards in the distance. "Yeah, Marv, the great Anthony Carter is banging a Vandersen. I have to wonder if that's not the real reason they divorced." Teddi would be outraged to hear me talk about the divorce, but it wasn't like Marv—and half the city—didn't already know.
I listened as Marv drew in a shaky breath. "Listen, man. You're upset. I can promise you, my dad wouldn't do anything like that. I don't know what you heard, but—"
"I saw them together." The lie popped out of my mouth before I knew it. My breath shuddered out of my chest and I had to cover the lower half of the phone to keep him from hearing it.
"What?"
Too late. It was already too late. "Yeah," I said. "Walked in on them. So, don't you tell me what I do and don't know. Why don't you stick to your own family drama and leave me the fuck out of it."
There was a brief moment of silence before, “You're a goddamn fucking liar, Caruso. But I fucking get it. I'm out. Don't call me again. Stay in your own snake pit for all I care.” The dial tone echoed in my ear. I slowly lowered the phone and let it slip from my fingertips. He had no clue how close he was. Snake pit. That's exactly what this goddamn place was. There was no way in hell I'd ever get out.
My eyes fell on the brochure and papers for Jacques Morris Academy once more. There would only be more of the same if I went there. No way. I wasn't transferring out of Northwoods Academy only to end up in a place halfway across the country with the same people. But I did need to get the fuck out. I needed a place that was mine. Somewhere normal. Somewhere that I could hide in plain sight.
Public school. That was it. Teddi would hate it. But this was it. This was my choice. With the divorce finalized, if she wanted me to stay with her, she would agree to it or I was out, completely and wholly. I knew she wanted to keep me under her thumb. Josh was too fucked up to care what she said or did. He was of no use to her. But me—she could still use me. And this would be her payment. Three more years of this shit, then I was out. Out of her house. Out from under her thumb. And out from under the fucking Vandersen-Caruso name.
Or so I could only hope. For now, though… I pull out the card that Marv had given me, fingering the edges. Iris. Less than two weeks consideration and, already, I had ruined it. Less than a month in Iris and just on the cusp of being accepted fully, it was gone—snatched from my fingers just as they tried to close around it.
What had I just thrown away to protect an almost friend?
Chapter 1
I came awake as a door opened and the BMW began to ding repeatedly, letting whoever had opened the door know that the car was still running. With blurry vision, I rose up on my forearms and looked through the front windows.
"This is Alex's house
?" My voice came out as more of a croak—guttural and definitely still sleepy.
Bellamy glanced back at me over his shoulder from the front passenger seat. "It's just his mountain retreat. Usually, he rents it out but when anyone in Iris needs it he lends it to us as well."
"What are we doing here?" I asked, stifling a yawn. "I thought we were going to his house. I want to get this meeting done with sooner rather than later, so we can head out to find Erika."
"Alex is staying the weekend up here," Bellamy replied, "and we all felt like it would be better to meet Grayson on neutral territory. Since Erika and Josh’s disappearance involves him too, we have to take precautions." I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Neutral territory made them sound like such alpha animals. Bellamy frowned at me as my yawn finally got the better of me and escaped. "Are you okay?" he asked. "It wasn't that long of a drive, but you fell asleep less than a half hour in."
I scratched my arm and sat up fully. "I'm fine," I replied, "just tired. I feel like I haven’t gotten good sleep since we got back. I just want to sleep in my own bed for a change."
When I reached for the back door, he stopped me. "No, wait," he cautioned. "We're waiting for Marv's go ahead."
"His go ahead? Why? Is something wrong out here?" I glanced out through the back windshield. "Are we being watched?" When I turned back around, Bellamy looked at me as though I were crazy. "What?" I demanded.
"Where would you get an idea like that?" he asked, shocked. "We're not being watched. It's not like we're FBI or anything."
"Well, Iris does like to stick their nose in places that a lot of people would be upset about," I said. Case in point, the last job we had finished a few weeks before: suicides, drugged girls, a vengeance mission. It had been hard and extremely taxing as well as heartbreaking. I couldn’t really say much about Iris poking its head into the business of others because I went along with it all. I even pushed to go on the damn mission.