by Brown, Tara
I hugged myself and curled inward, gripping as I cried.
“Oh my God,” Lucas inhaled sharply before rushing to me, pulling me into him. I wept harder, but I couldn’t tell him the next part. My entire body was heaving with sorrow and all the lies I’d been pretending not to think.
I was the reason she was dead.
It was my fault.
If she never met me, she’d be alive.
The words floated about in my head, polluting the place.
“How do you know this?” He asked.
“She-she told me. My mother bragged about it.” I wailed.
“Your own mother? How is this possible? Why, Paige?” He hugged me tighter. I didn’t answer, I clung to him and the last awful truth I hadn’t shared yet.
“I don’t know,” I lied.
“Ophelia!” Laertes’ voice shouting across the field made us both pause, clinging to one another.
We turned simultaneously to see the silhouette of my brother coming our way with the sun behind him. He waved at us, not in a friendly way. It was urgent. Lucas stood, helping me up and patting me on the arm in a brotherly fashion as Laertes approached.
“What are you doing here?” I snarled, hating him.
“Why are you crying?” he asked as he came closer. “What did you do?” he demanded, pointing at Lucas.
“Turn that finger around, brother. She’s mad at you, not me.” Lucas scoffed bitterly.
“What? Why—”
“She heard you talking to me on the phone. Calling her ugly and stupid and all the other mean shit, you said,” Lucas raised his voice.
Laertes’ eyes widened and he bit his lip, guilty of the accusations.
“It’s true,” I muttered, wiping my face. “I heard everything.”
“O, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it. I was angry—”
“I don’t care. Just leave!” I growled back. Hating him even more now.
“There’s no excuse for my behavior.” He furrowed his brow. “Can I speak to her alone, Lucas?”
“No!” I snapped.
“Of course,” Lucas nodded his head at the hill. “I’ll wait over there.”
I wanted to argue but decided not to speak. It might be better for me to say nothing.
“I don’t expect you to forgive me. I came for another reason,” Laertes said as he stepped closer and lowered his voice. He furrowed his brow and stared at the ground, hesitant, until he finally said it, “I think Mother—I think Mother killed Paige. Or had her killed.” He was distraught, his hands shaking and his lip quivering. “And I don’t know what to do with it.”
“Why do you think that?” I asked flatly.
“So it’s true?” He blinked a tear from his eye. “You don’t seem surprised.”
“I’m not but I want to know why you think it.”
“Horatio,” he whispered. “He’s here with me. He’s hiding in the car. He didn’t think we should all be seen together. Can you leave here?”
“Meet me on the road. Lucas and I will be there in five. There’s a flat rock on the side of the road, right-hand side.”
His stare flickered to Lucas. “I don’t think you should tell him—”
“He already knows,” I said weakly.
Laertes’ eyes met mine, sorrowful and contemplative. “She’s a monster.”
“I know. We already knew that.” I turned away, walking to Lucas.
“What did he want?” Lucas asked when I reached him.
“He’s with Horatio, they want to speak to us. We’re going to meet them now.” I glanced at Lucas. “They know about my mother.”
He clenched his jaw, not saying anything. Fury flowed from his gaze. It was intimidating to see such a face so full of hatred.
We walked in silence, my mind racing on how Horatio knew this and a sense of dread tormenting me. Did he know the reason mother killed her?
They were waiting at the flat rock when we arrived. I rushed Horatio and hugged him. He sniffled a couple of times and wiped his eyes. “You okay?” he asked.
“I’m not,” I admitted, my own eyes wetting my cheeks.
“Me either.” His brow knit and Lucas took his turn hugging him. Laertes folded his arms across his chest, scowling.
“How do you know?” I asked Horatio.
He didn’t answer but instead pulled out his phone. He pressed his voicemail. He had one message dated July ninth.
It was a scratchy message with the sound papers or fabric rubbing together. It was followed by footsteps. Then a woman spoke, but the voice was muffled, “Paige, thank you for meeting me. I am hoping we can come to an understanding. I’ll pay you five hundred thousand dollars and you leave. You never make contact with Ophelia or anyone in our family again. You vanish. Surely, that is enough money for someone like you.”
My chest was so tight my heart felt like it was in a vice.
“You’re a real bitch, Mrs. Agard,” Paige spoke next, sounding as though she was smoking. “And you’re a shit mom. And I wouldn’t stay away from Ophelia for all the money you have. I didn’t come here to accept your bribe. I came to tell you to kiss my ass. I know who you are and what you’ve done. You don’t get to call the shots. Save your money and buy some manners and a lawyer.”
“Why you—”
More muffled sounds, maybe footsteps, cut off the other noises.
Then a bang.
Lucas and I jumped, my hand shot to my mouth. Another bang. Groans and moans and the sound of something hitting the ground. I was shaking my head in tiny twitches as tears streamed my cheeks when the call ended.
“Oh God,” Lucas whispered, his eyes meeting mine. “You were right.”
I crumpled onto the rock, sitting and holding myself. Knowing it and hearing it were two different things. I closed my eyes and wished again that somehow this would all end.
But there was no way out.
No exit strategy.
Chapter 9
It took me a moment to gather my thoughts. The world was spinning out of control.
But when I did, I asked Horatio the one question I had, “How long have you had this?”
“Two days. I didn’t notice it. I was outta my mind when it happened. And Paige was always driving drunk, so I believed the police.” He lowered his head and sat next to me on the rock. “By the time the funeral was over and everything settled, I realized she’d called my burner. This is my phone for”—he gulped but said what he was uncomfortable saying—“New York. I do work for someone on their docks. No one has this number but one guy. And he doesn’t know my name.”
“But Paige knew about it?”
“Yeah,” he answered Lucas. “She helped me out with some transactions when she was staying at her mom’s.” He sighed. “I shouldn’t have gotten her involved.”
“This isn’t your fault,” I said softly, taking his hand in mine.
Horatio sniffled. “I didn’t get to make things right.” He wiped his eyes, pulling out of the embrace and shaking his head.
“What do you mean?” Laertes sounded confused.
“That night at Club Norway, when we were all there, I lied to her. I told her I sent O home with some guards. I said you were sick. When she got pissed that Ophelia left, I let her think it was because I was there. I didn’t tell her you were there, Lucas, I didn’t want a scene.” He spoke bitterly at Lucas. “She hated you so much.”
“Me?” Lucas furrowed his brow.
“Yeah, man.” Horatio scoffed and wiped his face again. “We woke up and she had a bunch of texts from O, getting angry. We fought and she left, and that was the last time I heard her voice until I found the message two days ago when I checked my messages for work.”
Lucas and I both reacted.
Horatio covered his eyes with his hands. “It doesn’t matter now. She’s gone. I loved her and she’s gone,” Horatio confessed quietly.
“She knew you loved her,” I said soothingly. “She knew. I’ve never seen a face light up like her
s did when you were around. She knew.”
“She did,” Laertes agreed.
“I don’t know what to do with myself,” Horatio admitted and we all hugged him. Even Laertes.
The scent of lilacs smothered us but none of them noticed it.
“What do we do with this?” Laertes asked, sounding hopeless and scared. “Knowing our mother is a murderess?”
“I don’t know, but someone also murdered my father and my dog,” Lucas added. “And those deaths that close together can’t be a coincidence.”
Laertes and Horatio both lifted their faces to his.
“It’s true. I was eavesdropping and heard Dad,” I said to my brother. “He was in his office and a man named Dr. Dupree called. He said Dad was right. The king was murdered. Some methyl something or other. It was inhaled not ingested and mimicked a stroke.”
“That’s how Romeo died too!” Laertes pieced it together.
“Our thoughts exactly,” Lucas agreed as he stepped forward, offering Laertes his hand. “I need to say something to you before we move on with the rest of this insanity. Nothing happened that night, between me and O. I swear to you, as your friend and brother, nothing.”
Laertes glanced in my direction. I nodded though it pained me. He took Lucas’ hand, and they hugged tightly, Laertes closed his eyes and melted into the embrace, and I realized what was happening.
He was in love with Lucas.
The same way I was.
The realization clicked a thousand puzzle pieces into place.
How could I have been so blind?
Horatio joined their hug, but I stayed off to the side, unsure of how to act with this knowledge added to the mountain of information we were dealing with.
“I missed you,” Laertes said.
“Me too. I hate it when we fight.” Lucas ruffled Laertes’ perfect hair, making him blush.
Again, how had I missed this?
“What do we do now?” Horatio repeated Laertes’ question.
“We need a plan.” Lucas started to pace. “Clearly, the coroners are in on this. Declaring Paige a drowning when she had bullet wounds and saying my father had a stroke when he was poisoned. Someone’s on the take.”
“Whoever bribed them, knows the story, we need those answers,” Laertes finished the thought. “And Dr. Dupree, we should find out who he is and what the exact poison is.”
“At this point, our parents are the main suspects in everything?” I asked, still a bit in shock.
“Yes,” Laertes agreed. “I’m so sorry, O.” He reached for my hand, and as much as I wanted to pull away, I didn’t. I let him bring me into his arms and even hugged him back. The desperation in his grip suggested he was genuinely sorry, but the entirety of the moment could easily have explained his emotions. Our lives were upside down. And I had no idea how to fix this. And we were both in love with the same person.
“Whatever we do with this, we have to be careful. New York is plotting. Fortinbras is up to no good. If he sniffs weakness in New Denmark, he’ll make his move,” Horatio reminded us.
“Of course. And there’s no way he did any of this?” Lucas asked.
“No, man, they’re talking about moving. No one is doing anything yet. As far as I know he was legit about the peace talks with your dad.” Horatio shrugged.
“It would be too convenient to be them.” Lucas glanced in my direction. “Speaking of convenient, as much as I want to believe your mother killed Paige to prevent her from seeing you, I can’t help but think there’s more to that story.”
My insides tightened.
There was more.
My mother’s hopes for marriage.
But how did I say that now?
The lie slipped from me too smoothly, “I don’t know.”
“I agree, Mother is crazy, but to shoot Paige? Something has to be missing from this.” Laertes’ eyes narrowed. “Could the recording be a lie? A fake?”
“Framing your mother?” Lucas knit his brow. “Your father’s firm is important, but I don’t see what anyone would gain from that.”
We all nodded, staring at the ground and contemplating. The guys considered the evidence. I dreaded them ever finding out that I had been brought here under false pretenses.
“Do you guys want to leave here?” Laertes asked Lucas and me.
“I don’t think we should,” Lucas answered for us both. “I say we stay with the status quo until we have an idea of what direction to go. Once we leave here, everything changes.”
“Well, all I know is you two both better be on best behavior and the sanest people in that place. You need to leave here with perfect records and no doubt as to your ability to rule if this turns out to be your uncle in some squabble gone too far. As the person who would benefit the most, we can’t rule him out.”
“I know,” Lucas said with a heavy tone, agreeing with Laertes’ worst fears.
“And here, I brought these. I assumed the administration take your phones for all the froufrou nonsense going on up in there,” Laertes muttered and handed us both a cell phone. “They’re burners, fresh ones. No one knows them. You can leave them on.”
“Thanks, guys,” I finally said what my brother needed to hear. As much as he clearly loved Lucas, he was doing this for me and I knew it.
“We’re going to father with everything.” He hugged me tightly again, kissing the top of my head. “I won’t let her hurt you again.”
“I know,” I whispered into his chest, and it was the truth. He wouldn’t.
“We should get back before anyone becomes suspicious or worried,” Lucas offered, glimpsing back at the woods.
“Horatio and I will try to figure out how the poisoning of your father and Romeo happened.”
“You should try to figure out where Mother Dearest and Paige met. Maybe there are security cameras,” I said. “Paige knew to call Horatio’s phone and leave a message of the conversation. Maybe she was smart enough to pick a location for the meeting too.”
“That’s genius, O,” Horatio agreed, pulling me from Laertes’ arms and hugging me tightly. “Be safe and watch his back.” He motioned his head at Lucas, who chuckled and nodded.
“I will.” We both hugged them once more before turning and walking back into the woods.
“I’m sorry,” I said with a heavy sigh. “That I didn’t tell you your dad was murdered,” I muttered as our feet crunched along the twigs and forest floor.
“I can’t pretend to understand why you would keep this secret, O.” He paused and stared at me. “Why wouldn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t know how to. The day I found out was the same day my mom drugged me and put me in here. And when I saw you, we were pretending everything was fine. And—” I ran out of excuses. “There’s no reason. I was scared of how you’d react. I was a coward, and I should have. I’m really sorry.” I didn’t add that if he’d left to avenge his father, I would have ended up in a different location and my choices were purely selfish.
“Okay.” He began to walk again. The crazed man in my room who fought himself not to kiss me was long gone. My brother’s friend had resurfaced, and I suspected he would be staying. Especially after this betrayal.
“The other thing I don’t understand is why your mom drugged you and put you in here. Do you think it’s because you heard your dad talking? Could she have known that?” Lucas wasn’t letting it go.
“I—I don’t know,” I lied and stared at the ground, my pace quickening.
“Did you just—did you lie? Do you know?” he grabbed my arm lightly and spun me. His stormy eyes made my stomach ache, but I couldn’t keep up the pretense.
“No.”
“You’re still lying, why?” He stepped back and the distance and distrust forced a word from my lips.
“You,” I admitted almost silently, sure this was not going to go well with the other truths I’d withheld.
“Me?” He was visibly confused. “What do you mean?”
“She
decided after our night in New York that we had shamed our families long enough.” My voice cracked with emotion as I repeated her words, “She said you’d hung out with me in New York away from New Denmark because you saw me as nothing more than a notch on your belt.” I laughed nervously but it resembled a sob. The truth wasn’t setting me free; it was making things worse. I couldn’t look at him but I sensed his discomfort. It didn’t match mine though.
“A notch?”
“She thinks everyone sees us both as whores—I suppose though you get the label player, and I’m the whore.” I pressed my lips together.
“Then why put us in here together?”
I closed my eyes and said it, squeezing them so tightly it hurt. “So I could win you over, and we could get married and fix our reputations,” I whispered it, but it didn’t make it land softer. The truth was awful. “My reputation.”
“Oh my God. And you went along with it? Did she kill Paige so you would have something to grieve too?” He sounded disgusted and my silence answered for me. “And you didn’t share this with us just now because?” His tone took a dark turn.
“How could I?” The question burst from me. “How could I admit I’m the reason Paige died? How could I say my best friend died for something so pathetic as winning over a guy? My mother saw her as nothing! A pawn. Garbage.” Again, tears sprang from my eyes. But his expression hardened. He didn’t share my emotions or understand my reasons.
“I can’t help but wonder if you wanted the same thing as her, which is why you would keep her dirty secrets.” He took another step back.
“What?” I gasped.
“Did you?” he shouted. “Did you want to win me over, O? Share in my grief and heartbreak? Has this all been an act? You in the photo gallery at the funeral? Did you have someone pretend to be my father to lure me when I was drunk? Hope to get me in the dark shadows? Have you been playing hard to get all along to heighten my interest?” He spit his words and questions at me, “Maybe your mother should have put you in a convent instead of a mental institute.”
I parted my lips to defend myself, but I couldn’t. The words wouldn’t come out. The smell of lilac became the air, Paige was pushing me back. I took her advice and turned, running away as tears blinded me.