by Gemma Weir
An impatient knock at the door pulls me from sleep and I look around disoriented and unsure where I am for a minute. As I take in my surroundings, I remember that I’m in a bedroom on Carson’s boat. Searching the walls for a clock, I finally spot one on the bedside table, shocked to see that it’s after three in the afternoon.
One of the crew brought me a plate of food earlier and after picking at it I must have fallen asleep. The knock at the door becomes more insistent and I crawl off the bed and move to open it.
Twisting the lock, I turn the handle, pulling the door toward me and find Arlo stood on the other side, his fist poised and ready to knock again.
“We’re back at the marina,” he says, his eyes taking me in.
“Okay, I’ll be out in a minute,” I say coldly, not meeting his eyes.
“Tally,” he starts, but I interrupt him.
“I just need to freshen up and I’ll be ready,” I say, turning and pushing the door closed in his face.
I use the bathroom and splash some water on my face before sliding my shoes back on and heading back onto the deck. Four sets of eyes all turn to me as I step outside, but I ignore them all except Olly, who I flash a small barely there smile to.
I watch impatiently as Matthew secures the gangplank into place and the moment he steps back, I offer him my thanks and walk down and onto the dock, not waiting for the others as I make my way back to Arlo’s car. Only moments later, the guys all appear and I climb into the Range Rover, shuffling over to the far side of the rear seat so I can look out of the window rather than end up stuck in the middle between the two guys again.
The guys all chat between themselves as we drive home, but I don’t engage in the conversation, merely counting down the minutes until we pull onto the driveway for Arlo’s house. When he pulls to a stop, I’m grateful for Susan’s impeccable service as the front door swings open. I eagerly dart into the house, thanking her as I head for the room I used last night to gather my stuff.
Grabbing my cell, I quickly dial Greg’s number.
“Miss Tallulah, are you okay?” He answers.
“Could you come and pick me up from the Lexingtons please?” I ask.
“Of course, I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Thank you,” I say shakily.
“I’ll be there soon,” my sweet driver says, his voice full of fatherly concern that brings more tears to my eyes.
Shoving my cell into the pocket of my shorts, I gather all of my things and pack them neatly into my overnight bag, then carefully slide my beautiful dress into its garment bag and pull it off the hook it was hanging on.
I glance around, checking that I haven’t left anything behind before leaving the room and making my way downstairs. When I hit the foyer, Susan is moving silently toward the living room, but she pauses when she sees me.
“Miss Archibald, your driver is outside.”
“Thank you,” I tell her. “Do you know where Arlo is? I need to let him know that I’m leaving.”
“Mr. Lexington and his other guests are all on the terrace. Would you like me to take your things to the car?” She asks.
“Thank you, that would be great,” I say, handing off my bags to her, as I pull in a sharp inhale and make my way to the living room. When I enter the room, I can hear the guys outside and I silently make my way toward them.
“Dude, she was crying, this isn’t fucking funny anymore.” I hear Olly say.
“She’ll be fine,” Watson says, laughing.
“I’m not so sure she will be. Just because she looks like Carrigan. She isn’t her sister and she’s a nice girl. This shit you’re doing to her is kind of fucked up,” Olly argues.
“Look, this will all blow over and the Archibalds will stop pouting in a day or so. I’m sure she’ll thank me in the end for pulling her out of Cruelligan’s shadow and she’ll have her parents eating out of her hand when they realize Tallulah landed me when Carrigan couldn’t,” Arlo says lightly, like this really is just a joke. But then I suppose to him it is.
Steeling myself, I step out onto the terrace and wait as all four of them turn to me.
“Do you want a beer?” Carson asks, jumping up and moving to the bar.
“No thanks. I just came to let you know that my driver’s here,” I say quietly.
“I was going to drive you,” Arlo says, a smirk spreading across his lips.
“It’s fine,” I shrug. “Here,” I say reaching out toward him, the massive engagement ring gripped between my fingers.
“What?” Arlo says, glancing at the ring with disdain.
“Your ring,” I say.
“It needs to be on your finger,” he snaps.
“I’m not wearing that thing. This engagement you’ve forced me into is fake, but that rock is real and I’m not wearing a million-dollar diamond on my finger,” I hiss, pushing my hand closer to him.
“Put it on,” he demands.
“No,” I snap.
“Put the fucking ring on, Tally. Right the fuck now.”
“Or what?” I snarl, feeling more anger fill me, as I think about the chaos he’s wrought in my life in the last twenty-four hours.
“Or I don’t just tell your parents that you set up this fake engagement, I’ll go to the press. I’ll drag you and your family through the mud, get the story on the front page of every fucking rag in the country,” he growls, standing up and moving to loom over me.
“Arlo, what the fuck?” I hear Olly shout.
“I hate you,” I whisper, vehemence filling my words.
He jolts back in shock, as if I’ve surprised him, but I just whirl around, forcing the stupid ring back onto my hand and flashing him my middle finger as I march away, ignoring the calls of my name as I rush out of the house and toward my car.
Greg’s eyes are wide and wary as I climb into the car and he silently closes the door behind me, swiftly moving to the driver’s seat and starting the car’s engine. Glancing out of the window, I see Arlo bursting through the front door.
“Go,” I say and Greg immediately pulls away from the curb, ignoring Arlo’s fist banging on my window as we start to move.
Curling into a ball, I suck in short gasps of air as silently as I can. This is the biggest clusterfuck and I have no idea what the hell is going to happen with either my family or Arlo, but I’m confident it’s not going to be good.
My cell starts to ring, and I glance down to see an unknown number appear on the screen. I only have a handful of numbers saved in my ancient cell, including Fitzy, who almost had an apoplectic fit when he saw my ancient cell phone this morning.
Rejecting the call, it immediately rings again, the same number appearing, and for a second I wonder if it’s Arlo, though I’m not sure how he would have got my number. I reject it again, then turn off my phone, sliding it back into my pocket and doing what I can to be as calm as possible before I have to walk in and face the music.
“Are you okay?” Greg asks.
“Nope,” I admit, pulling my lower lip into my mouth to stop it from shaking.
He doesn’t say anything more, but I can feel his worried gaze on me in the rear-view mirror. We get to my house much quicker than I would have liked and it only feels like seconds later when Greg opens my door, watching me sympathetically.
I climb out before all of my falsified courage deserts me, smiling at Mrs. Humphries when she opens the door. For a minute I consider hiding in my room until one of them forces the confrontation I know is coming, but I don’t get a chance.
“Hello, daughter, you’ve got some explaining to do,” my mother’s cold, chilling voice says.
I slap at her window, but she ignores me as her car pulls off, the wheels spinning slightly on the gravel before gaining traction and driving away. “Tally,” I pointlessly shout as the car disappears from view.
Roughly pulling my cell from my pocket, I dial the number Fitzy texted me earlier, lifting my cell to my ear and listening to it ring out, before I’m sent to
an automated voicemail. Disconnecting the call, I immediately call her back, growling in annoyance as I’m sent to voicemail again. I call again and this time it doesn’t even ring before the stupid robotic voice prompts me to leave a message.
“Fuck,” I hiss, exhaling loudly as I stomp back into the house, pushing past Susan who is holding the door. “She’s fucking gone,” I announce as I drop back into my seat on the terrace and take a long pull of my beer, feeling aggravated, my irrational anger pushing to be released.
“I need a proper drink,” I growl, standing up and marching to the bar. I pour myself a healthy measure of bourbon into a glass and then immediately down half of the contents, enjoying the way the liquor burns as I swallow.
Returning to my seat, I find all three of my friends watching me, Wats and Carson’s expressions are pensive while Olly’s is angry.
“You’re taking this too far,” Olly warns.
“This is nothing to do with you,” I snap.
“This was funny when we thought Tallulah was like the rest of her family, but she isn’t, and she doesn’t deserve you being an asshole and blackmailing her,” he snarls, his expression more serious than I think I’ve ever seen him.
“She’s an Archibald, she’ll be fine,” I say dismissively, gulping more liquor to wash away the taste of the lie from my lips.
“She was crying real fucking tears, Arlo. Tally is innocent in all of this and her family are a fucking nightmare. You saw the way they were with her last night and you don’t give a fuck. You starting all this to fuck with them is one thing, but you’ve sent Tally to deal with the fallout.”
“You were there when I offered to go with her,” I say, defending myself even though guilt is festering inside of me, making my stomach twist with concern for the beautiful fucking Archibald twin.
He laughs. “Why the fuck would she want you to go with her? Every time you’ve been near her since you dragged her out of the car yesterday morning, you’ve just piled more and more shit at her feet.”
“Why are you defending her? Are you hoping to try your luck with an Archibald? You want to be her knight in shining fucking armor? Because newsflash, Oliver, she’s mine, and she’ll stay mine for as long as I need her to,” I shout, draining the last of the bourbon from my glass.
Olly shakes his head at me, disgust pouring from him. “You’re an asshole,” he spits, getting up from his seat and walking away without a backward glance.
My body freezes at the sound of my mother, and a chill settles over me, like just the sound of her voice actually lowers the temperature of the room.
“Come into the living room,” she demands, turning on her heel and walking away because she knows I’ll follow.
Swallowing thickly, I clench my hands into tight fists at my sides, pull in a sharp breath and move. Delaying this conversation won’t change the inevitable outcome. My parents and Carrigan are going to lose their minds. They’re going to accuse me of deliberately ruining their plans for Carrigan and Arlo, and probably suggest I seduced him, or drugged him or hypnotized him into proposing to me.
The door to the living room is closed and as I reach out to open it, my hand is shaking. I know this is going to be bad. If I thought they’d believe me, I’d tell them the truth; but it’s easier for them to assume I’m treacherous, than it is for them to consider Arlo just doesn’t want my sister.
Pushing open the door, I step inside, my head up, my eyes downcast. My mom and Carrigan are sat primly on the couch and my dad is just inside the doorway, his posture angry. They all wait silently as I take two more steps inside, closing the door behind me.
I turn around just in time to see my dad’s fist coming towards me as he backhands me so hard I fly backwards and hit the door. My head bounces off the wood and my vision blurs as pain explodes across my cheek.
As the pain radiates through my face, I slam back against the cold wood of the floor, my legs crumpling as the floor rushes up toward me. This was a mistake, thinking that I could reason with my family, that they wouldn’t instantly assume I was treacherous and disloyal.
I should have run while I had the chance, because if I’ve learnt anything in the last few years it’s that money is the root of all evil. A will. The last wishes of a dead man shouldn’t have had the power to change all of our lives.
Parents, sisters, family, none of it matters. With billions of dollars at stake, no one was ever going to come out unscathed, least of all me.
* * *
The End
* * *
Coming soon The Spare - Part two
Acknowledgments
This is book number ten and honestly I don’t think I ever expected to get to this point.
It’s a funny story how this book found its way to life. I’m the member of a group where premade covers are offered for sale. Now all my other books have custom covers and they were specifically created to match the story. However, when I saw the cover for this book the entire story flashed before my eyes and I knew, I just knew, that there was no way I could not buy it.
As always Andie M. Long you are wonder woman and I’d be lost without you.
Abigail Davies of Pink Elephant Designs if you hadn’t created this cover, I would never have written this book, so thank you so much for inspiring me.
Sarah, Sarah, Sarah. I can’t write my acknowledgments without giving you a mention. Love you bestie x
Joanna, I made you like teen romance. I’m sooo proud!!
To all my lovely readers, sorry for the cliffy, but the next book’s coming soon, I promise.
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