Park (Archer's Creek Book 4)

by Gemma Weir

  “Why did she tell you she wanted to find me?” he counters, stepping forward and into my personal space.

  “To begin with she told me she wanted to reconnect with her childhood best friend, that she wanted you at her wedding.”

  “To begin with?”

  “That wasn’t the whole truth,” I admit quietly.

  “What was the whole truth?” Park asks, moving closer, until I have to tip my head back to look at him.

  “I think that’s between you and her. All I’ll say is that I don’t agree with her reasons and that’s why we argued.”

  His eyebrows raise in surprise and he steps back, not moving far, but far enough that I inhale sharply, grateful for the space that’s now between us. Park’s assessing eyes are focused on me and he opens his mouth to speak, but Smoke’s voice interrupts. “I’ve had a great idea. If you miss a shot you have to take a shot,” he says in a sing-song voice, bottles of beer gripped in one hand and a tray of shots balancing in the other.

  “But you’re the only person who’s missed so far,” I say cockily, forcing myself to look away from Park’s intense grey eyes.

  “True,” he says with a nod, lifting a shot glass to his lips and throwing back the liquid. “But I won’t be. One of you two fuckers is gonna miss sooner or later.”

  Park laughs, moving to the pool table, then barely glancing at the balls, he leans over and sends a yellow ball flying into the pocket. “Yeah, dude. I’m gonna be slamming shots like an Amish kid on Rumspringa.”

  Smoke flicks him the bird, then winks at me.

  “So,” Park starts.

  “Hey, hey,” I say stopping him. “Not all of your questions can be directed at me. You need to ask each other stuff too,” I chide.

  “But I already know everything about dipshit over there,” Park says.

  Shrugging, I offer him a wry grin, and cross my arms across my chest, raising my eyebrows expectantly. In my head my body language is exuding ‘don’t mess with me’ vibes, but from the amused look on both of their faces I’m not sure I’m as badass as I think I am.

  “Fine,” Park whines. “Smoke, did you fuck?”

  “Stop, stop. I don’t want to hear any of that.” I cut him off frantically.

  Both men laugh and I shoot them a narrow-eyed glare. “Park, you forfeit your go for being a dick.”

  Smoke wags a finger at Park, chuckling. “Dude, don’t piss off little miss sassy pants over there, or she’ll make you go sit in the corner.”

  “Justin, shut up and take your shot,” I scold Smoke. His mouth drops open and he gawps at me, shocked that I called him by his first name.

  “OHHHHH,” Park cries, covering his mouth to stifle his laughter.

  “You did not just first name me?” Smoke says.

  “I did. Now take the shot or grab a shot,” I say pointing at the tray of shot glasses.

  Smoke shakes his head, his smile so wide it could split his face in two. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Two hours later we’re on the second tray of shots and all of our aims are a little worse for wear. I know more random stuff about these two men now, than I do about most of my long term friends, and I’m having a blast.

  “Do you wear a thong?” Smoke asks, his voice slightly slurred.

  “Ewww no! Thongs are evil, always stuck up your butt.”

  Throwing his head back he laughs loudly. “Sweetheart, you’re hilarious. You don’t give a fuck about impressing us; it’s fantastic.”

  “Why would I try to impress you?” I ask, attempting to focus on Smoke’s face, even though he’s swaying a little and it’s making my head hurt.

  “Exactly,” he cries, throwing his hands into the air. “Park, why couldn’t Rosie have been your sister and not Taylor? That would have been awesome.”

  “What?” I say, the room dipping out of focus as I swing around to look at Park.

  “Oh fuck,” Smoke says from behind me. “She didn’t know. Fuck. Brother, I’m sorry. I thought she knew.”

  My eyes lock with Park’s. “What’s he talking about? Taylor’s your sister?”

  He nods, his eyes solemn. All traces of the happiness from only moments ago lost.

  “Does she know?” I ask, as my heart hurts for my friend. If she just found out, she’s going to be losing her mind and instead of comforting her, I’m here, playing pool and getting drunk with two strangers.

  “She’s always known,” Park says, his usually lilting accent now raw and husky.

  “I don’t understand? She didn’t know, she can’t have,” I ramble, thoughts of our last conversation about Park running through my mind.

  “I found out ten years ago. That was the day I left. But apparently her mom told her when she was just a kid. She’s knew for eight years of our friendship and never said a thing.”

  “No. No, that’s not right, that can’t be true. If she knew then she wouldn’t have, she couldn’t have… No.” I say, my words a jumbled-up mix of thoughts and denials.

  “Rosebud,” Park says, pulling my attention to him.

  I look up into his face.

  “She knew.”

  I can see the sincerity in his words. I can see that he’s hurting, see that it’s deeper than surface betrayal. But he’s a virtual stranger and she’s my best friend. “I need to get back to the hotel.”

  Rosie barely makes eye contact with me as she searches for her cellphone in her purse. “Rosebud, you won’t get a cab out here. Let me get someone to give you a ride. I’d take you myself, but I’ve had too much to drink.”

  She nods, her cell gripped tightly in her hand. “I need to call her.”

  “Okay, go make your call and I’ll find you a ride.”

  She agrees, but her attention is focused on her cell and the number she’s dialing.

  “I’m sorry. I thought she knew,” Smoke says as he moves to my side.

  “I thought she did too. She said something earlier about Taylor lying. I figured it was about me.”

  Pulling my cell from my pocket I dial Nikki’s number. “Hey, sweetie,” she says as she answers.

  “Hey, Nik, I need a favor.”

  “Okay, is it gonna piss off Blade?”

  “No.”

  “Boo,” she says with an amused laugh.

  “I’ll do something to piss him off later, but right now I need you to give me and a friend a ride.”

  “What’s wrong with your bike?”

  “Nothing, but we’ve been drinking.”

  “Okay, give me thirty minutes. Are you at the club?”

  “Yeah, and Nik… thanks.”

  I can practically hear all the questions she wants to ask me in the silent pause before she speaks. “No worries, see you soon.”

  “Bye, babe.” Ending the call, I push my cell back into my pocket and cross the room to where Rosebud is pacing, her cell to her ear, her body rigid with agitation.

  “Rosebud,” I say, softly placing my hand on her shoulder to get her attention.

  She spins to face me, her eyes a little glassy and wide with worry. “She’s not answering my calls,” she says, a catch in her voice.

  “Our ride’s on her way. She’ll be here in thirty minutes. Taylor will be fine.”

  “She won’t. She…” She cuts herself off without finishing her sentence.

  “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Nothing,” she says too quickly.

  “Rosebud, anyone ever tell you that you’re a shitty liar?” I ask. Her cheeks flush that fucking perfect shade of rosebud pink as she avoids my eyes and I know that she knows more than she’s letting on. “Rosie.”

  Still avoiding my gaze, she fumbles with her cell, tapping at the screen with her fingers.

  “Rosie,” I say again, placing my hand over her cell and preventing her from looking at it.

  “What?” she snaps, still avoiding my eyes guiltily.

  “What’s going on? Did you know I was her brother?”

  She looks up at me and shakes h
er head. “No. I had no idea.”

  “Then why do you look guilty?”

  “I don’t look guilty, I’m just worried about my friend.”

  I stare at her for a moment, searching for the lie, but it’s not there. She’s worried about Taylor, but why do I feel like this isn’t just about our DNA revelations? I don’t know her well enough to call her on this shit, so instead I just nod and watch as she calls Taylor again and again as we wait for Nikki to get here.

  Twenty minutes later, Nik struts into the clubhouse, her barely visible pregnant belly showing through the fitted vintage dress she’s wearing. In an ideal world, Nikki would be my perfect woman: she’s tall and covered in tats, with enough attitude to make her a stunning ball of fire, but enough softness to make her a jewel. Unfortunately, I’ve never felt that way about her and she’s never felt that way about me. We’re friends, not close friends, at least not as close as I thought we were. A lump of dread pools in my gut. For months I’ve been pissed at her for keeping a huge part of her past a secret and I’ve been doing the exact same thing.

  When she spots Smoke and I sat on bar stools watching Rosebud pace back and forth calling Taylor again and again, she looks at me, a clear question in the rise of her eyebrow.

  “Hey,” she says, leaning into me for a hug when she reaches my side.

  “Hey, babe, thanks for doing this.”

  “What exactly am I doing?”

  “Hey, Rosebud,” I call to her and she pauses, turning to look at us. “This is Nikki. She’s gonna give us a ride.”

  Rosie looks to Nikki and flashes her a polite smile. “Thank you so much, Nikki. I’m Rosie.”

  Nikki smiles back at her, waving slightly, her car keys gripped in her hand. “Are you guys ready then? Blade’s taking me out to dinner, and I want to go see Dove before I need to get ready.”

  “Sure,” I say, rising from my seat and reaching for Rosebud’s hand. She allows me to take it, but when I look down at her, her brow is wrinkled in consternation and she’s looking from our entwined hands to me and back again.

  “See you later, sweetheart,” Smoke calls as we move away from the bar.

  “Bye, Smoke.”

  “So where are we going?” Nikki asks.

  “The Olympic hotel, if that’s okay?” Rosebud says shyly.

  “Oh, is that the new fancy place out past Lanlan?”

  Rosebud shrugs uncomfortably, so I answer for her. “Yeah, that’s the place.”

  “Okay then. You guys ready?”

  “Yes, thank you for doing this,” Rosebud says, pulling her hand from mine and walking quicker to catch up with Nikki.

  It shouldn’t matter that this girl doesn’t want to hold my hand; she’s no-one to me, just the friend of my half-sister. But a subtle twinge of hurt pulses in my stomach. I want to touch her, not even fuck her, I just want to be able to pull her close and be near her. The unexpected realization makes my fingers clamp into fists at my sides, but I grit my teeth and follow behind the two women as Nikki leads us toward her car.

  “Wow, this is a beautiful car,” Rosebud says.

  “Isn’t she?” Nikki says, pride evident in her voice.

  We all climb in and Rosebud settles into the backseat, her bags beside her, while I sit up front.

  “So how do you guys know each other?” Nikki asks, her head swiveling between me and Rosebud.

  “Oh, well, we don’t really. I’m a friend of Taylor.” Rosebud says.

  “Taylor?” Nikki asks, her assessing eyes laser-focused on me.

  “I’ll tell you later,” I mutter quietly.

  Nikki stares at me for a long moment, then nods and starts the engine. The ride to the hotel is short and quiet. Nikki and Rosebud exchange a few words, but mostly all I feel is the tension-filled silence between us.

  I exhale as we pull into the hotel’s parking lot. A uniformed valet steps to the curb, but Nikki waves him off and he subtly retreats back into the shadows.

  “Can you wait for a minute?” I ask Nikki.

  She nods and I quickly climb out, lifting the seat so Rosebud can follow suit. She reaches for her bag, but I take it and gesture for her to lead the way.

  “Thank you, Nikki. I really appreciate the ride,” Rosebud says, before she turns and walks into the brightly lit lobby.

  Looking over my shoulder, I catch Nikki watching me, and I know, just know that there’s going to be fewer secrets between us by the end of the night.

  Closing the distance, we walk side by side, her hand hanging limply between us. I want to reach for it, to take her hand in mine, but I don’t. Instead, I place my palm lightly at the base of her spine and guide her into the waiting elevator. When we arrive on their floor, Rosebud darts out as soon as the doors open, rushing down the corridor and toward the suite she and Taylor have been sharing.

  Music is pouring from beneath the door to the suite and I glance warily at Rosebud. Her fist is raised and she’s knocking gently on the wood, but there’s no way anyone would hear that over the blaring music. Rosebud knocks again, slightly more insistently, but the noise doesn’t lower, and Taylor doesn’t answer. As she lifts her fist to knock again, I reach over her head and bang on the door several times with my fist. A few moments later the door cracks open and a disheveled looking Taylor answers the door.

  She looks from me to Rosebud and when her eyes land on her friend she bursts into loud, dramatic tears. The girls throw themselves into each other’s arms, stumbling to the side with the force of their embrace.

  “Ladies, how bout we take this inside?” I suggest, making sure I only touch Rosebud as I steer them out of the doorway and inside the suite. The girls stumble into the room in a mass of tears and hugs and drama.

  Standing back, I watch as they converse in a language that I swear isn’t fucking English. It’s a high-pitched whine-like sound that may well be dog or possibly primordial man, or something equally as random. Whatever it is. I don’t have a fucking clue what’s going on.

  “Ladies, how are we all doing here?” I ask from near the door.

  The room falls silent and both women turn and look at me. As if realizing for the first time that I’m actually here, Taylor jumps from the sofa, brushing down her creased shirt and trying to be discreet as she wipes away the stray tears that are running down her cheeks.

  “We’ll be fine thanks, Park.” Rosebud says, as she rises from the sofa and takes up an almost submissive position slightly behind Taylor. I barely acknowledge my half-sister; my eyes are riveted on Rosebud. How is it possible that in only a day Taylor has gone from the center of my universe to an insignificant blip?

  “Park,” Taylor snaps, her voice an annoyed yap.

  I don’t want to look away from Rosebud. I don’t understand why I’m this captivated by her, but I am. Despite how beautiful Taylor is, she pales in comparison with the pixie like redhead and everything about Rosebud is compelling me to want to know more.

  “Park,” Taylor yaps again.

  I force myself to look at Taylor. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be around her. This morning’s revelation that she’s known for years that we were siblings has left me sick to my stomach. She knew all along about our parentage and decided to keep it to herself, even though she knew I had more than platonic feelings for her.

  Taylor’s eyes rise to mine and a look flashes across her features. It could be mistaken for longing, but I doubt it. If she’d have told me at ten, twelve, or even thirteen that we were more than best friends, that she was my sister, I’d have been over the moon. Fuck, I spent most of my childhood wishing she was my family, but instead she stayed silent and I found out she was my sibling when I’d been planning for her to be my soulmate. Unable to hold her gaze for a moment longer, resentful anger fills my gut and I look away.

  Without thought or provocation I seek out Rosebud. Her glorious explosion of hair is mussed and windswept and just from a single glance I feel a wash of calm slither over me. I don’t know what it is abo
ut her, but she feels peaceful and relaxed, like her aura emanates soothing juju.

  She looks back at me, confusion wrinkling her expression, but she smiles at me, and I feel more of the tension dissolve from my muscles. “Where’s your cell? I ask her.

  “Mine?” Taylor asks haughtily.

  I ignore her and keep my gaze pinned on Rosebud.

  Rosebud looks to Taylor, then back to me. “Me?” she asks, pointing at herself like I could mean someone else.

  “Yeah, you,” I reply, a ghost of a smile hovering on my lips.

  “Err.” She pats at her jean pocket, then reaches for her purse off the floor where it must have dropped when she and Taylor were hugging. “Oh, err, here it is,” she says, pulling a battered looking cellphone from the depths of her purse and waving it in the air.

  Stepping closer to her, I pluck the cell from her hand. She doesn’t have a passcode so I quickly add my cellphone number to her contacts, then call my phone so I have her number too. “You have my number and I have yours. Call me if you need me.”

  Offering the phone to her, she reaches out to take it and I hold it for a second too long. “Call me,” I say again.

  “Okay,” she breathes, her pupils dilating and her voice barely audible.

  Releasing the cell, I step back, and both women watch as I retreat to the door. I ignore my half-sister, unable to find the resolve to deal with her right at this moment and instead address Rosie. “Rosebud, I’ll speak to you soon.”

  “Err, sure, err, okay,” Rosebud replies, her eyes glancing at Taylor to her right.

  With a last look at my sister and Rosebud, I turn and open the door, leaving the room behind me. A weird sensation of both joy and sadness at leaving consumes me. Before I know what’s happening, the elevator I don’t remember boarding pings, heralding its arrival in the lobby. Exiting, I hurry across the expensive marble floors, unknowingly holding my breath until I step into the bright afternoon air and stride toward Nikki’s car. When she spots me, she starts the engine and I climb in, closing the door behind me.

  We leave the hotel in a cloud of thick, question-filled silence. I can feel Nikki’s eyes looking toward me every few moments and I know she’ll expect answers, but I have no idea where to start. “Are you meeting Dove?” I ask.