Exposed
Page 17
* * *
Over the next several days, I get into a routine of sleeping until seven and being at breakfast by eight. Marjorie and Maclock keep me company while I eat and then I don’t see them again until tea at three o’clock. When I’m not with them, I’m watching the news, sleeping, fighting off a broken heart, and avoiding everything and everyone else.
I’m also taking a hard look at the money. As far as I can tell, Luka hasn’t made any attempts to shut off my account, but I’m not sure if that will last. In the evenings, I don’t eat past teatime and I take a close look at the things I’ve invested in over the years—mostly not knowing what I was doing but trying to build a portfolio beyond what my father gave me. Turns out, it hasn’t done half bad.
I set up a meeting with my financial advisor, something I’ve only done a handful of times. Our meeting is short and to the point.
“I’d like to close this account here,” I point to the account in question, “and put the money in a regular savings account.”
“But it’s doing so well. Are you sure you want to do that? It won’t come close to earning the interest…”
“I’m well aware,” I cut him off.
“Very well. I’ll see to this immediately.”
I nod and see myself out. The money is moved within the hour.
* * *
On Friday of that week, my mother calls me, hysterical. She’s called all week, but I’ve been ignoring her. When she leaves a message and I can barely understand a word she’s saying, I call her back.
“Your father is sentenced to life in prison with no parole.”
I don’t say anything and she stops crying and sniffs.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?”
“Tell me the truth, Mother. Whose idea was it to set me up? And which one of you came up with the bright idea to humiliate me in front of the courtroom? The more I’ve thought about it, the more I see it for what it was. Was it yours when I didn’t fight for you with Luka? Or was it Father’s?”
“What are you driveling on about?” she huffs.
“You know my testimony was pointless. We both heard all the proof they had against him. It was payback and I fell for it.”
She sighs and chuckles. “Well, it was too easy. You’ve given us so much material to work with over the years. We didn’t even have to try—the prosecution was all over it. The pictures are right there at anyone’s fingertips. How does it feel to know you got played by your mother…again?”
“I think you better make sure to keep Benswei happy. If you lose him, you’re all out of options.”
“When you have beauty like ours, you’ll never really be poor.”
I grit my teeth together and grip the phone tightly. “Beauty is fleeting, Mother. It’s only a matter of time until you’re old and no one will want you. I’ll be surprised if Benswei lasts with this latest news of Father. He can find another beautiful woman elsewhere…one with money and less baggage. Don’t come looking for a handout when that day comes.”
She laughs and the sound sets my teeth on edge. “You worry about yourself, sweetheart. You made your bed and now you must lie in it.”
“At least promise that Father will keep his word about Elias and take the men off of him. I did my part.”
“I hope the next time your father sends someone after Elias, Elias doesn’t get back up. Maybe then you’ll think about what you’ve done.”
I hang up and lean over, my hands shaking. I shake them out and put my head between my knees, breathing deeply. The enormity of what I did hits me in full force, and it was all for nothing. If my father had gotten out of prison due to my testimony, I would’ve never forgiven myself. Her threat about Elias is just further proof that I have to act quickly.
A part of me still hoped there was evidence I didn’t know about that would clear my father.
And everything in me hoped he’d keep his word and clear Elias, give him a clean slate.
Lesson learned.
My father is right where he belongs. I only wish my mother was in there with him.
* * *
That night, Alex texts me right before I turn off the light.
Alex: My aunt is all about your story. She’ll contact you tomorrow.
You won’t regret this. I’m going to make things right, Alex.
Alex: I think you need to just stop. Stop your plotting, stop running, stop hiding…
Working on that. I owe you one.
Alex: You owe me about two dozen, but who’s counting?
* * *
Constrid Whitfield calls me the next morning, sounding like she’s had at least six cups of coffee before my one.
“I hear you’re willing to give me an exclusive.” I hear her pull on a vape and then exhale into the phone. I’ve seen her do this a hundred times during video interviews and can picture her tapping one hand briskly on the table. Made of steel, she must have a few nerves in there somewhere, to be so extreme with her vices.
We arrange a meeting for the next week and I go down to breakfast worried that this isn’t enough to turn everything around.
Dear Elias,
I’ve watched you flirt with other girls throughout your senior year and I keep hoping you’ll throw even a single glance at me to let me know it’s not real, that I’m still the one you love, that you’re just biding your time.
Every boy I talk to is just a place card for you.
Every now and then, you act like your old self and talk to me when you run into me by the pool or when I’m in town, but I haven’t been back to your house since I saw you kissing Eliza by our boulder.
I hate you for that.
I hate you so hard that I love you all over again.
Because if I can feel this much when the rest of the time I feel like a numb shell of nothing, that has to count for something, right?
I was grounded last week because I got caught by photographers in a club, drunk. My parents are livid that I wasn’t more discreet. Neither of them asked if I was okay or how I got in.
Older men hit on me all the time and sometimes I think of going home with them…just to see if one of them could make me feel anything but dead inside.
We’re supposed to meet Nadia and her brother Alex for a holiday in a place just outside of Yuman. Alex is always saying I should be with him and I just laugh. He seems like such a boy compared to you. And even though it kills me to see you with other girls, I don’t know what I’ll do when you leave for university.
Watching you live your life as if I don’t exist is like putting a knife straight into my heart.
But it’s better than not seeing you at all.
Mara
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Elias
I’ve been searching for Mara for days. It’s bleeding into everything I do. I can’t focus for shit. Gentry has finally gotten into town and I haven’t even seen him yet. I’m being a shit friend and a shit employee. Even now, Luka clears his throat, waiting for me to respond to whatever he’s just said.
“How are you okay cutting her off like that?” I ask him, interrupting him from what—I have not a fucking clue.
Luka tosses his papers to the side and stands, walking to the window. “Jadon and Ava are coming tonight. Eden is long overdue for a visit with her sister, and Jadon wants to make sure she gets here safely. Caulder Farthing is becoming brazen in his attempts to take Farrow’s oil without negotiating first. Jadon has some theories he wants to discuss.” He turns to look at me. “I can’t think about Mara right now. She’s a big girl. She can take care of herself. And I have a guard on her if she can’t,” he adds.
I exhale loudly, relieved he’s at least done that. “Where is she?”
“Why do you want to know? To answer your earlier question, you’ve been cutting her off for years. Leading her on one minute and shredding her heart to bits the next. I hardly think you’re in a position to question my decisions. I don’t know what she’s thinking after the court’s decision
, but my guess is she’s hiding out until this blows over. When she’s ready to come crawling back, I’ll listen.”
I roll my eyes. Luka has always been an arrogant son of a bitch. “I love you, but God, what a puff of wind you are. Listen to yourself. When she’s ready to crawl back…”
“She lied and went against me in a court of law. All that about Father trying to get Farthing to be peaceful? You know she was lying.”
I pound my hand on his desk and his eyes narrow. “She’s your sister. You know her. You begged her to trust you and she finally did. What made her do an about-face?”
There’s a knock on the door and Basile peeks inside. “Sorry, I’m late for the meeting. I was detained.”
Neither of us spare him a glance.
Luka stalks over and gets in my face. “You need to cool down. We have other things to worry about right now. My sister will come later.”
I swallow my pride and back off, but inside I’m fuming. The only thing quelling my anger these days is fighting. I’ve won every fight and so has Brienne. It’s lining my pockets. Tito came through and I was able to pay off a few things. Just enough to make me breathe a little easier.
But day and night and every moment in between, I’m thinking about Mara. The way she said she was letting me go—I hear her voice saying those words over and over again, each time like a brand new blow.
Since the day I met her, she’s never given up on me. I don’t know if I can survive this world if she truly has now.
Luka and I part with a handshake and a pat on the back. It’s still tense between us, but I know I can’t change his mind. Not when he has that look in his eyes.
I just need to find her, see for myself that she’s okay.
Brienne stops me on the way out. “I know where she is,” she whispers.
I stop and turn to face her. “How?”
“Harmi knows the driver that took her, Wells.”
I stare at her, dying for any information she might have.
“Elias, you’re crazy in love with her. Can we stop pretending like that’s not true? I thought you’d want to know—”
“I do want to know. Brienne…I’ve been running for a long time. I don’t know how to stop. I’ve established a lot of bad habits…” I put my hand on the wall and lean on my arm. “The thing is, I’ll never deserve her, and I would probably be better off alone. But it’s time I stop running from the truth.”
She swallows hard and then leans forward. Her voice is as gentle as the breeze outside. “Maybe you can stop running right into her arms.”
I lift my head up and grin. “Who knew you were such a romantic?”
* * *
I find Harmi and he gives me directions to the inn. I recognize the name and can’t believe that’s where she’s been all this time. Makes sense why I haven’t been able to find her. I was looking at all the swanky hotels and restaurants. I even staked out one night at Benswei’s house, waiting to see if she showed up. All I saw was Benswei and Cece entertaining night after night. Cece seems to be surviving the news of Titus just fine.
I pull up to the inn an hour later, after stopping by the house for another shower. A woman greets me when I step inside and when I tell her I’m there to see Mara, she shakes her head.
“She’s not…seeing any more visitors.”
“She’s had visitors?”
The woman just stares at me, but she can’t withhold the truth from those eyes, no matter how hard she tries. They’re round as saucers.
I check my watch. Three o’clock. A man hurries past, carrying a tray of delicacies and I feel a rumble of hunger.
“That smells delicious. Do you have a restaurant here? A bakery?”
“Only for guests.” She sniffs and looks down at her desk, trying to appear busy.
“That’s unfortunate. I haven’t had a pastry in six months.” I pat my stomach and whisper, “Trying to stay fit.” I shake my head.
Her eyes soften. “I don’t suppose it’d hurt if I just go grab one for you—my husband makes the best—” She looks past me and I turn around.
Mara is standing there, her face clean of makeup and in short shorts, looking so much like the girl I fell in love with, I nearly fall at her feet.
“What are you doing here?” she whispers.
“I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you? I thought you might take it hard about your dad…”
She bites her bottom lip and nods. “I’m disappointed in him, but I’m glad he’s paying for what he did.”
I frown at her, still confused by her topsy-turvy attitude about her parents, and about Luka, but I decide none of that matters right now. I clear my throat and am about to speak when she jumps in.
“If you could please not let anyone know where I am, I’d appreciate it.”
“I think Luka knows.”
“You’re probably right.”
“The woman said you’d had visitors.”
Surprise flickers across her face and her cheeks turn pink. “Alex.” She clears her throat and gets a defiant look.
“Alex,” I repeat. “Right.” I nod and swallow the hurt that bubbles inside.
I’ve lost her and I have no one to blame but myself.
“Listen, if you need anything—anything at all, day or night—call me, okay? I have plenty of room at the house. If the paparazzi discovers you, you need a shoulder, whatever it is…I want to help.”
She drops her crossed arms and clasps her hands together, looking uncomfortable. “I appreciate that.”
We feel like strangers who didn’t spend our childhood finishing each other’s sentences, strangers who mean nothing to one another.
The woman who runs the inn drops something and mutters an apology before leaving the room.
Mara clears her throat and I feel the dread building in my chest.
“Goodbye, Elias,” she says, turning toward the dining room.
“Wait.” I reach out for her and only brush against her elbow.
She turns to look at me.
“I never meant what I said about forgetting our history. I’m sorry I ever said that. You were the best thing about my life and I’ll never forget you and what we’ve had.”
Her teeth pull in her lower lip and she takes a deep breath. Her eyes drop to the ground and she whispers, “Thank you, Elias.”
She looks like she wants to say more and I lean in closer. Her breath falters and her lips part, eyes closing for a brief moment. I put my hand on her cheek and her eyes flutter open.
“Why do I feel as if this is a goodbye?” I ask, thumb brushing over her lips.
Her voice is a low, husky purr. “Because that’s what you’ve wanted and I’m finally in agreement.”
I shake my head and put my other hand on her waist, pulling her closer. “Why can’t I let you go?”
She doesn’t say anything and I can’t stand that she’s giving up on me. I’ve forced her to this, but now that it’s happening, it feels so wrong.
“You’ll always be the fire in my veins,” I tug her face closer to mine, “the drive behind everything I do, the heartbreak in every failure…you have been my purpose, even when I try to deny myself of you.”
“Elias,” she whimpers.
I can’t stop myself—or the truth of the matter is, I don’t want to stop myself—I claim her mouth, hoping even if only for a moment, she’ll know I am hers. She’s hesitant at first, fragile, and I know I’m the reason for her pain. I’ll always be the reason for her pain, but I’m too selfish to stop. I bleed into her; if she’s hearing me at all, she feels my surrender. I feel the moment she gives in. She pulls my hair with both hands and hangs on for dear life as she assaults my lips with the passion I’ve been missing.
I moan into her mouth and it makes her falter. She pulls away, chest rising up and down, and her lips a fiery red.
“Give me tonight,” she whispers. “Just one more night.”
I nod and when she turns around, I follow.
The whole ride up to her room, I stare at her and she stares back, never wavering. I wish she could see inside my thoughts to know the conflict I’m in, but I’m sure she’s in her own. I know this will only make it harder to leave, but I’m willing to deal with the torment later if it means a night with her.
When we reach her room, she closes the door behind me and reaches for the buttons on my shirt.
“I’m staying all night,” I tell her.
“Let’s see how many ways we can do this,” she says, and I’m instantly hard.
I decide right then to not look at this as a goodbye. It’ll be too bittersweet and I want her to only feel pleasure, not sadness.
“I can think of at least a dozen ways I want you, so we better get started.” I grin and undo the button on her shorts while she pulls my shirt off.
Her shirt is next to go and I give her a little push into the wall before I lower my head to her breast and suck her nipple until she whimpers. She holds onto my head and I pull her legs up around my waist then turn to drop her on the bed. I admire the way her breasts jiggle when she lands and she looks up at me with all the adoration I’ve missed seeing for so long now.
“You’re looking at me the way you used to when we were younger.”
“How’s that?”
“Like I can do no wrong.”
I put my knee on the bed and plant a kiss on her stomach.
“I know you’re not perfect, Elias. Compared to me, though, you’re a saint.”
I stop bothering to come up with a response and pull her scrap of lace down with my teeth. When my tongue flicks across her, she gasps and we don’t bother with conversation again. I worship her with every lick and tug and suck and she bends to me, letting go of every reservation.
“You’re so beautiful,” I whisper into her over and over, and then I widen her lips and drive into her with my tongue until she screams my name.