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Freeing Destiny (Fate #2)

Page 20

by Faith Andrews


  But time and time again I was shot down. Never in a mean way. No, perfect Stella was too gracious for that. Even still, no matter how polite her rejections and my brother’s subtle flip offs were, I felt scorned.

  Yeah, I probably deserved it. But then, what the hell was the point of such a thing as forgiveness? I hadn’t killed anyone. I wasn’t a total psycho. So what? I got carried away with a crush and caused some drama. Big deal.

  I apologized. Numerous times. Multiple ways. But no one was willing to give me a chance and it fucking irked the shit out of me that my own flesh and blood was siding with one of them!

  I had no one. Not one person on my side. Poor me. It was a tune I sang often, but this time it felt hopeless. Maybe I’d gone too far? Had I pushed everyone’s limits? No one followed after me when I left. It was like they were all better off without me. And now I was vying for their attention and they didn’t give a rat’s ass.

  My parents had left just as I returned to spend some time at their estate in Versailles. Mom still had family there, and even though she had three children here, she liked to spend most of October and November there. I guess my mother wasn’t exactly fit for mothering. Another reason I felt closer to Daddy. He understood me and while he wasn’t the most paternal guy around, he’d do anything for his little girl. Now that I thought about it, he was the root of my problem. Silver spoon syndrome. Spoiled daughter complex. Whatever you wanted to call it, it was ultimately Daddy’s fault that I always wound up getting my way.

  And now my parents were part of the army of people who were pissed at me for what I did. At first I worried about being cut off financially, but it was worse than that. They didn’t cut me off, they wrote me off. I was a problem they didn’t want to deal with. Someone they needed time away from. They chastised me like a child in a timeout, except this was no way to teach me a lesson. It only added fuel to the fire. Brimstone and ash. I locked this up in my mental jar of wrongdoings against me.

  How could my own mother and father practically disown me? I wasn’t as heinous as everyone liked to believe. I had a fucking heart, goddamn it, and it was so very lonely at the moment. Isolated and exiled. I was guilty of plaguing my so called loved ones with my childish drama and now paying for it in a twisted form of solitary confinement.

  My parents were on the other side of the world, ignoring me. My only brother wouldn’t give me the time of day because he was spending all of it with her. And my sister, Emma—she was another story. Good girl. Sweet as cherry pie. But jealous as sin. I’d always been the prettier sister and it ate at her. She rarely brought me into her circle of friends and almost always kept me at a distance. Funny enough, the only time she did bring me around, it wound up in chaos. Caleb and the Edwards girls. I’d never live that shit down, would I?

  But that still wasn’t a reason for Emma to ignore my phone calls and my plea for companionship. She was my fucking sister! Nina and Stella weren’t! They had each other and, dare I say it, if there was one thing I envied about those two, it was their unbreakable bond.

  When I stopped to think about it, it burned a nagging hole right in the pit of my stomach. With my phone clutched in a tight grip since receiving Jack’s dismissive text, I tried calling Emma. Again.

  “Hello?” she answered, her tone laced with irritation.

  “Did I catch you at a bad time?” I still hadn’t gotten used to her flippancy.

  “Not really. What’s up, Aubrey?”

  In other words, get to the point. God forbid she wanted to shoot the shit with her sister. I didn’t want to push my luck; it was the first time she’d answered in a week, so I blurted it out. “There’s a Halloween party tonight at Kamikaze’s. Want to come? You can bring—”

  “No,” she cut me off. “Aubrey, how many times do I have to tell you? I can’t do this right now. The wounds are still fresh.”

  “Wounds? What wounds? I didn’t do anything to you, Emma. The Caleb thing had nothing to do with you.”

  “And that’s why you’re delusional.” She laughed. “You never realize how the things you do affect all the people around you. You’re so blinded by getting your way and then stomping your feet in a tantrum when you don’t that you miss the big picture.”

  “Oh, yeah, and what’s that?” Her bitchy attitude made my blood boil, but I needed to hear it from her. Why did she have such a stick up her ass?

  “You’re impossible, Aubrey! Plain and simple. I know it sounds harsh, but when you’re not around it’s easier to breathe. I don’t feel like I have to look over my shoulder at every turn. What you did to Nina and Stella—it’s reprehensible. They were like sisters to me. Our friendship was perfect and you polluted the whole thing with your bullshit. I’m guilty by association, even if they don’t come straight out and say it.”

  Seriously? I was so taken aback, I had to sit down. “Then how do you explain Jack?” I mean, honestly. The Edwards and Caleb were okay to talk to Jack—another sibling guilty by blood ties—but Emma was off limits? It made no sense.

  In a curt tone, she bit back. “Jack didn’t try to defend you. I did. And it cost me my friendships with two of the most special people in my life. No one trusts you, Aubrey, and because I gave you even the slightest advantage in a fucked up situation, it made them rethink my loyalty. It doesn’t matter. I don’t have to explain myself. I just—I need a break from you.”

  “You just had one! I was gone for months!”

  “It wasn’t long enough. I’m sorry, Aubrey. I don’t trust you and I’m still angry. I’m working on rebuilding a relationship with Stella and Nina, and now I have Simon.”

  My blood was past the boiling point. Knowing her persistence, she’d be back to besties with Nina and Stella in no time. She had a new boyfriend to keep her warm at night. My brother spoke to her daily and my parents referred to her as the golden child. But what about me? “I’m your sister!” I cried, hoping to garner some pity.

  “I’m sorry, but you’ve never acted like one, Aubrey. Not unless you were forced. I have to go. I’m not happy that it has to be this way, but for now it does. In other words, don’t call me, I’ll call you.”

  She hung up and I nearly threw up. Anger throttled my body and rolled through me in waves of nausea. Instead of letting it get the best of me, I expelled the fury with a loud, throat-burning scream! “BITCH! What a fucking BITCH!!!!”

  How could they all do this to me? Everyone was overreacting. This was ridiculous.

  When my rage simmered to mere hurt, I paced the empty room, yet again. Walking through the hallway to get a drink from the kitchen, I scanned the wall of framed photographs. With a swipe of my hand, I smacked each one off and onto the floor with a loud crash. Frames and glass everywhere. One filled with a shot of me, Jack, and Emma as kids in Aspen. A baby picture of Emma. A toddler snapshot of Jack. A dance recital print of me. Each of our high school graduation portraits. A family memento from Christmas in New York City one year.

  What a fucking farce!

  And this wasn’t even our home, for Christ’s sake! Talk about putting on a show. Every one of my parents’ properties had a wall like this. A museum lined with imposters. Forged happiness. Imitations of togetherness. Bull-fucking-shit!

  I walked over the mess I made; glass and plastic crunched underneath my slippers. “Fuck you!” I shouted at the pile scattered on the floor. I hated them all. But even still, I longed for something more than I currently had. Which was nothing.

  My brain felt as scattered as the shards of glass that lined the hallway. I felt sorry for myself. As pitiful as that sounded, I couldn’t help it. I was a pretty girl, yet I couldn’t keep a guy for longer than a month. Any girlfriends I managed to make never stuck around because they were jealous wenches. And the people I was supposed to be able to rely on most—my family—were done dealing with the dramas of my past.

  How was I supposed to move on and make a new start if no one was around to pardon me?

  “Fuck ’em all!” I threw my hands i
n the air and sauntered into the large bedroom Mom had furnished for me five years ago. I had to focus my anger elsewhere. I flung open the closet doors and searched for something to wear. I’d find a makeshift costume and hit up that bartender dude I hooked up with at last year’s Halloween party. We’d met up a few times since. Nothing special. No questions asked. He was a good time. Had cool friends. Hopefully he’d be free and willing to hang out with the Davis Family Monster. I needed something, or someone, to get my mind off feeling sorry for myself.

  One week before Thanksgiving

  “Are you serious?” I cried. “You’re going there for Thanksgiving? What about me? Don’t you want to be with your family for the holidays?” Even as the words fell from my lips, I knew they were ridiculous. Who was I kidding? I could count on one hand how many times I’d spoken to Jack since I came back. And forget about seeing him. He was off limits. Apparently, he was soaking up whatever was left of his time with Stella and she didn’t approve of him spending any of it with me.

  “Aubrey, come on.” He didn’t need to elaborate. It was obvious I was so not a priority.

  “Well, then.” I gulped. Tears gathered in my eyes, at the base of my throat, heated up my insides. “What am I supposed to do? I can’t be alone on Thanksgiving! That’s just—” Pathetic. Tragic. Heartless.

  “Too bad. That’s what it is. Why don’t you fly out to the estate? It would be a surprise for Mom and Dad.”

  I noticed how he didn’t say a nice surprise. He didn’t use an adjective because the only one suitable would not be positive. “Yeah, they’d just love that. They’re not talking to me either, don’t you remember?” I collapsed onto my bed, pulled at the hair at the crown of my head. “Whatever, Jack. I guess this is all part of my punishment.”

  “No one’s punishing you, Aubrey. You did this to yourself. I hate to break it to you, but you fucked up and now you have to face the consequences. You’ve always been a drama queen, but you crossed the line when you pulled that wild stunt with Caleb and Gabby. It messed with all of us in different ways, but we moved on because you were out of sight and out of mind. And now you’re back and you think you deserve everyone’s forgiveness? It doesn’t work that way. Forgiveness takes time. We all need time and you’re not letting us have it because you keep trying to push your way back into a place that you’re not welcome. Especially with Stella. You need to stop texting her, stop trying to call her, end it. She’s not comfortable with the situation and I’m not so sure she ever will be.” I could always rely on Jack for one thing—the truth. He didn’t beat around the bush, and he wasn’t the type to spare a person’s feelings just to make them happy. And guess what? The truth fucking hurt!

  It hurt when Caleb told me point blank that he would never have feelings for someone like me.

  It hurt when my sister and brother chose Nina and Stella over me.

  It hurt when my father scolded me and wrote me off for potentially wrecking his credibility.

  It hurt to lie in bed every night without a single soul to speak to.

  I hurt! There was no other way around it. I was miserable. Alone. And now I was furious.

  “Fine, Jack! Have it your way,” I shouted through watery eyes. “I won’t bother you anymore. Happy Fucking Thanksgiving. Don’t choke on your turkey leg!”

  I ended the call and flung the phone, skidding it across the king-sized bed.

  No more Mr. Nice Guy, I told myself. This was a new breaking point. I tried but unfortunately I failed. Whatever. I was done caring about any of them. It was me, myself, and I and that meant I had to do what was best for me.

  I would not spend this holiday by myself. No fucking way! That would be the lowest of low. An all-time rock bottom. Aubrey Davis was too good to go it alone. I’d show them. They abandoned me when I needed them most. At a time when I was ready to make amends and clear my conscience. Guess the damage was done. But what they failed to remember time and time again was that they couldn’t keep me down for long. I always found a way to stick it to them.

  This time was no different. With my ego restored and the devastating sadness morphed into anger, I had an idea. It wasn’t necessarily a good one, but it would definitely get me the attention I so desperately sought.

  “What a fucking idiot,” I mumbled as I stuck the key in the lock and turned the knob without a problem. “His head is really up his ass—or that bitch’s.” Jack wasn’t happy when I showed up at his apartment unannounced that first night. He barked about changing the locks, but obviously never got around to it. Whatever. It made things easier for me. I thought for sure I’d need to pick the lock or sweet talk a locksmith.

  Mission accomplished! I felt like a super sleuth. Adrenaline pumped through my veins as I tiptoed around the dark apartment. No one was home. Perfect. I’d get what I needed and get the fuck out. Finding it was my only minor roadblock. Everyone did things electronically these days. The chances of a paper trail were slim to none, but I tried my luck anyway.

  Once inside the empty spare room, I flicked on the light and fumbled around the desk in Jack’s office. I sifted through neatly organized bills and notes, but nothing caught my eye. I was about to head into the bedroom to see what I could find there when my hand slipped, tapped the mouse of the computer and brought it back to life.

  The screen illuminated the room and sparked a smile on my face. It was a pink covered Mac with a screensaver of Jack and Stella at the beach. Definitely not my brother’s computer. Which meant it was hers! Jackpot! This was the mother lode for a sneaky spy like me. I sidled into the desk chair and placed shaky fingers on the keyboard. I prayed there was no security password and to my utter shock—my wicked prayer was answered. Hallelujah!

  After a minute or two of snooping, I found it. Exactly what I was looking for. Her flight info and itinerary. I took a screenshot of everything I needed and put everything back in its place.

  Step one was completed. Only a few more to go.

  Two days before Thanksgiving

  I should have been exhausted. I’d been camping out in a rental car, a block away from Jack’s place. But excitement swam inside my body and kept me on my toes. Stella should be calling for an Uber right about now. It was almost show time. I waited it out a few more minutes, tucked my long curls into a Dodger’s cap, and stared at the silhouette of Stella through Jack’s living room window. When her movements stilled and the lighting dimmed again, I restarted the car and pulled up to the apartment.

  My timing couldn’t have been more perfect. Without making eye contact, I turned my head, popped the trunk and thanked my lucky stars that I’d pulled this off. Stella threw her luggage into the trunk, slammed it shut, and then slid into the backseat. She never looked up at me. Instead, she fiddled with her iPod as she announced her destination.

  I took a deep, calming breath and hit the gas. I started out in the direction of the airport, so not to be conspicuous, and when I was certain she was in her own little pathetic world, I made the turn toward my parents’ house where I’d been staying in Palo Alto.

  It was another deserted yet fully furnished, property owned by my father. No one had taken note of where I was so it was the perfect place to hide out. I’d take her there until I figured out what to do with her.

  Looked like I wouldn’t be alone for Thanksgiving after all.

  Jack—Thanksgiving

  It had now been thirty six hours since we reported her missing. We were still waiting on the goddamn manifest because of the slow as shit pace everyone adopted during the holidays and the fact no one suspected foul play in Stella’s disappearance. I, on the other hand, had a hard time wrapping my head around that. She hadn’t run away. She had to have missed her flight. But it was a waiting game.

  The investigators had protocol to follow and I was adamant about expediting the manifest. But unless there was an alleged criminal action associated with her absence, everyone had to assume she simply missed her flight or changed her mind.

  I wasn’t buying
it. I knew Stella. She had nothing to run from. Everyone she loved was here. Waiting for her return. Where would she have gone? Were there parts of her life I hadn’t gotten to know in our short time together? There were so many questions, so much confusion, I could hardly see straight. I also hadn’t slept in God knew how long. It was safe to say, I was a certifiable mess.

  Regardless of what anyone else thought, I had my own plans on how to handle things. They could all sit and wait for her to show up, but I couldn’t just linger as if I wasn’t worried sick. I had to get back home. Maybe she was there. But my intention to get my ass back to California was grounded by a fucking storm! Yes, a full-blown, Nor’easter type snowstorm in November. I’ll have to get over my hatred for the white, slushy shit when I move here with Stella.

  Hopeful thoughts like that kept me going. I had to remain positive. She was missing, not dead. Misplaced, not forsaken. I would find her no matter what it took, but I was currently at a standstill because of uncontrollable forces.

  “Jack, you okay?” Gabriella looked worse than I felt but still found it in her to console me with a squeeze around my shoulders.

  “No, of course not, but there’s no use in complaining about it. We need to take action. That’s what we need to do. I have to get out of here somehow.”

  The pained glint of grief that showed in her eyes tugged at my heart. She’d been through so much. It was cruel of whoever was responsible for this to put her through such torture. Whether it be God, Stella herself, or someone else, I wanted them to pay for putting that kind of anguish on Gabriella’s face.

  Recognizing her sorrow, Caleb came to her side. We shared a quick nod of acknowledgement and I continued pacing.

 

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