by Marie Wathen
I step backwards on my broken shoe and continue retreating watching Sam pushing blood-soaked strands away from Rhys’ face as she continues telling him how much she loves him, while sobbing uncontrollably.
With minimal thoughts processing beyond how much my existence and being around me hurts others, I run away toward the pitch-black beach behind the club. The roar of the waves crashing against the shores beckons me forward. Reaching the grainy, cold sand, I kick off my shoes and progress forward. Debris from last weekend’s storm liters the ground, but I don’t let it deter me from arriving at the foamy water. I sink to my knees and wail. The waves pull on the long black wig, so I rip the tangled disaster from my head; pins, hair and all.
“Make it all stop,” I scream at the night sky. “Please.” After several minutes of crying and pleading, my voice becomes hoarse and the chill of the night is pushing against my flesh, but it doesn’t compare to the cold I feel inside. I can’t stay here anymore. I’m on my own again. I must leave Willow and draw out whoever it is that wants me, away from the people that I care about. Swiping my hands down my face and smearing off the makeup running down my eyes, I catch a glow in my peripheral. Twisting my head to the left, I spot the source: The Renaissance Castle. Julia never wanted me to visit the castle and even went so far as forbidding me from stepping foot inside. As irony would have it, the castle belongs to me now. I wonder…
Rising up onto my feet, I numbly stagger toward the ill-omened structure. Clearly my evil stepmother was a partner to the hell that has rained down on my life over the past several months. Surely there is information inside Julia’s office that will lead me toward who is actually behind everything, and then possibly got rid of her because she was no longer useful. Just like they will do to me. I climb the rocky path and in a few minutes, I’m scaling the stone wall, surrounding the perimeter. Catching my breath, I lean against the inner wall and glance up at the menacing dwelling. I don’t know how many employees work after hours, but with it nearing dawn, I’m sure some of the staff will begin arriving for work soon. Plus, according to Julia, the suites at the infamous mansion are rarely vacant. There could be nearly a hundred guests asleep inside.
I glance down at my destroyed costume and groan at how inappropriate I look for such a luxurious place. Sneaking inside is my only option for going unnoticed and not having the police called on me. Crossing the large lawn leading toward the side garden, I aim for the shadows, but that’s easier said than done. The place is lit up like a birthday cake on a centennial celebration. Flattening my back against the stone exterior, I move slowly around the side toward the back. I remember seeing a trellis on the upper circle overhang, where I discovered just how uncommitted Marcus truly is to me and our professed love. I bite back the heartache, determined to put an end to the past. If only I can uncover enough evidence that will steer me toward the real bad guys. Their discovery and subsequent arrests will assure me a clean break from Willow…and everyone here.
Finding the intricate wooden lattice on the nearside under the balcony, I grip as high as I can reach and haul myself up, one rung at a time. The silence from inside the castle is accompanied by the roaring waves from the ocean below the overhang directly below me. In no time, I’m wrapping my hand over the second-story handrail curving around the terrace. Peering over, I notice the inside room on this level is dark. I listen for any sound and then leap softly over the edge. Slowly, I creep across the stone pavers until I reach the door. Through the glass, I can see a light on in a hallway beyond the room so I watch from the edge of the door for any signs of life.
Ambulance sirens wail in the distance and my heart convulses for Rhys. “Please, God. Don’t take him because of my transgressions.”
After swiping away more tears, I twist the doorknob and discover it locked. Frustrated with everything always being so damn difficult, I want to scream about how unfair it is. But that’s just what I’ve come to expect. Patting my hand over my left breast, I grin, weakly.
“Finally,” I whisper, thanking God for the tiny break. I pull out my driver’s license and then slip it between the door frame and the door, wedging it against the latch. With force and several determined minutes, it finally pops open and I breathe again.
Tiptoeing into the dimly lit room, I gently press the door closed behind me while I keep my eyes focused on the slightly brighter hallway. Noiselessly, I cross the enormous room and then cautiously peek into the corridor, scanning for anyone looking for intruders. I’m met with an eerie silence. My fingertips glide against the ornate wall paper and across the top of the wainscoting as I wind my way through the second level reaching the staircase. Glancing down, I sigh sorrowfully when my eyes drift toward the alcove where I first met Marcus. I refuse to allow those memories to draw me backwards into the lies. Turning my head the other direction, my eyes trace the dark red carpeted stairs up to the next level. Carefully and quickly, I reach the third floor and look both directions before taking the hallway to the left. Just four doors down, I discover exactly what I was looking for. On the elaborately carved wooden door, I trace my fingers over the metal plaque that reads, Julia Maxwell, Chronicler, before I thrust it open.
The room is clean and tidy, exactly the way she preferred everything in her life. Large binders fill the full wall of shelves behind a grand writing desk, also neatly organized. Making my way over to the large chair pushed precisely into its place, I scan over the items stacked and aligned deliberately, for best access. Anger begins to replace my pain causing something in me to snap. I slam a stack of papers across the desk and then I pull binders from their post on the ledges, scattering them with a raging huff. I don’t stop until every book is off the damn bookcase. Completing my mission to disturb her perfect little world, I slump to the floor, landing on my ass roughly and panting wildly. Raising my heavy lids to observe the destruction, I see a pair of leather loafers stroll toward me, crumpled behind Julia’s desk. At the corner, they stop, finding the cause of all this disarray. No emotions come as I look into Tox’s eyes, staring down at me curiously.
“Are you…okay?”
Sighing, I shake my head and whimper, “No.” I’m falling apart.
He lowers himself down, sitting in front of me and surmises, “I’m thinking that maybe you’re having a bad day.” He smiles sweetly.
“Would it be cliché if I say ‘worst day ever’?” I sniff and push some of the wild hair away from my face.
“Yes, but ‘it is what it is’,” he mocks with his own worn out comeback, winking playfully.
“I just had to get away from there,” I explain my quick escape from Toxic, avoiding eye contact with him because I’m totally embarrassed that my boss found me behaving like a spoiled child. He must have seen me run away from the scene after Sam yelled at me. “Do you know…,” I swallow hard, “…is Rhys going to be okay?”
His eyebrows pinch in slightly, before he slowly shakes his head and says, “No, I don’t know.” He pauses to scan my face intently, like he is just now recognizing me. A slight chill slivers down my spine from the severity of it when he whispers, “Beatrice, why are you here, destroying everything in this office?”
“I’m…” I dig my teeth into my bottom lip nervously, searching for something to connect with in his silver tinted eyes. He tilts his head to the side quizzically, looking like he recognizes my struggle, and that he really wants to hear my problems. Turning away from him, I don’t know why I feel comfortable enough to do it, but I confess, “I’ve been living a life filled with lies and I just can’t do it anymore.” My voice dips, revealing my weakness. “This place has been the only source of solace in my life since I was a kid.” I sniff. “I’ve lost my two best friends and may lose more. I am being chased by someone who wants me dead and will stop at nothing to get me, even going through the ones who are closest to me. I fell in love with a man…” I flick away a stray tear, “…who betrayed me and now…I’m literally all alone, which is ironic really.” He stays silent, allowing me
to vent, keeping his focus on me intently. “I have been pushing people out of my life since I was a teenager and I have finally succeeded. There isn’t anyone left.” I laugh before lowering my voice so quietly that he would have to be purposely trying to hear it. “Truthfully, this castle is all I have left.”
“What?” he growls low. I suck in a stuttering breath, building up my courage before looking up and finding darkening eyes that do not hold one ounce of pity for me. Just the way it should be, because I don’t deserve forgiveness. Oddly, the look on Tox’s face resembles someone in the throes of bloodlust – wide eyes darkening as the seconds tick by, his tongue swiping along his bottom lip and his hands clenching into tight fists.
“What do you mean, Beatrice?” he asks in a controlled and slightly intimidating tone, almost demanding that I explain further.
“Well,” I gulp down my nervousness and then confess, “My real name isn’t Beatrice. And I found out very recently that Vivian Andrews is my grandmother,” I focus on his gray eyes, “She left Renaissance to me.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Morgan
Needing a drink after hearing Marcus’ plans, I stroll into the kitchen and find Gran and Aunt Gretchen, busily preparing a huge meal at two o’clock in the morning. Whenever there is something going on, they dive head-first into cooking, and no one dare mess with them until every item inside the fridge is baked, broiled or glazed. Without making eye contact with the ladies, I reach inside the refrigerator and pluck out a bottle of beer.
“Dear,” Gran calls, “Can I get you something to eat?”
Smiling at the flour mark swiped across her forehead, I shake my head. “No thanks. Do either of you need anything from me?”
Aunt Gretchen sighs, “I haven’t been able to reach Tristan. Do you think you could find him and bring him home for me?”
I blink at her simple request and then pour my drink down the sink. “Of course, I’ll do it now.”
Marcus shouts my name from the hallway before rushing into the kitchen, “Sam called from the hospital. Rhys was struck by a vehicle driving recklessly at the club. They’re rushing him into emergency surgery.”
“Oh dear gracious,” Gran moans, “Will this family catch a break from all of this heartache soon?” That’s an odd remark. Rhys isn’t family, although he has been hanging around a lot lately.
“Morgan,” Marcus calls my name gravely, motioning with his thumb behind him. “We need to leave.”
“Sure,” I agree, peeking over at my aunt and offering a promising wink before turning back to him and following, “Gretchen wants me to hunt down Tristan. Do you want to ride together and make a stop off at the club before going to the hospital?”
“Tristan will be fine, but Breesan isn’t,” he tells me when we reach the garage.
“What are you talking about?”
He stops next to my motorcycle. “She was with Rhys during the accident. Sam said that when she pulled into the parking lot she found Rhys lying in front of the club and then Breesan came running around the corner. Sam yelled at her and put the blame of everything that’s happened on Breesan.”
“Fuck,” I hiss through clenched teeth while pulling on my helmet.
“Worse than that, Sam said she took off toward the ocean. I have a guy going to her house in case she shows up there. Kole and Tac are searching the area, but they can’t find her. Raithe is heading to her mother’s hotel. I doubt she’ll go there, but I wanted to cover all of the bases.”
Kicking my leg over the leather seat, I shout, “Where is she, Marcus?”
“There’s only one place I think she would go,” he says, jerking open his Jeep door. “The castle.” His phone rings and he cusses glaring down at the caller ID. “Son of a bitch. I’ve got to take this. It looks like I’m finally getting that call I’ve been expecting. Go ahead, I’ll be right behind.”
“Try keeping up,” I joke, but he doesn’t laugh.
Just before answering the call, he jumps into his vehicle and shouts, “Morgan, don’t go in without me.” I nod and start up my bike.
Rolling down the driveway, I pause at the gate, waiting for it to open. I twist around, expecting to find Marcus, but he’s still sitting at the top of the driveway. Apparently, his phone call is going to delay him helping me find Breesan. After the steal gate slides open, I face forward again and then cross through the opening. A small sports car is parked along the edge of the road, like the driver is watching the mansion. Snaking my way around, I catch a glimpse of dark brown hair and light green eyes staring right at me.
Candy. What the hell is she doing staking out my house? I gun the throttle and streak past her. Looks like Kole isn’t man enough for that little hellion and she’s here pursuing more than a friendship with me. Damn, I just can’t get through to her that we will never happen again.
I catch the headlights of Marcus’s Jeep reflecting in my side mirror and accelerate toward the mountain overlooking the ocean. Impressively, he catches up with me easier than I thought possible considering the speeds that I’m driving through downtown. The last traffic light at the edge of town stops me and I turn to check on Marcus. Really, I just want to give him props for hanging. But when I release a handlebar and glance over my left shoulder, I find Candy’s little coupe about a fifty yards behind, rolling up on my tailpipe.
“Damn, she’s following me now?” I grunt, royally pissed with any chick thinking that stalking is cool. The red light changes to green and I hit the gas so hard the front tire pops of the pavement, throwing me into chaos for two seconds before making contact again jarringly. I rocket away while watching the side mirrors for her to catch me. I pass Club Toxic and notice a fairly large crowd gathered out front with a couple of police cruisers blocking the entrance.
Tristan is among the group, and spotting me screaming by on my Ducati, he throws up a hand, saluting like an idiot instead of a waving. I feel bad about not stopping to tell him about the plane crashing during the return flight from Canada. His feelings about his father mirror the bitterness I have toward my dad almost exactly, well, it did before the drugging. And although he hasn’t admitted to actually loving Elise, he may still be upset about his fiancé being missing and possibly dead. I didn’t have anything nice to say about any of them, but still death is so final.
After another couple of minutes, I’m racing up the s-curves on the private road that leads up to the Renaissance Castle. The glow of the new moon ripples it’s reflection off of the oceanic horizon, making the sky appear like a tiny light bulb is being devoured by the darkness.
I park in the circle drive in the front entryway and wait for my brother.
Fifteen minutes I wait, but there is no sign of anyone coming up the mountain. I’m getting angrier by the second, too. Whatever is delaying him better be worth allowing Breesan to remain this long in the state of guilt because of what happened to Rhys. In the short amount of time that I’ve known her, I guarantee that she is filled with shame and is falling apart.
“Fuck this,” I drop my helmet and jacket onto the seat, and then jog up the steps. I thrust open the front door, and silence greets me inside the large foyer. I glance around the open area, uncertain of where to begin looking for Breesan. Rushing forward, I consider taking the stairs up, but I’m drawn toward the ballroom where I first met her. Quickly, I tear into the room, finding it dark and empty. “Of course she won’t be in the first place that I look,” I grumble out loudly, not caring if anyone catches me here. Twisting around, I head back to point-A when I notice a door behind one of the arched staircases standing partially open. “Yes!” I glance toward the heavens and say, “Thank you.” Then I pull the doorknob and see a set of steps that lead down to the underground level.
I flip on the light switch and charge down the stairs, finding a semi-dark corridor at the bottom leading in more than one direction. “Shit, more damn choices,” I complain staring between them and then beg, “Which way do I go?” Knowing that, just like most women I
know, she probably won’t make this easy on me, I pull my cell out using it for better lighting and decide to take the first passage way on my left. I will continue this pattern until I do find her.
“Breesan,” I call at the entrance to the fourth long corridor, out of breath and my heart beating wildly. Tired and frustrated, I grunt and slam my palm against the archway. “Where are you?” The lights flicker followed by a light buzzing sound. My head snaps toward the end of the hall, so I walk. At the back wall, I glance around between the closed doors and another corridor on the right that is completely blacked out. “There’s no way she came all the way down here, alone.” I decide to text Marcus and find out where the hell he is. “Dammit, no signal.” I hold it out and up in the air, turning a circle and hoping for one bar. “Nothing. Not even phone waves will come way the fuck down here.” I press my back against the wall, staring down the dark corridor.
“Maybe I should just go back up and wait for him, like he asked me to do.”
Shuffling and an ominous creaking sound echoes from far away. Suddenly my hearing jumps to supersonic and I stretch my neck, turning from side to side and waiting for the sound again. Dripping sounds, and footsteps. I step over to the unlit passage, holding my cell up and checking it out. More stairs. “Okay, I can do this,” I claim, swallowing down apprehension on what could be waiting below. “Breesan, you better know that me coming all the way down here, in the pitch black belly of this fucking castle, proves just how much I love you.” My footsteps stall at the top of the steps and I laugh. “I do love you,” I confirm to myself and chuckle once more. “All right,” I stiffen my back and encourage, “Let’s do this!”