Ricochet (Addicted #1.5)

by Krista Ritchie

  “Shouldn’t you be a voiceless mannequin?” he retorts back.

  “Touché.” With this, she takes another bite, but since her dessert is a pile of goo, she steals a piece of mine.

  I can’t concentrate on Daisy anymore, not when Rose springs from her chair, following my mother who suddenly stands and motions to her with an icy finger.

  I scoot from my chair, tailing them as they head towards a lounge room for special guests, meaning family. A presence weaves behind me, keeping up with my pace. I glance over my shoulder and see the All-American build, the swept brown hair, the ugly blue eyes—I hate him. I wish he’d leave me alone.

  But Aaron Wells isn’t going to stop me from being there for my sister. Not when she’s been around for me. I shut the door behind me as I enter the lounge area, which is filled with buttoned couches, a mini-bar, and a couple queen-style chairs. Nothing too fancy except the chandelier in the center and the gold wallpaper.

  Jonathan Hale and my father sit on one of the navy couches, whiskeys in hand. They only look up when I drift farther into the room and away from the door. Aaron should be here in a matter of minutes.

  I try not to approach Lo’s father. I don’t want to talk to him without Loren present. Because he wouldn’t want me to. My dad keeps him in a long discussion about stocks, but I feel Jonathan’s hot gaze on my body, most likely glaring.

  Rose stands still, fingers clenched around her champagne glass, full now. A new one again? She seems utterly poised, though. A string of pearls choke my mother’s bony neck, and she has hair nearly identical to my sister’s dark chocolate. Maybe Daisy’s comment in the car has been stirring Rose too—about being so similar to our mother. No one in their right mind would want to be compared to her.

  “What is your problem?” our mother snaps. “You’ve been incredibly rude to your date. Olivia Barnes heard you from across the room, scolding him like he was a child.”

  “He is a child,” Rose retorts. “You set me up with a nineteen-year-old who has never switched on the goddamn news in his life.”

  My mother grabs hold of the nearest chair, as though Rose physically impaled her with that curse word. “Language, Rose.”

  “Grow up, mother,” she retorts. “I have.”

  I take a step towards them to ease the situation, but the door opens and Aaron slips through and begins to walk over to me. In order to dodge him, I glance at my father and decide to take a seat beside him.

  “Hi, Dad,” I say with a smile, scooting onto the same couch.

  “Hey, sweetheart.”

  I sit on the edge of the cushion, anxious and timid, especially as Aaron waits by the bar, wondering if he should approach I guess. And all the while, I feel Jonathan staring between me, Aaron, my father and my sister, taking in everything with scrutiny I do not enjoy.

  “Should you break them up?” I ask my father and scratch my arm.

  “They always fight,” he says. “Better to just let them work it out.” He grabs my hand. “Have you been biting your nails? You haven’t done that since you were a kid.”

  I shrug, keeping an eye on my mother and sister. “With Lo gone…” I trail off, not able to say the rest or tell him the whole truth. I shrug again, a go-to response right now.

  My mother’s voice escalates. “And what did he say that was so bad?! What could it have been Rose?”

  “He didn’t know who David Cameron is!”

  I frown. I have no idea who he is.

  My mother looks equally lost.

  Rose chokes on a laugh. “He’s the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, mother.”

  “That doesn’t make him unintelligent.”

  “It does to me,” Rose tells her. “I don’t want to share someone’s company if they can’t count to five. I’d rather hang myself.”

  So dramatic. And I’m assuming family gets a pass on Rose Calloway’s incredibly high friendship standards.

  I swear I hear my father mutter, “That’s my girl.” He nudges my arm. “How is Lo doing?”

  Jonathan’s muscles twitch at this question, and as I look over, his eyebrows rise, waiting for me to answer.

  “I’m not sure,” I say truthfully. “I haven’t been in contact with him. I’m not supposed to until he gets further into the program.”

  My father nods. “I think what he’s doing is admirable. Really admirable. Not many young kids realize that they have a problem when they do.”

  I glance to Jonathan. “Do you…feel the same?” I wonder, gaining a little confidence.

  His lips upturn in that bitter, amused smile, so familiar that my breath knocks from my chest. It reminds me so much of Lo—that’s the scary part. “I think he should have come to me first. We could have solved it together. That’s why I’m so angry, Lily. I gave him the life he has, and he walked away from me.”

  “That’s not entirely true…” I trail off, scared of his pulsing eyes. He took away Lo’s trust fund. He refused to believe that Lo had a problem. He may have wanted Lo to stay in his life, and maybe he was frightened by the idea of admitting that he has the same addiction. Maybe he didn’t want to confront his own demons. And in the end, he left Lo no choice but to leave and seek help elsewhere.

  Before Jonathan responds, I feel Aaron sit by my side. His arm wraps around the back of the couch behind me, as though we’re together. I stay stiff and wiggle closer to the edge of the cushion, not wanting to touch any part of him.

  He introduces himself to Jonathan and my father, and they all act cordial. But I am utterly frozen inside. To make matters worse, Rose and my mother’s fight has increased to new levels.

  “I don’t need a man to fulfill me,” Rose sneers. She points at my mother with her champagne glass, the liquid sloshing onto the floor. She hardly notices.

  My mother inhales, her collarbone jutting out and cheeks caving in. “You’re so naïve, Rose. You think this world is going to respect you? You’re living in a fantasy,” she nearly spits. “Women like us have a figment of power. In the end, we’re all marionettes to men. Accept it now.”

  Rose’s nose flares, her cat-colored eyes piercing. “Lily is with Lo,” she says. “Why would you ever cause her such pain and make another man escort her?”

  “This again?” she snaps.

  “Yes,” Rose retorts. “This again.”

  My mother sighs. “What if Lo never returns? What if he chooses to be single by the end of this? I am creating a backup plan for her. I’m giving her options.”

  Her words sting my chest, and I hardly notice Aaron laughing about something with my father, as if they’re long lost buddies. Lo will return. Won’t he? He will come back to me. He’ll want me…but the doubt festers in my soul. And I try to rid it with a confident nod, but I’m not feeling so assured right now. Not when my mother has zero faith in the man I love.

  “Options?” Rose shrieks. “You’ve never given any of us an option. You know what option I would have liked? The option to disown my own mother.”

  “Stop it,” she snaps. Her chin raises, but I can tell she holds in a breath, a sign that Rose’s words have truly started to infiltrate and infect and seep and hurt. “I helped you grow your company.”

  “And you never let me forget it,” Rose sneers. The door cracks open, but no one notices Connor Cobalt slipping in except me. He has on an expensive tux, but his equally expensive smile is locked away. He wears a dark frown and stands guard by the door, watching Rose with serious, calm eyes. I am so grateful he’s here. Because I’m scared for Rose. I’m not sure how to calm her. I’m not sure what words will take away the pain of tonight.

  I wish my mother could hear what Rose is saying. I feel like she’s screaming to be heard, but no one can understand. No one gets it. I stand up, about to go to her, but Aaron grabs my hand and tugs me back down. He says something to Jonathan and wraps his arm around my shoulder.

  I’m too fixated on my sister to push him off and start an argument over here. Connor crosses his arms over his che
st and glances at me. He looks at Aaron, and he’s about to come over but I shake my head and mouth, her.

  He hesitates and nods to me in acceptance.

  “What do you want from me?!” our mother yells. “I’ve been there for you your whole life!”

  “I want you to say you’re wrong! I want you to apologize for this evening and for putting me with Matthew Collins and for thinking I’m a tool that a man can use and dispose. I’m your daughter!” Rose screams, angry tears burning from the corners of her eyes. “You’re supposed to love me by telling me that I’m beautiful and I’m smart and no man is good enough for me. You’re not supposed to tell me I’m worth less than I am.”

  My mother inches forward a little. “Can you listen to yourself, Rose? We’re at an event for your father’s company, and you’re making it about you. You think you’re a woman? You’re acting like a child.”

  Rose stares directly at our mother. Unflinching, unwavering. And very coldly, she says, “Go to hell.”

  My mother’s hand flies and connects with Rose’s cheek, the slap heard like a gunshot in the lounge room. Jonathan, Aaron and my father go silent.

  Rose drops her champagne glass, and it shatters on the marble floor. She stares in a trance at the ground, as though she felt nothing when the contact was made. My heart hammers so hard that the only thing I hear is the pulsing in my ears.

  I have never seen my mother hit anyone. Maybe because I spent most days with Lo. Maybe because I haven’t been attuned to the happenings of my family. But the shock strikes me cold. I don’t have the same relationship with our mother that Rose does. We’re not hostile towards each other. In fact, we’re…nothing really. I say hi, she asks me how Lo is, and we move on.

  I don’t wish for this. To be silently boiling, having to restrain myself from spewing hateful words and from feeling a hand sting my cheek. No one would ask for that. And I want to take Rose away from it, but she’s twenty-two.

  The damage is done.

  I think we’re all old enough to feel the scars of our upbringing. Now we just have to find a way to heal.

  My mother lets out a breath and says, “I’m sorry…We’ll talk later. Clearly we’ve both had a lot to drink…” She shoots a quick glance to my father, and he stands and excuses himself too, following her out of the lounge room and back to the party.

  Aaron keeps pulling me closer to his lap, and I swat him away, keeping track of Rose in case she needs me. I doubt she’d like to be reminded that she’s losing control. My interference is like saying, “Your fucked up little sister is going to rescue you. How screwed up does that make you, Rose Calloway?” Which is why I asked Connor here in the first place.

  He approaches her like a man tiptoeing towards a sleeping lion. “Rose,” he breathes. “Sweetheart…”

  She’s shaking. Her arms tremble, and her eyes keep growing wider and wider. “She’s wrong,” Rose whispers. I can practically hear her chant in her head: I’m not like her. I’m not like her.

  Connor closes the gap between them, and his hands touch her face, holding her cheeks, and gently soothing the reddened one with a soft stroke. “Look at me, hun.”

  Rose tries to push him off. “Why…” She keeps shaking her head, but he holds her tight, trying to make her focus.

  “I’m right here,” he tells her.

  She weakly tries to push him off again, not really wanting to, and he grabs her hand. “I don’t need you,” she reminds him. But the silent tears start flowing. She’s crying in front of him, actually letting Connor see her cracks. I wonder if the emotions are too hard to bottle since she drank so much. “I don’t need you,” she repeats, her voice breaking.

  “You’re right,” he says softly. “You don’t need a man, Rose.” He pauses and I barely hear him whisper, “But you do need me.”

  She looks down and then back at him, her lashes wet and glistening, making her face look more porcelain and delicate than I ever remember. “What are you doing here?” she asks with the shake of her head. “You shouldn’t be here.” Her tears drip on his hands, both rising back to her face. He tucks a flyaway piece of hair behind her ear, and his eyes graze the welt on her cheek.

  “A little bird told me you were upset.”

  Rose lets out a choked cry. “Are you crazy?” She places her hands on his arms that hold her face but doesn’t force him away anymore. “You’re talking to birds now?”

  His lips twitch into a weak smile. “I’d talk to any woodling creature if it gave me answers about you.”

  “Would you walk through fire for me?” she deadpans.

  “Yes,” he accepts the challenge.

  “Brand my name on your ass?”

  “Possibly.”

  “Drink cow’s blood in my honor?”

  “You’re so fucking weird,” he says with the biggest grin.

  She breaks into a smile but it’s a pained one and then she starts sobbing. Like truly sobbing. He wraps his arms around her, and she falls into the hug. He guides her to the bathroom door to the right, and they disappear inside.

  The room has almost cleared out, and I just remember who I’m actually sitting next to. Aaron leans close and whispers in my ear, “I will ruin you the way Loren ruined me.”

  I gape. A mixture of shock and fear prick me at the sudden proclamation. Bad timing can’t even begin to describe tonight. I try to stand, but he grips my wrist so tight that when I jerk up, he brings me right back down.

  Jonathan, frighteningly the only other person in the room, sets his whiskey on the glass end table “Is there a problem here?” he asks Aaron.

  “Didn’t Lily tell you?” he says with a false smile. “We’re dating now.”

  I shake my head quickly. “No we aren’t.”

  Jonathan stares between us, reading my closed body language and Aaron’s aggressive movement. And then he says, “Get the fuck out of my sight, kid.”

  “Excuse me?” Aaron jerks back in shock.

  Jonathan stands and straightens his tie. “Lily.” He holds out his hand for me to take it, and I am momentarily struck by the change of events. Is Jonathan Hale really saving me from this douchebag right now?

  I shouldn’t take his hand. I should spit at it and walk away. Lo would. But he’d also kill me if I didn’t leave Aaron when I had the chance. And I’m not an idiot. I want to be far, far away from him. So I stand, and this time, Aaron lets me disentangle from him. But I don’t touch Jonathan. I walk right on past him and head for the door, my exit in view.

  Before I leave, I hear Aaron say, “She’s a slut, you know that, right?”

  “And you think I don’t know what my son did to you? I helped him ruin you, you piece of shit,” he says.

  Lo told his father about Aaron? About how he’d tormented him? I don’t question this. Because Lo’s relationship with his father was a taboo topic between us. It fluttered in and out of our conversations, and I was only allowed a glimmer. And I know, without a doubt, that Jonathan Hale would move mountains for Lo. He just needs to be in the right mood first.

  “Like father, like son,” Aaron says.

  I have to leave, but I’m glued next to the door. I glance back one last time, and Jonathan’s eyes briefly flicker to me. “That girl is practically my daughter-in-law.” He sets a firm hand on Aaron’s shoulder. “If I hear you did anything to her, you’ll wish all you had to deal with was my son. Now get out of my fucking face.”

  I am so confused.

  I don’t know who to root for anymore.

  I don’t know what sides to take or who to praise or condemn.

  All I know is that my family is royally fucked up. And no amount of money or luxury can fix these problems. Maybe they even helped cause them.

  I enter the grand ballroom where people wander, standing up and chatting as though it’s cocktail hour. Streamers and gold and black balloons lie on the carpet. I missed some sort of celebration. I kick them away and spot my mother by the stage.

  What possesses me to ap
proach her? I’m not quite sure. But as she talks to my father, I feel like I should just say something. Maybe help explain Rose’s feelings but in a softer, gentler manner. Maybe she’ll listen to me, I think. She never really has, but it’s a nice thought anyway.

  I approach, and my father excuses himself to go mingle with some older corporate men. She looks a little stricken, her lips pinched and her hand a bit shaky. “What is it?” she asks, on edge.

  “Are you okay?” Why do I start with this? Of course she’s not okay, and does she really deserve my sympathy after slapping Rose? No, not one bit. But I can’t take it back, and her domineering posture sucks my confidence dry.

  “Fine,” she says, turning her back on me almost immediately. She waves to her friend and acts like I’m a piece of furniture that chose to bump into her leg.

  I try again. “I think she’s just trying to express herself, but she doesn’t know how to do it without yelling…”

  My mother continues to wave at her friend in the distance. She puts her hand on my shoulder, patting me once. “Sure, I have to go talk to Barbara. Find Aaron. He’ll keep you company.” With this, she drifts into the pack and wears the fakest smile. I watch her hug a bejeweled woman in a red bandage dress.

  I feel like she just punched me in the gut.

  Ryke suddenly sidles next to me. “There you are.” He hands me a glass of water, and I thankfully accept it with a smile. “You okay? Nothing happened did it…?” His brows furrow, and he glances behind me, probably looking around for Aaron who I’m sure has ceased and desisted. Jonathan Hale’s warning was strong enough to listen to. And Aaron isn’t that stupid.

  “No,” I say, “nothing like that.” We both stare at the party that seems to relax—calm after the split tension. “Unchained Melody” by the Righteous Brothers begins playing. Couples grab their significant other, swaying to the lovely tune.

  “Who was that guy anyway?”

  “And old enemy,” I tell him, watching an elderly woman put her cheek on her husband’s shoulder.

  Ryke stuffs a hand into his suit jacket and nods, as though fully understanding what it’s like to have enemies. I have no doubt that he has his fair share.