Just as Kate was beginning to doubt herself, Hannah’s huge eyes narrowed and a devilish smirk curled her lips.
“It isn’t a game. I’ve never been more serious in my life. If you could manage to keep your fucking mouth shut for two more weeks, no one will get hurt. We’ll all get our happy ending,” Hannah growled.
“I don’t believe you,” Kate retorted.
“Then tell me, what do I have to do to prove it?”
Chapter 25
For once, Willow and Sam found something to agree upon. When Hannah announced she was returning to Paris, they both tried very adamantly to dissuade her. Of the two, Sam was more vocal, but Willow was just as insistent.
“If you are determined to go back to work, come to the studio. We’ll update your portfolio, and you’ll have no trouble getting a new campaign,” Sam said.
“No,” Hannah declared. “I have to be seen live. It’s the only way to stop all these ridiculous rumors.”
Although lately she hadn’t been the best role model for clear and rational thinking, her newest idea was by far the most preposterous. Hannah hadn’t walked a runway in over a year, and the press had been relentless and cruel. It had all the trappings of a perfect storm. Sam thought she had lost her mind, but then remembered she already had. What could she possibly be thinking? Paris? Really? She was in no condition to do Paris. It was like going straight from the recovery room to the base of Mount Everest for a quiet, little Sunday stroll.
The more Sam thought about it, the more he realized this was exactly something Hannah would do—the old Hannah. In the past, every time they thought they had her cornered, she always came back fighting. But the new Hannah, Little Miss Happy Homemaker, didn’t stand a chance. She would come away bloodied, bruised, and ripped to shreds.
That was why he convinced Kate they had to go too. He wasn’t going there to support her. No, he would bring her still, lifeless soul home because once the crows were finished feasting upon her, there would very little left. Willow was practically useless. One bad headline had her falling to pieces. It had to be him. He was all Hannah had left, and the stupid bitch didn’t even realize it.
Always being a label snob, Hannah wouldn’t walk for anyone that wasn’t a regular feature in Vogue. When she announced that she was representing Gustuv Christensen, it was just as surprising as the news that she walking at all. For starters, no one had even heard of Christensen on this side of the Atlantic. In the ocean of the design world, Christensen’s wave was more like a ripple. His work was a little too eclectic, a little too modern, to ever be accepted in the mainstream.
Although she had never publically committed, when Raymond began dropping several heavy hints that Hannah might possibly walk for Christensen, what was expected to be at best a modest showing grew into a standing-room-only event. Media outlets from across the globe lined the room with cameras and microphones in hand. Celebrities, socialites, and the fashion world’s elite were all crammed together. They had all come for one reason alone—to see Hannah Fairbanks once again in all her glory.
Hannah had been very ambiguous about the specifics. None of them, Willow, Sam, or Kate, knew for certain what her role was to be in the show—whether she would be highlighted as the show’s main attraction or simply a delicious side dish, because Hannah wanted them to be surprised. But Kate did know that both Willow and Sam would be surprised if Hannah kept true to her word.
Glancing back and forth between the two of them, it was hard to tell who was more apprehensive—Willow or Sam. They both looked like a bundle of nerves, as if they might get sick at any moment. The wait was killing them, but it was almost over.
Halfway through the show, a well-dressed gentleman pushed his way through the crowd and found them. “Are you Willow Mallory?” he inquired politely.
“Yes, I am.”
“Miss Fairbanks asked me to bring you backstage. She thought you might like a better view,” he explained.
For a moment, Willow looked unsure. There were so many vultures prowling the packed room, and it could just be a ploy to get her to talk. Kate squeezed her hand reassuringly and then said, “You should go. It will be fine.”
“All right,” Willow muttered and left with him.
A few moments later, a fashionably attired lady walked up to Sam and said, “Hannah would like to speak to you. If you could come with me, I’ll take you to her.”
“What is she up to?” Sam gritted between his teeth to no one in particular. “I’ll be right back,” he said to Kate and then kissed her on the cheek.
His gut instinct was that Hannah was backing out. Thank God, if she finally came to her senses, but he found her sitting in front of a private dressing room table with a makeup artist who was just finishing up.
“That will be all,” Hannah commanded and then held her hand out to Sam. Smiling sweetly, she squeezed his fingers, “I’m so happy you came. Paris is never the same without you.”
“You remember?” Sam questioned, confused.
“Of course,” Hannah exclaimed. “How could I forget? Remember the last time we came and your lovely ménage a trois with those beautiful twins from Germany. Kate would just love to hear that story, wouldn’t she?” she questioned as she stroked his cheek. “You see, I forget very little. Just like the time you let them fry my fucking brain while you were traipsing across Europe fucking your little bride in my fucking villa. You didn’t think I would forget that, did you?”
Sam stepped back, looking simultaneously shocked and furious. “You fucking little cunt,” he snapped.
“I warned you,” Hannah murmured. “If you couldn’t learn to play nice, I wouldn’t let you play. Threatening to ruin Willow if she tried to contact me is not playing nice.”
“You’ve gone too far this time, Hannah. This is the last time. I’m done,” Sam declared. “I’m done with you and all your freaky little games.”
“But I haven’t even begun,” Hannah giggled.
Sam’s heart sank to his stomach as he realized that this game was never intended for him. He had just been the pawn that she used to play. The elaborate farce had been orchestrated for only one person alone—Willow. Good God, what did she plan to do to her? Having gone this far already, Hannah wouldn’t let anything get in her way. Come hell or high water, she was going to win or destroy them both. If she was winner, that made Willow the loser. But at what? And why?
Sam didn’t have time to discover the answers. He had to warn Willow before it was too late. He only hoped she listened to him because the fates of both women depended on it.
“You’re insane,” Sam gritted through his teeth.
“No Sam,” Hannah denied. “I’m a crazy bitch. Now go back to Kate. Mommy is going to make you proud.”
From her vantage point clustered deep in the shadows, Willow only had a partial view of the long platform stage. Just as she was strongly considering going back out front, the lights dimmed. The silence that filled the room was heavy with a vibrating sense of anticipation. As the light strum of an amplified wind chime sounded, an oversized, iridescent chrysalis floated down from the ceiling. One by one, the panels dropped like the blossoming petals of a rose, and there she was.
Multicolored lights began dancing back and forth in rhythm with the electronica beat, but too soon, the sound of the song was drowned out by the crowd. In unison, they chanted and clapped, “HAN-NAH…HAN-NAH…HAN…HAH.” Until finally, she stepped forth.
Willow stretched and craned her neck trying to see, but she moved quietly out of sight. Whatever she was giving the audience, they loved it as evidenced by the chaotic explosions of cheers.
Willow only vaguely realized the fact that she was wearing one of her designs because she was so worried about Hannah. As Hannah quickly strutted back toward the front, Willow caught a glimpse of her face, and almost didn’t recognize her. It had nothing to do with her makeup or hair. It was her expression that troubled Willow—so cool and calculating. The rebirth of the Ice Queen. What was
going on? Had the strut down the runway triggered her lost memories? Was the old Hannah back?
Moving swiftly back down towards the audience, she was once again out of view. Although she could no longer see what was happening, she felt it. A pause, a hiccup, the audience was growing ever more demanding. They didn’t just want Hannah the beautiful face—they wanted all of her.
Willow squeezed her eyes tight and silently mouthed, No! Don’t do it!
Over the roar, a single voice that sounded like it belonged to a legion of hell’s furies, screamed from the stage, “SUCK…MY…COCK!”
Sam returned to Kate just as the lights dimmed. He hurried forward and grabbed her hand, “Come on! We have to find Willow.”
“What?” Kate questioned. “What’s going on?”
“It’s Hannah. She made up this whole thing. We’ve got to warn Willow,” he explained as he tugged her through the crowd.
As soon as they exited the room, Kate dug her feet into the tile and refused to move until he explained himself. “Sam, what’s going on? What did Hannah say to you? And what are we supposed to warn Willow about?”
“This…” Sam exclaimed. “It’s made-up. None of it is real. Hannah is playing another game. I’m afraid she is going to end up hurting herself, Willow, or probably both of them. We have to convince Willow to get away from her.”
After her grand proclamation, Hannah exited the runway. Instead of returning to the changing rooms, she walked towards Willow and let out a loud squeal of delight. Vaulting down from the steps, Hannah wrapped her arms around her and squeezed tightly. “Oh my God! That was horrible!”
Willow stepped back, now even more confused. The old Hannah now only seemed like a distant memory. Standing before her was her sister. What the hell was going on?
Hannah reached for long overcoat, which had been left waiting for her. “Come on! We need to get out of here fast before the press finds us. One of my old friends has offered his private jet. If we leave now, we won’t have to tangle with any reporters.”
Just as they started to walk away, Sam called out, “Willow, wait!”
Both women turned around to face him and Kate.
“Kate, tell her,” Sam insisted. When Kate remained stubbornly silently, he added, “You have to tell her. She won’t listen to me because I’ve been such a dick.”
“Sam,” Hannah whispered with a frown. “I’ll call you when we get home. We’ll do lunch.”
Willow only faltered for a moment. A dick didn’t even begin to describe how Sam had been treating her since the day they met. She had lost track of his countless barrage of insults and the nasty glares he shot her way when no one else was looking. Not to mention the fact he had threatened to destroy all her future dreams and aspirations. As if there was a choice? She didn’t believe a word that came out of his mouth.
Admittedly, Hannah wasn’t acting normal, or more aptly phrased, normal for her. Having known her for several months now, Willow decided that normal wasn’t in her emotional gauge. Right now, the person she trusted wholeheartedly was Kate, and she refused to speak. Instead, she silently watched Hannah.
Finally, looking back at Hannah, Willow said, “Let’s go.”
Before they exited the hall, Hannah turned back one last time. The bitch had the audacity to wink at him. Spinning on his heels, Sam shouted, “What the hell, Kate? Why didn’t you tell her?”
“Sam, I don’t believe you are thinking clearly. If Hannah was really set on hurting Willow, why hasn’t she done it already? Willow has been staying with her over a month. She has had ample opportunities,” Kate answered.
“Yeah and that’s how a sane person thinks, but Hannah is not,” Sam groaned with disgust.
Kate reached for his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. “I know the truth.”
“The truth? What truth? What the hell are you talking about?”
“I know Hannah took care of you for years. I know she loved you when no one else did. I know she is your…” Kate paused, taking a deep breath before she forced the words out, “…mother. But you have to let her go. They need to figure this out for themselves, and we need to get on with our life. It’s been over a year since you asked me to marry you the first time, and that’s what I want more than anything else.” She reached up and stroked his brow, which was still creased with worry. “I want my best friend back. I’ve missed him so much.”
Chapter 26
They had only been in the air a little over an hour when the plane started to descend. Willow looked up at Hannah, who was sitting across from her passing the time by reading a newspaper.
“Hannah, what’s going on?”
“Sorry, did I forget to mention we have to make one tiny little stop first?” Hannah dismissed casually.
Once they landed and left the airport, a car and driver was waiting for them outside. After they were situated in the backseat, Hannah said mysteriously, “It won’t be much longer now.”
Dusk was settling in the sky. Willow knew they were somewhere outside of Pisa because she spotted the famed leaning tower from the car window. Leaving the city behind, the road stretched and meandered around the rolling hills and golden fields filled with vineyards. Willow was so caught up with the beauty of her surroundings that she forgot she still didn’t know what the hell was going on.
After several more minutes, the driver pulled off the main road and turned onto a graveled, dust-covered path of sorts. When they passed the scattered tree line, Willow spotted a picturesque villa sitting on top of a hill.
“You remember I told you about this place—that I wanted to bring you here,” Hannah whispered coyly.
Willow’s eyes widened in surprise as the alarms started ringing inside her head.
Hannah stepped out of the car and held out her hand for Willow. “Come on,” she insisted. “Trust me, you’ll love it.”
A handsome young man, probably no older than eighteen or nineteen years old, met them at the front archway. “Miss Fairbanks, it is so good to see you again.”
“Thank you, Nico,” Hannah said sweetly, then reached up and kissed his cheek. “This is my darling, Willow.” Hannah then turned back to Willow and explained, “Nico’s father owns a vineyard down the road. He looks after the place while I’m away.”
As soon as they were alone inside the main house, Willow demanded, “Hannah, I want you to tell me the truth. What are we doing here?”
Hannah turned around slowly. Her blue eyes twinkled devilishly. “I want to play…sister.”
“No,” Willow declared, feeling as if she had just been sucker punched. No doubt about it, old Hannah was back with a vengeance. For weeks, she had been praying Hannah would find her way back, but not like this. The look in her eyes was all wrong. She wasn’t seeing Willow the person but Willow the doll.
“You’re right, of course. We can’t play in here,” Hannah retorted calmly, turned, and started walking down the long, narrow hall.
Willow reluctantly followed. She had no choice but to follow. Stranded in a foreign country with a woman who may or may not be crazy, her only option was to see what Hannah had in mind and then run like hell if necessary.
Hannah was waiting for her in the bedroom suite. Leaning against an ornate wooden door, she turned the knob and pushed it slowly open. Hannah held out her arm for Willow to come inside.
Willow stepped past Hannah, who was silently waiting at the threshold, and was stunned speechless for several long minutes. To an ordinary person, the sight of a filled, steaming bathtub might not seem so horrific, but for Willow, it was a symbol of how far they had fallen. There was no way she would get into that tub, not after everything they had been through. If this is what Hannah needed to stay sane, then it was time to say goodbye.
Willow turned around to tell Hannah but she was nowhere in sight. She stepped out of the bathroom and found her sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning over with her arms rested on her knees.
“When did you remember?” Willow whispered.
<
br /> “I never forgot,” Hannah admitted without expression.
“All this has been a charade!” Willow screamed. “Why? Why would you do this?”
“I thought you were my dead mother and Kate was an angel come down from heaven to save me. Clearly, I was a little confused,” Hannah said sarcastically.
“All right. But what about this last month? Why did you have me come to Sedona and convince me that you thought I was your sister?”
“You didn’t come,” Hannah cried. “You didn’t call, you didn’t write.”
“I couldn’t,” Willow shouted. “Your precious baby boy threatened to ruin me if I tried to find you.”
“I know that,” Hannah spat as she ran her fingers through her hair. “I know because my lawyer told me everything after I was declared mentally component. But I also know…” Hannah paused and looked up. Her eyes glistened with tears that stained her cheeks. “…if it would have been you, the devil himself couldn’t have stopped me from finding you.”
Willow fell back against the wall and squeezed her eyes shut. She heard Hannah say, “I thought you despised me.”
Trying to keep her emotions in check, she slowly opened her eyes and answered softly, “No, I didn’t hate you.”
“I’m trying to get better,” Hannah pleaded. “I am taking my medications, going to therapy, I even went to group counseling with Kate and that was just a fucking blast.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me the truth?”
“I didn’t think you would believe me. I needed to prove that I could I be normal. I know you think I’ve been acting crazy the last couple of weeks, but everything I’ve been doing—those are the things that make me content. Right now, I have to fill my world with happiness to get healthy. I have to heal because none of it will matter without you. You are my joy, my bliss, and I’m trying very hard to become a person you could learn to love.”
Willow walked over slowly and sat down beside her. Reaching for Hannah’s hand, she whispered, “You don’t have to try at all. I fell in love with you in the middle of a subway in Paris, but I was too afraid to admit it. I’ve never known anyone as…” Willow paused to think of the right word, “…unique as you.”
Crazy Bitch (Bitches and Queens) Page 17