“Yes, that sounds perfect.” And as much as I want him to stay, I want him to go. I need some time to process, and plan. I need to scrub my body and face of the filth that Nadja continues to hurl at me. Tipping my head to meet his eyes, he kisses me lightly at the corner of my mouth and turns on his heel. As he swings the door open, he winks at me with his crooked grin solidly in place.
“I’ll be back in a little while, Sophie. Be ready.”
Chapter 14
I am waiting at the curb when Rhys and Charlie return, ready to see Olivia, needing the company of others, a buffer of sorts. We ride in relative silence, Rhys feels pensive but grins at me and holds my hand tightly.
Olivia and Matthew are waiting when we arrive and I am so excited to see her, a familiar face, someone I understand. I am overwhelmed and know immediately that the night will not be easy. She reads me like a book and immediately asks what is wrong as soon as she embraces me.
“Nothing.” I shake her off taking my seat next to Rhys. She watches shrewdly as we order drinks and Rhys pulls a brown leather box from his coat pocket. Her eyes grow wide with excitement as he places it in front of me.
“I got you a little something today, Sophie.”
“Rhys, you shouldn’t have. Why did you do this?” I ask, genuinely curious and more than a little taken aback. He takes the cover off the box to reveal a beautiful, sparkling rose gold watch, the face surrounded by dazzling diamonds that twinkle like little stars. Olivia’s eyes dart to her own wrist, as she scrutinizes both watches, needing hers to be better.
“Wow,” she huffs, pulling the watch closer to her face.
“Rhys.” I am speechless. The watch sparkles in the flickering candlelight of the table, facets fire and bounce from Olivia’s wide eyes to Rhys’ waiting face.
“Do you like it?” he asks, taking the box from my hand. He takes the watch from the pillow and holds it out to me. I offer him my wrist with not a word hanging from my mouth.
“You guys must be serious,” Olivia muses, still unable to take her eyes off the watch that Rhys has now placed around my wrist. It is colder and heavier than it looks, but it feels nice. His eyebrows hang high on his face as he waits with baited breath for my reaction. I have never received such an extravagant present. I have never owned anything so beautiful. And I have never wanted to take a piece of jewelry off so badly in all of my life. Suddenly, it feels like an anchor around my wrist, a cold metal anchor, tugging me to the ground. I slip the watch off my wrist and quickly tuck it back around its pillow and into the box. Rhys’ face falls for a moment.
“I love it, really.” It’s way too much.
“It’s time,” he offers quietly, sliding his hands across the table, covering my fingers with his. “You said you needed time. So I am giving you time.” He grins and it twists in my gut. God, he is so beautiful. How did this happen? I struggle to remember how I got here, with him. This person who is so far out of my league, everyone around him can see it. He is blind to it. How long until he changes his mind, or gets bored, until the need to be pushed comes back. How do I move past these damn pictures in my head of him and Melissa and Nadja? If I could just erase it, I know I could move on, I want to just move on. The past is in the past, I would prefer to leave both of our pasts behind us.
“Time? Why do you need time?” Olivia asks, sipping her white wine, sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong. I look into Rhys’ eyes for some guidance. What am I supposed to say? He is the one who brought it up. But before I can respond, Rhys turns to Matthew.
“Nadja is on the war path and has painted a target on Sophie’s back.” Matthew’s eyes light up with humor before he looks at me with pity. “She is in the mood to spill secrets, so I had to tell Sophie the truth.”
Matthew squirms slightly, but it is Olivia’s reaction that catches my attention. A breath catches in her throat and she coughs violently, before grasping my arm.
“About time,” she mutters, trying to catch her breath. Matthew looks down at her, but her eyes flash back in warning. “What truth?”
“Babe,” Matthew warns.
“No, Matthew. Sophie is my friend, and if we hadn’t been half way around the world and I had known this was going on and he still hasn’t told her the truth I would have told her myself. You need to tell her everything, Rhys, like now.” My heart races at her candor and force. She waits impatiently, looking from Matthew to Rhys. “In my experience, it is best to just rip the bandage off, wouldn’t you say, guys? Just spill it and let it be over.” Her eyes bore a hole through Rhys, but he says nothing, his white-knuckle grip on his glass the only indication that he is in fact not made of stone.
Olivia grabs my hand, “You know what? We are going to the bar!” She pulls me behind her. “I will rip the damn bandage myself.” We wind through the crowd and slide into the last two empty bar stools. I look back at the table to see Rhys watching me, swirling his scotch the way he does when he is anxious.
“What do you know?” Olivia demands as she motions to the bartender. Two shots of whiskey slide down our throats before I can loosen my tongue enough to talk. A huge part of me does not want to tell her anything, does not want to talk about it. But, clearly she knows something. She must, the way she and Matthew are acting. I tell her about running into Andrew and that distracts her momentarily. “Oh, my God! Yes, Andrew. I remember you telling me about him, that Australian rugby player?” She shivers and blows a mock breath. “He was hot! How did that go?” she asks, tossing back another shot of Jack.
“Not well. Rhys was mad with jealousy and we went through this whole power struggle thing.” I toss back my shot and continue on, my tongue thoroughly loose and my mind now reeling with so many details. “I got pissed at the way he acted, like I was his property or something.” Olivia’s eyebrows go up, but not in surprise. “He wanted to be the only guy, he said. Isn’t that bullshit? Here he is with this supermodel ex, not to mention the fact that he apparently slept with half the women at your wedding! And now, he is throwing a fit about me seeing some guy I hooked up with years ago, before I even knew him?” Another round of shots land in front of us, I slam mine back and continue. “And Nadja! Don’t get me started on that bitch!”
The music is getting louder as the crowd grows and we are pressed to the bar by the throngs of people. Jack flows through me like life blood and I cannot stop talking, it is cathartic to lay all this shit out. Olivia is clearly in a listening mood, hanging on my every word, words that become looser and juicier with every shot. “She showed up at his house on his birthday, correction, at three am the morning after his birthday. When he told her he was not alone, girl, I thought her head was going to explode. But when she saw me, there was a fire in her eyes like I have never seen.”
“She is crazy!” Olivia yells over the crowd.
“This morning she accosted me on the front steps of Rhys’ office building.”
“Oh, my God! What did she say? What happened?”
“She basically threatened me. Said I wasn’t good enough, and that Rhys will never outgrow her. She told me not to underestimate her.” We toss back another shot.
“What did you do?” Olivia yells, leaning in closer. “What did Rhys say?”
I lean back and look into her face. A weird light flashes across her eyes like she knows, and suddenly I feel sick. If she knows, then Matthew knows. Again, I am the only one in the dark.
“Why didn’t you tell me Kylie was Rhys’stepsister?” I ask, distracted by my own clashing inner monologues. Her eyes grow wide and she shakes her head in confusion. Wait, she said, in my experience. A pang of anger twists in my belly, radiating into the rest of my body. I tilt my head at her in question.
“You said ‘in your experience’ what did that mean? What do you know, Olivia?” I ask as the music softens. She reaches across the bar and grabs the last shot. “Was Matthew with Nadja, too?”
“What? No!” she declares. “That bitch is a special kind of crazy that only Rhys could appre
ciate. Fuck it!” she says, pouring the last shot into her mouth. “Rhys and Matthew used to go to these…clubs. Bondage clubs, sex clubs, they pretty much made the circuit.” I shake my head in disbelief, this is not what we were talking about. But, I listen in fascination as the whiskey has caused an avalanche of information to come dislodged and I want to catch it all. “Apparently they had quite the reputation, girls would throw themselves at them, let them do whatever they liked. I know the two of them have shared girls. That was a hard one to swallow. Then they started hosting Private Parties,” she mutters, mostly to herself. “What happened exactly?”
“She sent Rhys these emails, videos. I mean, I think they were all videos. We only opened one.” She waits sternly, motioning to the bartender one more time. I lower my voice and lean closer to her. “It was Melissa, he and Nadja were fucking Melissa. She was gagged, and….” My stomach lurches into my throat and I stop talking, close my mouth and wish it all weren’t true. Sitting back on my stool, I fill my lungs with a deep breath of the stagnant bar air. “He didn’t say a word about a club or parties. He just told me about his relationship with Nadja. He said they pushed each other. That they weren’t good for each other.”
“You got that right!” she says, slapping the bar as two more shots of whiskey are poured. “He and Nadja are like poison to each other. But, his sins are his own.” We toast with what I hope is the last round of shots.
“I don’t know what to do.” My voice is soft after hacking and coughing. The last shot burning on the way down. Sliding through my body like the swell of information, licking my veins, clouding my reason.
“My first Private Party was Matthew’s last, needless to say. Nadja and Rhys continued until she disappeared, which was and always has been her pattern. God only knows what kind of shit those two got up to. Sophie, these people are another breed, seriously. Some of the things I have seen would blow your mind. When we were playing spin the bottle in my basement with stolen wine coolers, they were hosting gold plated orgies on their parent’s yacht in the south of France.
“And you’re ok with that?”
“I have to be. I mean, I am now, I wasn’t at first, I was jealous and angry and…disgusted. It took some getting used to. But that is in the past. Matthew loves me and I love him. So, Rhys made a little video,” she says a little too loudly, and in the blink of an eye she is more than a little drunk. “That is all in Rhys’ past, I am sure of it. Everybody has a past. What matters is how you feel. Matthew and I have our own demons. We have worked them out and I have moved on.” Her eyes are wide when she leans in and kisses me on the cheek.
“Sophie. You have to decide if you can accept this or not. Rhys has grown, he isn’t the same person that he was with Nadja. We have never seen him this way. Matthew says has never seen Rhys this happy, ever. Not with Nadja. I know he has been trying to turn things around. But you have to decide if you believe it, and if you can live with it, because if you can’t let it go it will haunt you every day.” She slides forward on her stool and stumbles to her feet. I wrap my arms around her and steady her. “Whoa!” she yells, throwing her arms around my shoulders. “No more Jack for me, girl!”
“Yeah, me either.” Another drink would surely push me off the deep end. “Come, let’s go back to the table. The boys are watching us.” Rhys quickly pays the check as we approach the table and they shuffle us out to the curb before we can sit.
Chapter 15
“Matthew, it was good to see you, Brother. Good luck with her,” Rhys teases, shaking Matthew’s hand.
“It looks like you need the luck tonight, my friend. We’ll talk on Monday.” He pats Rhys on the shoulder and walks around his car to meet the valet.
“Bye, Sophie!” Olivia throws her loose arms around my neck and gives me a squeeze that pushes me off balance. We both sway and fall from the curb, stumbling over our shoes, giggling in each other arms. Rhys pulls us back from the street and hands Olivia off to Matthew before pushing me into the back of his Town Car. A loud giggle erupts from my throat as I slide across the seat watching Rhys’ dark face focus on me. I am drunk, the whiskey having caught me, and I don’t care. Jack slows the blood in my veins, wrapping me in a veil of alcohol infused indifference. He sits back, staring at me and I find it impossible to take him seriously.
“You are angry,” I whisper.
“You are drunk,” he states with no emotion.
“You have no right to be angry with me,” I retort. He softens with a sigh.
“I am not angry, Sophie. I am worried.” The car weaves through traffic, speed ebbing and flowing, throwing my gut into a tailspin, stop lights and street lights cast shadows that make the car spin and I need fresh air. I scoot to the corner and roll the window down. Resting my head against the seat, I let my eyes close and it all comes back into focus. Melissa’s blazing eyes stare at me from behind my lids, her smile wide and triumphant as she takes everything that Rhys can give. Damn Her! I sit straight up my eyes wide, my throat on fire.
“You should be worried. What am I supposed to think? How am I supposed to handle this?” Quiet words start to fall like rain, an inner monologue going public. I work through it out loud as if Rhys isn’t even there. “You have not been honest. You have been withholding vital information about yourself, Mr. Slate. I mean, guys like you are so used to everything just falling at your feet. Of course, women would fall at your feet. Hell, I fell at your feet against my better judgment. But bondage clubs and private parties? Really? I know what that means! Orgies! I knew you were no saint, but this is a whole other level. I have been with five people. Five! And I thought I was skating the lines of impropriety. I shudder to think how many women, how many girls you have been with. Just the thought makes me want to vomit. And the video! Ugh! The video has been playing on a loop in my mind, over and over again. How am I supposed to get rid of that?” I let my head fall back against the seat and look anywhere but into his eyes. “What the hell have I gotten myself into? How is it possible that you will not get bored with me and drop me so fast my head spins? Why would you…” My arm flies across the car in a grand gesture, waving about his form. “You! Why would you be interested in me? What happens when I don’t want to do the things you like? What if I can’t handle you? What if I’m not enough?” I sit back against the seat and take a deep breath of the warm summer air that flows through the window. “I just ran away, again. I ran away from my problems and into the arms of a man.” I watch him now, across the car his eyes sparkle in the dark, but he says nothing. “You will crush me, Rhys. I will get lost in you and I will never recover. That is a scary thought. But it is even scarier to think of my life without you. How did you do that?” I close my eyes and rest, willing my stomach to settle, willing the whiskey to wear off, yet I know it is only going to get worse before it gets better. “You should be worried.”
The next thing I know Rhys is setting me down on the bed and pulling off my shoes. I sit up and look into the eyes of a worried soul. His features are twisted and pulled down in a sad frown, lines dart across his forehead and his eyes are black.
“I think I’m a little drunk,” I whisper, letting my head fall back as he climbs up next to me.
“Just a little,” he murmurs with a chuckle, propping himself on his elbow to look at me.
“I think maybe I should go home for a little while.” I roll into a ball facing him. His eyes flash, his tight jaw saws back and forth before his eyebrows knit together.
“Why?” A drunken jumble of reasons swims through the muck of my head, but I can’t come up with one good cohesive stream of consciousness.
“You know why, Rhys. I just need a little time, maybe a little distance.” His face wrinkles and he opens his mouth to respond before snapping it shut. “I don’t think straight when it comes to you.” He just watches me trying to work it all out. He reaches out and brushes a hair from my forehead.
“I have the same problem,” he mutters before kissing my forehead.
“Re
ally?” I don’t believe it. I know he says it, but men say what they need to say, to get what they want.
“More than you can know, Sophie. You are so much more than I deserve.” The room starts to slowly spin as I take a deep breath and sit up, Rhys follows. “Are you alright?” His hand on my knee settles me and I close my eyes to stop the spin. “You need water. I will be right back.” He slides off the bed and disappears. I take the moment to try and gather myself.
I go into the bathroom and smooth my clothes, splash a little water on my face and brush my teeth. The taste of whiskey coats my mouth, leaving a regretful film that tortures me. Rhys hands me a tall glass of water as I step back into the room. His tall, lean body looms large and he hovers, waiting for what, I don’t know, for me to throw up, pass out, or run, either way, he looks like he is anticipating something very unpleasant. I reach up and cup his cheek. His warm skin feels nice on my palm, a little rough from his stubble.
“Don’t look so sad.” He grabs my hand and places a slow, soft kiss to my palm. Closing his eyes, he rests my palm against his lips and takes a deep breath.
“Please, don’t leave me, Sophie.” His coal black eyes pull at my heartstrings.
“I am not leaving you, Rhys.” I stretch on my tip toes and kiss the corner of his mouth. He sweeps me up into his arms, flush against his chest, knocking the almost empty glass from my hand. It bounces and skids to the foot of the bed, leaving a small puddle in its wake, but Rhys doesn’t seem to care. He walks to the bed, kicking the glass out of the way as he lowers me onto the mattress. The kiss is all consuming, our breaths mingled and dancing over our teeth as lips press and twist around each other. Our tongues swirl around and around, pushing in and out. His teeth graze my bottom lip and he nips me quickly.
“What did Olivia say to you?”
“She said the past is in the past, I just have to decide if I can live with it.”
Speak (The Voice trilogy Book 2) Page 14