Stolen Soulmate

by Mary Catherine Gebhard

  Ignominious slut.

  Who the fuck talked like that?

  “What’s that you’ve got in your hands, Grayson?”

  I stopped at my mother’s voice.

  I looked at the bag. “Food.”

  I kept walking, hoping that would be the end of it. The hallway was long and marked by open sandstone arches on either side, the sun fading into a tapestry of periwinkle and orange.

  “You used the private jet to get that food,” she said to my back. “Was dinner so not to your liking you had to go all the way to Italy?”

  I exhaled, turning to see her red-brown eyes narrowed.

  “I’m not going to sit back and watch you make the same mistake your father did.”

  I rubbed an eye.

  There it is.

  “I am nothing like him.”

  “You’re right,” she said lightly. “At least your father gave me the honeymoon.”

  I knew my mother was manipulating me. It was her fucking go-to. The surprising thing was that it was working. I couldn’t stop picturing Lottie, the sweetest, purest person I knew, as Tansy Crowne. My mother wasn’t born black hearted. Her heart was left out like an apple, to rot and decay.

  “I see the signs,” she continued. “Living in your wing. Bringing her to parties and on vacation. A mistress or two is fine, but you’re forgetting the most important rule.”

  A mistress always comes second.

  I clenched my jaw. “I won’t have a mistress. I won’t even fuck another woman when I’m married.”

  She smiled thinly. “You can’t be with her twenty-four seven, Grayson.”

  Ice filled my veins. “Are you threatening her?”

  My mother smiled, a warmth that didn’t reach her eyes. With no more words, she walked down the hallway, leaving me in the fading sunset’s shadows.

  I’d planned on leaving Story alone tonight. I had to meet Lottie at Unknown. We were supposed to take pictures for our upcoming wedding, after promising I didn’t have anyone. Abigail had fucking demanded we take her with us, threatened to tell on us to Mom like we were teenagers again. So tonight the boat was already going to be filled with Gemma, Abigail, and Abigail’s dog.

  Unknown was dangerous for a person like Story, someone who hadn’t grown up in my world. Forget your average everyday date raper. Unknown is filled with sex traffickers and traders—the insidious kind. The ones that promise to put you on the cover of magazines, the ones that get you in so deep you don’t even realize you’ve sold yourself until you’re famous.

  The kind that live in Hollywood.

  But I couldn’t fucking leave Snitch, not with my mother all but saying she’d ship her off to Russia.

  I tangled my hands in my hair.

  “Fuck.”

  STORY

  * * *

  Gray was gone so long the sun dropped below the ocean, stars appearing one by one like diamonds stabbed into a dark-velvet blanket.

  I tried calling my uncle to check in, but he didn’t pick up my call. I tried like twenty times. Each went to voicemail. The only way I knew he was okay was by calling the servants’ quarters and speaking with Ms. Barn. Busy, she’d said. I knew what busy meant.

  Uncle was avoiding me.

  Why?

  The door slammed open, Gray following with it. He dropped a bag into my lap seconds later.

  It smelled amazing.

  “Spaghetti?” I asked, caution lacing my tongue. Did he bring me spaghetti?

  “You should really try the seafood while we’re on the fucking Riviera,” he gritted.

  I made a face. Gross. I hate seafood. Something was…off with him, but I couldn’t be sure. After all, it wasn’t like he was talking to me.

  I fished around the bag, watching him warily. “Where did you get this?”

  “Italy,” he deadpanned.

  “Like…the country?” I stared at the spaghetti, then slowly lifted my head. “You went to Italy?”

  I stared at him, my jaw about to drop off its hinges. He said he didn’t remember my favorite food, but not only did he come back with it, it was from the country. He took hours out of his day to fly there and back.

  He’d utterly ignored me, but then he did something like this, and I didn’t know what to think.

  I think he misinterpreted my silence, because Grayson grabbed the bag like he was going to throw it in the trash. I ran and grabbed his arm, wrapping one around his bicep, reaching across his chest for the bag.

  “Wait!” I said.

  He turned his head, and our lips were so close. I could smell sugar on them. He’d been chewing suckers.

  Something was on his mind.

  His eyes dropped to mine, the air thick.

  “I’ll eat it,” I said quietly. “Thank you.”

  His eyes slowly found mine, and then I saw, saw what distance had hid. He was all kinds of twisted. His hair was a mess, as if he’d been running his hands through it over and over again.

  So I did the insane thing. I pushed the wild messy hair off his face.

  “My father cheated on my mother,” he blurted. “Kept a mistress and had three kids with her. They go to the same boarding school I did, and we’ve seen them every Thanksgiving and Christmas for as long as I can remember.”

  I knew that. Everyone knew about the bastard Crownes. They came for the holidays with all the others.

  But I waited, breath pulled.

  “I don’t know if my mom was ever a human, but I’m sure being reminded every family holiday that she was only there because he had to keep her there didn’t help. I always told myself I wouldn’t be anything like him, nothing like my grandfather. I would be loyal.” His eyes slowly found mine, burning with anguish.

  Keeping me, a mistress.

  I fiddled with the rose gold strand of hair I’d pushed above his forehead, taking a breath.

  A secret for a secret.

  “I never wanted to be like my parents either,” I whispered. “The only thing my mom taught me was how to lie. Even though I promised I would tell the truth always…it was really easy to lie to myself.”

  “Why the fuck did you kiss me?” The pain strangling his voice choked my heart. Wrapped it in razor wire, cutting and bleeding.

  “Grayson—” I started, but he cut me off.

  “When I decide to let you come again,” he growled. “Know it wasn’t for you; it was for her.”

  He dropped me like fire, stepping away so quickly I fell forward onto my hands and knees. I stared at my shadowy reflection in the glossy floor, trying to regulate my breathing, as he walked out of the suite.

  “Finish your fucking food. You’re going out tonight.”

  He dropped the bag of spaghetti next to me a moment later.

  Grayson Crowne pretended nothing mattered, but I was starting to suspect the opposite. He would do anything for the one he loved. Move the earth. Destroy the earth.

  Destroy me…

  So long as it meant he got the one he loved.

  Thirty-Two

  STORY

  * * *

  The minute we got off the boat, Grayson grabbed my wrist. Behind him, his siblings exited the boat one by one as a man dressed in white—a servant—gave them a hand.

  “Tonight you don’t know me, and I don’t know you,” Gray said.

  I gawked. “But I don’t know anyone here!”

  “Exactly. If you so much as look in their direction, I’ll start another poker game. And I’ll lose.”

  My mouth dropped, but he spun from me, only to stop an instant later and look over his shoulder. “Don’t talk to anyone. Don’t look at anyone.”

  “I don’t know anyone, remember?”

  Grayson stared at me, a look on his face I’d only ever seen when he thought no one was looking—concern. But it quickly vanished, shook off with his devil-may-care smile, as he continued on his way to find Lottie.

  I leaned against the rock, blowing a stray curl from my eye.

  This place was the
craziest thing I’ve ever seen. Girls dancing inside rock, a DJ surrounded by glowing water, mermaids swimming in it. Grayson had to maneuver the boat through a secret tunnel, too, until we reached this cliffside grotto encased by shimmering rock on three sides.

  I recognized a lot of the people here, either from serving them at parties or by their faces on magazines. One of them, Khalid, the dude who’d tried to bet on me, seemed to be walking toward me until he abruptly changed directions.

  I settled deeper against the rock, counting time by the change of electro-pop songs.

  Why even bring me along if my only job was to become one with the rock?

  “So you’re not from around here.”

  I didn’t know he was talking to me until he touched my shoulder.

  I looked up into the greenest eyes I’d ever seen.

  Holy shit.

  I knew this guy—everyone knew this guy. His movies always hit number one at the box office.

  I swallowed a cough. “How did you know?”

  He shrugged. “Everyone kind of knows everyone here.”

  “Oh…”

  “So.” He leaned forward, smiling. “Where did you come from, new girl?”

  I glanced at Gray, who’d been flirting with Lottie for the past hour. Don’t talk to anyone, he’d said…but a fucking movie star was talking to me. I’d seen actors and actresses at Crowne parties, at Crowne Point, even, but always from a distance. They never looked at me. Never smiled at me.

  “Around,” I said.

  I was breaking Grayson’s rules. I wasn’t sure if the thrill racing up my spine came from that knowledge or the fact that a movie star just laughed at what I said.

  “All right. Around. Never seen you here, though.”

  “I don’t know anything about this place,” I admitted.

  “It’s Unknown. It’s only open for one week out of the year, so for this week, everyone who’s anyone is dancing on the stages built into the rock or swimming in the water that surrounds the DJ…or fucking in the rooms built into the rock,” he added with a low voice.

  I snapped my eyes to the floor.

  Did he really just say that to me?

  “But the coolest part of Unknown is actually unknown, though,” he continued easily. “Want to see?”

  I glanced at Grayson. Flirting with Lottie. Kissing her cheek. I could stay here, heart aching. Or…I could go flirt with the guy who had just sold out theaters everywhere.

  I smiled at him. “Sure.”

  GRAY

  * * *

  When I found Lottie, she was sitting with her feet in the grotto. The water glowed with LED lights, shades of fuchsia and violet and all colors of the rainbow.

  “Here you are,” I said, taking a seat next to her.

  Lottie lifted her head at my voice, smiling. “This is my first time at Unknown since Rosey. It hasn’t changed much.”

  I rubbed the back of my neck, eyes wandering again to the wall. Khalid headed for Snitch. I caught his eye with a glare. He raised his hands, walking backward, a coughing laugh I could hear in my fucking head.

  Fucking shit, these places were incestuous.

  I pulled out a sucker, ripped the plastic off, and shoved it into my mouth. Something to distract myself.

  “Yeah, still a bunch of douches trying to get laid, and a DJ with a boner for dubstep.” We were so close to him too. Only a few feet away, spinning on a dais in the middle of the grotto.

  Lottie laughed. “I mean it’s pretty. The water is beautiful and the view…” She looked out over the cliff to the view of the twinkling ocean.

  Girls swam in the grotto, wearing mermaid fins and nothing else. Occasionally someone dove off the stages, splashing us. I swiped my forehead.

  Fuck.

  I hated this place.

  “Do you remember the first time we came here?” Lottie asked. “I was fifteen, you were sixteen. Geoff and Alaric were high on coke or something.”

  “Sounds about right,” I said, trying not to roll my eyes.

  She played with the fabric of her dress, working the sheer black material between her fingers.

  “Someone spilled their cocktail all over my white dress,” she said. “You gave me your shirt and told me not to tell anyone.”

  My brows drew. “You remember that?”

  “I remember everything about you.” She lifted her head, and our eyes locked. “I can’t stop thinking about our kiss…I’ve been looking at your orchid every night.”

  “The one next to your bed?” I arched a brow, throwing her a half smile. She didn’t return my joke. She looked up at me through her thick, dark lashes.

  “Yes.”

  Fuck.

  I reached into my pocket for a blunt—I needed more than a fucking lollipop to distract myself. I lit it and inhaled, trying to get my fucking mind focused on the beautiful girl beside me.

  “I have a present,” she said suddenly.

  I leaned back on my elbows as she reached into a glittery purse, pulling out a green pen. It wasn’t anything fancy, not some Montblanc or S.T. Dupont bullshit. It looked like something you’d get at a gas station.

  She handed it to me.

  “I meant to give it to you a while ago, but things kept getting in the way.”

  “Why did you get this for me?”

  Lottie blinked, looking like a kid with their hand in the cookie jar. “Don’t you like it?”

  “Yeah, babe, just wondering how that mind works.”

  She blushed, which should’ve driven me wild. Instead I looked for Snitch. She was still settled against the wall, looking bored.

  Lottie doesn’t deserve this. Doesn’t deserve someone like me, whose heart is halved.

  Why the fuck did Snitch have to be the one I grabbed? Why wasn’t Lottie in that fucking room?

  Some dildo movie star wandered up to Snitch. My eyes sharpened on him. That guy had a reputation for taking pictures of girls who were too “sleepy” to know better.

  “I don’t know,” Lottie said. “I just had a feeling.”

  Snitch looked like a missionary among the heathens. Her eyes were wide, starstruck, as the dildo leaned forward to brush something off her shoulder. She laughed. Who the fuck is vampire boy and where does he get off touching her?

  “Gray? Do you want to get a drink or something?”

  I tried to shake out of it, give my attention back to Lottie, but Snitch lifted off the rock as if to follow the asshole. I stood up quickly, tossing my blunt into the water. Some mermaid in the process of dumping her margarita yelled at me for littering.

  “Where are you going?” Lottie asked.

  I squeezed her shoulder. “Need some air. I’ll be right back.”

  STORY

  * * *

  Hollywood guy wound his fingers in mine, leading me through the crowd. “It’s just beyond here.”

  It felt wrong to hold his hand, wrong and dangerous, but I let him. I let him weave us through the crowd, past skimpy dresses and bikinis that shone like dragon scales. Above us, I even caught a glimpse of Abigail dancing on one of the stages, until we were at the edge of the club, overlooking the black sea.

  Technically Grayson hadn’t said anything about holding hands with others.

  “Do you know what’s inside these rocks?” Hollywood asked.

  “Shouldn’t you be deep-throating the Academy?”

  Grayson.

  Grayson, with a twinkling sea of dancing at his back.

  Hollywood heartthrob stared at me a moment longer, then slowly lifted his bright-green eyes.

  “Nice to see you, too, Crowne,” he said easily.

  Grayson didn’t look at me, but I knew better now than to think his attention wasn’t laser focused on me.

  “This one belongs to me.”

  Hollywood eyed me. “Didn’t see your name on her.”

  Grayson stepped forward and grabbed my elbow, his grip surprisingly gentle. “It’s not on me they don’t teach you to read in Hollywood.”<
br />
  Grayson didn’t wait for his response, dragging me away.

  “Talk to you later, new girl…” Hollywood’s voice drifted over my shoulder. Grayson’s grip tightened at his voice. It excited me—it shouldn’t have, but it did.

  My heart pounded. At Hollywood’s attention, at Grayson’s tight grip, at being talked about like I was little more than dirt once more.

  Grayson shoved me into a room built into the rock and slammed the door.

  “Am I not giving you enough attention?” he asked, tone deadly impassive. “Did you forget what you signed already?”

  “Don’t talk to anyone,” I mumbled. “But that’s an insane request, and I won’t fucking follow it. And he came up to me.”

  A pause followed, the thumping beat pounding against the rock like it wanted to get in.

  “Why do you care?” I asked.

  He laughed. “I don’t give a shit.”

  “Liar,” I yelled. “You act like nothing matters, like you’re just as corrupt and depraved as the rest of them, but I see you, Gray.”

  He stepped closer, voice a low snarl. “What do you think you see?”

  I stuttered. “I—I—”

  “Tell me, Snitch. What do you see?” He cornered me against the wall, shoulders wide and head bent. Forcing me to crane my neck back to see into his eyes. “You must have painted a pretty fucking picture in your head. I wonder if you can outdo my stans—their pictures are pretty goddamn perfect.”

  “It’s not pretty,” I whispered at last.

  He reeled, and even in the low light, I saw the surprise, the furrowed brow.

  Then he slammed his hands on either side of my head. “I should get it over with, right? Fuck you. Get you out of my system.” His hands came to my dress, hiking up the fabric. “The girl I’ve always wanted finally wants to make it work, but the girl I never wanted won’t get out of my fucking head.”

  “I...” My word dripped off on a gasp, or was it a sigh? As his hands fisted my dress higher, his body pressing hot into mine. “That’s not what I meant,” I managed.

  “What’s your safe word.”

  I met his eyes. “Mr. Crowne.”