Jewels And Panties: (Book 1-15) Billionaire Romance Series

Home > Romance > Jewels And Panties: (Book 1-15) Billionaire Romance Series > Page 55
Jewels And Panties: (Book 1-15) Billionaire Romance Series Page 55

by Brooke Kinsley

“But it’s not what you think.”

  Inside, my stomach was churning as a dark pit began to fill me up until it was eclipsing my whole body with rage.

  “You… You… Slept with someone?”

  I couldn’t believe it and prayed that somehow I was getting all mixed up. Of course, he wouldn’t cheat on me. We were solid. We’d been through so much. If there was anything I could trust him with was his fidelity.

  But the look on his face answered for me.

  “It really isn’t what you think,” he said but I couldn’t bear to hear it.

  I was so angry it was though my whole body was filled with rocket fuel. Tears streamed down my face, hot and angry before falling onto my feet.

  “Bastard!” I screamed and reached for a nearby jar of makeup.

  I threw it at him and he ducked just in time before smashing into pieces on the wall behind him.

  “How could you!”

  I threw another one, then another. Then I was trashing the entire room, pulling the shower curtain down and tearing it to shreds before knocking everything to the ground. Shards of glass now littered the room, sparkling on the floor like crystals.

  “Why!”

  He clapped his hands over his face and just watched me as both me and the room fell apart. When there was nothing else to break, I stood still and felt the breath struggle to come out of me. In all my life, I had never felt so betrayed.

  “Honey?” mom called up the stairs. “What’s going on up there?”

  I took a deep breath and placed a hand on my chest.

  “Nothing,” I replied, but I was fighting the urge to collapse.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah… I just…”

  I took one last look at Lincoln then walked away.

  “I just need to take a walk,” I said to mom.

  She met me on the stairs and saw the tears down my face.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing.”

  “It doesn’t look like nothing. Etta, what’s go-“

  “I said nothing!”

  She hurried into the bathroom and saw the devastation.

  “Etta!” she screamed.

  But I had my eyes on the front door. I needed out of this house, away from all these people. I needed air, some space to think and process what I’d just discovered.

  Marcia was in the hall as I reached the foot of the stairs. Her shoes were still in the kitchen and she continued to walk around as though it was her house, as though I was merely a trifling inconvenience.

  “Huh…” she said and tilted her head back as I barged past her. “Trouble in paradise?”

  I looked deep into her dark, endless eyes and felt the rage bubble up inside me. Then I slapped her face and walked out the house.

  “Etta!”

  “Honey!”

  Both mom and Lincoln were calling after me but I just kept on walking. One foot in front of another until I reached the end of the long drive and the main road lay ahead of me. To my right, it stretched off far into the distance.

  Olive trees lined the road along with the occasional rose bush. A stray dog meandered by, its fur scraggy and muddied.

  To my left, the road wound around the hill toward San Lucrezia. I took one last look at the house and listened to the sound of my tears drip onto the sandy street. In the afternoon heat, I felt as though I couldn’t breathe. The strong sun was making my head ache already and the skin on my shoulders burn. Yet I couldn’t go back.

  I was filled with endless, angry energy. I needed to burn it off, needed to just walk and walk until I felt nothing.

  Looking back toward the left, I saw the dog was watching me, its tail beginning to wag as it approached. It was so skinny with its ribs protruding from its papery skin. It was filthy too and walked with a limp, but still, it wagged its tail, pleased to see a friend in me. Maybe we were bonded by our misery.

  I found myself following the dog and taking the long road that drifted away into nothingness. The dog barked as I walked over to it then jumped up to greet me, its brittle claws scratching at my dress.

  “Down!”

  It smelled rotten.

  “Down boy!”

  It wagged its tail some more and walked along beside me. I looked over my shoulder one last time and saw the blue Volkswagen Beetle drive out of the main gate. I waited for it to follow me but as it reached the crossroads, it turned left and made its way into town.

  Chapter Six

  LINCOLN

  Norma brewed some highly caffeinated tea. It came out the pot looking like rusty water.

  “I suppose you’re not going to tell me who that woman was,” she said.

  “There’s nothing to tell.”

  “That’s not what Etta thinks,” she said.

  “She thinks wrong.”

  The effects of whatever drug I’d been given were starting to wear off but I still felt vile and my insides were still churning.

  “When she comes back I’ll explain everything,” I said.

  I felt even sicker at the thought of telling her about Lolita. Or rather Lolicia. I knew she was trouble the second I saw her but I don’t know why I stuck around to prove my suspicions.

  “If there’s nothing to tell, what is there to explain?” Norma asked and slammed down the teapot.

  Fuck, was all I could think. Fuck!

  We came here to get away from all the trouble but things were getting steadily worse. Yet there was one thing that encouraged me. Etta had left her purse behind. It sat draped over the chair in the corner of the kitchen, waiting for her to come back. She never went anywhere without it.

  She’d be back, I thought. She has to be.

  Not to mention it was too hot. A few hours out there and she’d be burned and dehydrated.

  “Probably just taking a walk to calm down,” said Norma as she sat down across from me.

  She saw the sadness in my eyes. I crossed my arms on the table, lowered my head down and closed my eyes.

  “This can’t be happening,” I said. “I’d never do anything to hurt her. You know that, don’t you?”

  “I know,” sighed Norma. “And she knows that too. She’ll be back.”

  My hands were sweaty against the table and I clenched them into fists. My whole body was exhausted as it detoxed whatever substance that bitch gave me.

  “You’re going to have to tell her what was happening with that woman,” said Norma. “Or you can at least tell me. A beautiful woman like that turns up here and walks around like she owns the place. A minute later and Etta’s destroying the bathroom… You gotta give me something. None of that is normal.”

  My headache began to subside but my mouth was dry like sandpaper. I poured myself a cup of tea and piled in a heaped spoonful of sugar.

  “I don’t wanna talk about her,” I said. “She’s nothing. A nobody.”

  “How did you meet her?” asked Norma as she sipped her tea.

  In another life, this would be the most normal of afternoons. Just a guy drinking tea with his mother in law, but of course this was no normal life.

  “I met her because her daughter robbed me,” I explained, shamefully.

  “What? Are you serious?”

  “More serious than ever.”

  “Jesus, I knew you had a rough night but…”

  “You don’t even know the half of it.”

  Despite not being fully aware of what I was doing, I couldn’t help but be filled with regret at what I had done. Or rather, what Lolicia had done.

  No matter how much I tried to rationalize it, I felt as though it was my fault. I should have been smarter, shouldn’t have been led so easily by the girl, should have been strong enough to leave her. But I was enraptured by her beauty and in my weakened state, I’d been led along by her and because what? She’d given me the attention I craved?

  I cringed at how naïve I was.

  “Norma?”

  She looked up from her teacup. I noticed that Etta had inherite
d her eyes but not much else.

  For a moment, I thought about telling her the truth about last night but as I parted my lips, I changed my mind and found myself blurting out something else.

  “It’s about the first time I met you,” I said.

  “What do you mean?”

  She furrowed her brows and looked at me as though I was mad.

  “When you meet your girlfriend’s mom, it’s supposed to be an important day, right? But the first time we met we were fleeing from a dead body.”

  She held my gaze for a minute, her eyes harsh and unimpressed. Then, when I thought she was going to give me a piece of her mind, she burst out laughing.

  I joined in, the two of us laughing at the sheer absurdity of our lives.

  “Hey, well at least you’re not boring,” she said. “And it’ll be a great story to tell to your grandchildren one day.”

  I promptly stopped laughing.

  “Grandchildren?” I asked. “We haven’t even got children yet!”

  Her smile faded and she leaned across the table.

  “You are going to have children, aren’t you?”

  “Erm… It’s not exactly on the radar.”

  Right now, I didn’t know if Etta was ever going to talk to me again let alone want to have children with me.

  “You should,” urged Norma. “Children are the best gift you could ever want.”

  I wasn’t convinced. Other people’s children were occasionally tolerable but the idea of having my own, of being responsible for their lives, it wasn’t something that made me feel comfortable.

  “We’ll see…” I said.

  “That doesn’t sound promising.”

  “It is. Really, I’m not completely adverse to the idea. Actually, if I’m being perfectly honest, I’d always liked the idea of being a father. There’s something nice and comforting about just the idea of having a family but I never felt like I was really cut out for that life.”

  She shot me a skeptical look.

  “If there’s anyone in this world who can afford to be a good father it’s you, Lincoln.”

  I thought for a minute about the ordinary houses that lined my parents’ street and how it wasn’t so long ago that I strove to find my own little patch of normality. That notion seemed so far away now. Now, more than ever it seemed completely unattainable.

  “It’s not about the money,” I said. “It’s so much more than that.”

  Norma looked away, disappointed. She clearly had hopes for her daughter and who could blame her for that. Everyone wants stability for their children and that was the one thing I hadn’t given Etta.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” I said. “I want to be with her for the rest of my life. I love her more than anything.”

  The words sounded saccharine sweet coming out my mouth but it was truly how I felt. Norma cheered up in an instant and reached across the table for my hand.

  “You really mean that?”

  “Of course I do. Actually… There’s something I wanted to talk to you about but with everything going on, there didn’t really seem to be the right time.”

  She squeezed my hand tighter.

  “Go on.”

  “I, erm, was thinking of…”

  I slid my hand into my pocket for the ring box. Norma would have loved the ring, especially when I told her it was my own mom’s. It was something money couldn’t buy. It was special and sentimental, not simply some random purchase from Tiffany’s.

  “Thinking of what?”

  “Asking Etta to marry me.”

  Norma blinked at me for a second. I was overcome with panic and assumed I’d made her mad somehow. It wasn’t until her mouth spread so wide I was sure her dentures were about to fall out that my heart rate began to lower.

  She squealed like a banshee and jumped up to hug me.

  “You know she’ll say yes!” she screamed.

  “I wanted to show you the ring,” I said and went to clutch the box.

  But it wasn’t there.

  I should have known it wasn’t.

  The memory of last night came back to me. I remembered how the ring had tumbled onto the floor only for it to find its way to Lolicia’s finger a moment later.

  “Bitch!” I raged. “Fuck!”

  Norma looked up at me, confused.

  “She stole it!”

  “What are you talking about?”

  I couldn’t handle it anymore and staggered out into the sunlight. There was the overwhelming urge inside me to be cleansed. Pulling off my clothes, I stripped until I was naked and Norma was watching me through the window, embarrassed. She shook her head, exasperated with me.

  After a deep breath, I sank myself into the pool and felt the warm water melt the knots in my aching muscles. Up above, the sun burned my eyes. I looked up and saw there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky.

  Chapter Seven

  ETTA

  “You’re a skinny thing, aren’t you?”

  The dog raised its weary head and blinked its crusted eyes. I wished I had something to give it but all I had were my hands and so I bent down and massaged its ears. It looked up at me as though I was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen.

  “Aaw, you like that?”

  It whimpered and pressed its head into my hand.

  We’d been walking for about twenty minutes although it was hard to tell the time out here. The sun was still high in the sky at its zenith. I looked back toward the house and knew that I should return.

  What the hell am I doing out here anyway? I thought.

  It was starting to get too hot and my mouth was dry. Still, I found that the dog was making an unlikely companion and it took my mind off the thousands of thoughts that were drifting around my head, if only for a moment.

  In the distance, I could hear a rumbling noise. I squinted through the sunlight and saw the heat haze float up from the melting tarmac. A tractor, red and rusted, came around the corner. It bobbed up and down as though it was struggling to breathe.

  Behind the wheel, an old man smoked a pipe and bounced along with it. His eyes met mine then he looked down to the dog. As he approached, he stepped on the brakes and the tractor shuddered to an anti-climactic halt.

  “Hola!”

  “Speak English?”

  He huffed, annoyed.

  “A little,” he said as he blew out smoke. “You’re from that house up there, yes? The house of the billionaire.”

  “Word must get around fast,” I said. “Yeah. That’s our house.”

  He watched me warily for a moment before pointing his pipe down at the dog.

  “What is this?”

  He looked disgusted at the poor thing.

  “He’s a stray. He’s sick,” I said.

  “Looks like he needs a good meal and some water.”

  He looked back to me.

  “You look like you need the same.”

  “No, I’m fine,” I said.

  “But you’re crying.”

  I hadn’t even noticed that the tears were still falling.

  “Come,” he said and patted his seat.

  I stared at him.

  “Come! Bring dog too.”

  “Erm… No. Really, I need to go home.”

  “But you want to save the dog, no?”

  Of course I did. I looked down at him and he was panting heavily. If we didn’t get him some water he’d more than likely die out here.

  “I do,” I said. “You live near here?”

  “Just behind that hill,” he said and pointed his pipe out toward a field. “Come.”

  There was the overwhelming urge to return home but at the same time, there was an even greater feeling that I didn’t want to face my problems. I looked at the old man and thought he looked harmless enough. Then I looked down at the dog and knew it needed me.

  “Okay,” I sighed and climbed up into the cabin.

  The seat was only big enough for one person but I pressed myself up against the old man and bun
dled the dog onto my lap. It was a tight squeeze and the guy smelled like hay and manure mixed with tobacco.

  “We save thedog,” he said and started up the tractor. “And you get a drink too of course.”

  He winked at me and it made me a little queasy.

  ~

  The house was not where he said it was. Or maybe I’d misheard him. We’d been driving for so long but it was now past the point of no return and I was apprehensive to demand he turn back. Especially when the dog was still gasping for water with its bones sticking into my thighs. The poor little guy was overheating.

  “Don’t worry, dude. We’ll take care of you.”

  I rubbed its ears again and it looked up, grateful as though it could understand me.

  At last, when I thought we were never going to arrive, a large farmyard appeared. Animals roamed around a rickety looking shack, disorganized and foul smelling.

  “We’re here!” beamed the old man.

  Relieved, I jumped down and carried the dog in my arms while trying to pinch my nose to protect myself from the smell. I just hoped the house wasn’t as bad.

  “This way.”

  He led me toward the front door and as I stepped inside, my foot caught something and I tripped over. Looking down, I saw a chicken clucking and stomping around. Obviously, the animals had free reign of the house too.

  “Don’t mind her,” said a female voice in perfect English. “That old bird just likes to cause trouble.”

  I caught sight of a mane of black hair and the scent of wine and vanilla. Sitting at the kitchen table, was Marcia. Or at least I thought it was. She had identical hair and features and the voice was similar too but she was far younger.

  As she sucked on a cigarette, she leaned onto the table and I noticed a devil tattoo on her left breast.

  “My granddaughter,” said the old man, waving over to her.

  She smiled and gave me a wink.

  “Your boyfriend is Mr Bosworth,” she said.

  “Jesus, does everyone know about us?”

  “Pretty much,” she shrugged and blew out smoke.

  The old man filled up a bowl of water and placed it down for the dog who began lapping it up.

  “Sit,” he told me and gestured toward the table.

  He filled up a miniature crystal glass with cherry wine and thrust it into my hand. I sipped on it and thought it tasted like cough medicine.

 

‹ Prev