Sitting in the parking lot like the stalker I was, I turned off my headlights and waited for Madison to go inside and Clara’s Uber to come and pick her up. A better man would have left Madison alone tonight. A better man would have understood that she was vulnerable, that she’d just had a terrible humiliation, and probably wanted some peace and quiet.
I followed her inside.
6
Madison
Eleven Years Ago…
I didn’t even want to come to the Durant’s party. I hadn’t busted my butt to graduate from high school two years early to spend my first week of summer hanging out with all the vapid social climbers I’d just escaped. But Clara had been invited by her sister, and she was eager to join the popular crowd as she entered her Junior year. Clara promised that only a few people from our school had been invited, and it was at the Durants’ compound, a place I’d only heard about. My curiosity about the Durant-Breyer clan overruled my general dislike for large social gatherings.
The estate more than lived up to my expectations. Tall and enormous, the castle-like home bore more than a passing resemblance to Wayne Manor. The gathering storm clouds overhead did nothing to ease the imposing façade. I couldn’t imagine growing up there. It seemed like no place for kids. Built out of dark grey stone and emerging suddenly from the surrounding lush acreage around a bend, the estate was elegant and vast.
At first sight, I worried that I was out of my league. I’d met the Durant and Breyer boys before, but it had been at least five years. They were all in college now or even graduated.
I was quickly proven right; I was in way over my head. Once Angelica, Clara and I finally found the party—in the ‘boathouse’ down the road a bit from the main estate—it was clear to me that we were outclassed.
It was a ‘boathouse’ in the same sense that my parents’ garage apartment was a ‘carriage house’. The structure was easily twice the size of the average American house. Despite being built on water, I didn’t see any boats inside. There’s something about being wealthy that seems to make people like to misname architecture.
I spent most of the party hugging the wall with Clara by my side, turning down various expensive, illicit drugs and cocktails of indeterminate composition. I also had to turn down a sizeable number of tipsy guys wanted to ‘go somewhere less crowded’ with me. I nursed the same gross light beer for an hour, taking careful, tiny sips like it was poison. Angelica effortlessly worked the room, leaving Clara and I to flounder on the outskirts. Everyone around me seemed so much older, more sophisticated, more cultured and well-travelled than me. In hindsight, they were probably only in their early twenties, but that seems a lot more mature than it is when you’ve just turned seventeen. I did my best to keep up.
“So where do you summer?” I was asked more than once. I received confused looks when I responded that I voluntarily spent most of my summers doing mission work in South America. I should have just lied and said “the Hamptons” like everyone else.
At least the university I would be attending in the fall, Dartmouth, was Ivy League. It wasn’t Yale or Harvard, but it wasn’t chopped liver either. I didn’t mention that I was on a merit scholarship.
At some point we lost track of Angelica. She’d vanished, and it was getting late. By that point, the rain had started pouring outside—one of those summer storms that seem to come from nowhere. We heard Angelica’s distinctive laughter coming from upstairs just after the power went out and everyone was fumbling to light candles and find flashlights.
“Angelica?” Clara had called, groping up the stairs with my phone lighting the way.
“In here!” Hand-in-hand, Clara and I crept down the boathouse’s narrow, dark hallway, pushing open a guestroom door to find a group of five or six people sitting in a circle on the ground, “Play with us,” Angelica suggested, patting the ground next to her and scooting over a few of the candles that lit the room, “we have two more boys than girls anyway.”
“Sure!” Clara agreed before consulting me, “We’d love to.”
I could feel myself blushing, but I prayed it was too dark for anyone else to notice. I’d seen him.
One of the boys—well they were all young men, really—was Alexander Durant.
My heart did a little flip-flop in my chest. I had probably been introduced to him as a kid, but I didn’t know who he was when I saw him at first. All I knew in that moment was that he was the best-looking guy I’d ever seen, with perfect skin, high cheekbones, and a strong, square jaw. His dark hair was a little overlong then, and my fingers practically twitched to brush it back off his face.
In that second, I wanted very badly for him to want to look at me and kiss me. I’d never wanted anything so badly in my life. My hormones were pinging wildly through my body, and it was making me lightheaded.
“This is my sister Clara and her friend Madison Clark,” Angelica announced. “Clara, Maddie, this is Alexander Durant…” The names of the others were mostly just noise, although I distantly heard both Breyer brothers named as well as the other Durant heirs. When Alexander looked at me I was instantly transfixed, pinned like a butterfly for taxonomic identification by an entomologist. I squirmed, suddenly acutely aware of my girlish flowery mini-dress, messy long hair, and worn-in Doc Martens. He probably thought I looked like a hillbilly. Most of the girls at the party were wearing nice dresses and heels.
“Angelica, how old are they?” Alexander asked, raising an eyebrow as Clara and I sat down awkwardly, “They look like jailbait.”
We were definitely jailbait.
“Madison’s a freshman at Dartmouth,” Angelica replied smoothly without answering the question, “It was my turn to go. And this time, I pick David. Truth or Dare?”
“Truth. I’m too lazy to get up.”
“Ok. What is the stupidest thing you’ve ever done?”
“That’s easy,” Nathan interrupted, replying for his brother, “He bought three thousand live ladybugs off the internet one night while drunk because he heard they were good luck. Then he forgot. When they got delivered to our Frat house two days later, he stabbed open the package with some scissors and they came swarming out. It was horrifying. I still find dozens of dead ones every time I clean.”
“Hey! This is my question, Jerk-face,” David snapped, “And you never clean. But, listen, they came in this little soup-looking container. I thought it was a cup’o’noodles. And that wasn’t what I was gonna say, but let’s go with that. The real truth is far worse. But for interrupting my turn, I pick you, Nathan. Truth or Dare?”
“Dare. Do your worst.”
David laughed menacingly, and the smile fell from Nathan’s face.
“You asked for it. Go downstairs. Bend at the waist so that you are looking behind you between your legs. Then run backwards until you can tag a female with your butt.”
Yikes. I suddenly began to reconsider if I wanted to play this game. Nathan seemed to be reaching the same conclusion.
“What the fuck?”
“D-did I s-s-tutter? Go on. Do it. Don’t come back until you tag a new ladyfriend.”
“I hate you,” Nathan said, rising reluctantly and then heading toward the door, “Do I have to go down the stairs like that, or can I assume the position once I’m down there?”
“You can go down normal. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you. I mean besides humiliation. Andrew, you can go next since Nate’s gonna be busy for a while.”
The questions were mostly benign for a while after that. Hoping to impress Alexander, I answered a couple of embarrassing truth questions that I’m sure revealed what a naïve, virgin, idiot I was. I even did a dare from Clara, dragging my butt along the carpet like a dog from one end of the room to the other.
As the evening wore on, the tone of the game began to escalate. Maybe it was the candlelight, the sound of the thunderstorm raging outside, or just the alcohol. Either way, the questions became increasingly risqué and the dares more suggestive. Soon, I began to f
eel uncomfortable. Someone made a girl named Brianna do a one minute, pole dance against an invisible pole and when it was her turn she was out for revenge.
Brianna was a long-legged redhead with dimples and porcelain skin. She looked about twenty-one. She made me feel like an ugly, baby midget. When her turn came, she looked at Clara and I for a long minute before deciding which of us to torture.
“Clara,” She finally said, “Truth or dare?”
Clara blinked, took a deep breath, and said, “Truth.”
“What is the grossest thing you have ever had in your mouth?”
The group giggled at the question, and in the ensuing silence, we could hear muffled curses, exclamations, and scuffling downstairs over the pumping bass of a battery operated boombox as Nathan attempted to make good on his dare. He’d been down there a very long time.
“When I was little I ate a wax earplug,” Clara finally said, causing most of us to recoil, “Angelica told me it was coconut flavored gum. It had been used. It didn’t taste anything like coconut.”
That sounded like something Angelica would do.
“I pick Angelica,” Clara said next, perhaps hoping for a little sisterly revenge, “Truth or Dare.”
“Dare,” Angelica said, grinning like the Cheshire cat.
“Hold your breath for two whole minutes.”
I really didn’t think she could do it. She turned pink, then red, then an unhealthy, ruddy purple. But Angelica was nothing if not stubborn. I had to hand it to her. Clara kept the time on her phone. At the end we all counted down from ten for her and clapped.
When she finally caught her breath again, I could see her attention zero in on Alexander like a laser.
“Truth or dare?” She purred at him, voice still raspy, perhaps hoping he’d be impressed by her recent feat.
“Dare.”
“Kiss someone in this room.”
Alexander looked at Angelica with a mild amusement, seemingly neither surprised nor concerned by her choice of dare. I’d have died if someone had asked me to do that. Then I’d have kissed Clara on the cheek and run away.
He looked around the circle at the four girls. Brianna, Angelica, Clara and I collectively blushed and stared. The guys rolled their eyes. One of his cousins made kissy noises at him.
“Madison,” He finally said, causing me to practically faint with joy, “come here.”
I crawled awkwardly across the little circle on my hands and knees, taking my beer with me for comfort. I stopped about a half a foot away from him. I can only imagine how desperate I looked, kneeling in front of him, lips parted, eyes wide. I stared up into his fathomless black eyes. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to kiss me, too.
“How old are you?” He asked me after a long second. I blinked at him, confused at the question. I thought he was going to kiss me?
“I told you—” Angelica interrupted, saying again that I was a Dartmouth student and to either do the dare or pick truth, but Alexander grabbed my shoulders and pulled me closer to him. His mouth was an inch away from mine. I was frozen, not sure if he was going to kiss me or interrogate me.
“How old are you, Madison?” He whispered, sounding furious and shaking my shoulders with his huge, strong hands.
“Seventeen.” I said quietly, dropping my eyes. I couldn’t have lied to him; he was too beautiful. I just wanted him to like me. Alexander swore foully with the mouth he wouldn’t kiss me with.
“You’re a fucking baby. Obviously, a virgin too. I could tell by your answers and by your baby fat. Get out of here. You too Clara,” He said, releasing and pushing me back. His voice practically dripped with condescension. I blinked at him again, still waiting for my kiss. “Go home!” He repeated louder at me, almost yelling, “Jesus, are you freaking deaf? The last thing I need are some high school girls getting in trouble here. Go sell Girl Scout cookies or something.”
I reached for my beer, but he batted my hand away from it with a haughty look. Dejected, I left it sitting on the ground. The rest of the group laughed at our banishment, Angelica included, and I felt lightheaded and humiliated.
Clara and I scrambled toward the door, just in time to pass Nathan coming back down the hall, victorious with his dare at last. He’d collected a couple of new girls from downstairs. I heard Angelica ordering Alexander to kiss someone again as we went down the stairs. He chose one of the new girls.
Clearly, we were easily replaced.
7
Alexander
Eleven Years Ago…
She looked like sexy Snow White. I recognized her immediately, although I could tell from her wide stare that she had no idea who I was. The little snot-nose brat that I’d run into at various functions and parties over the years—always getting into trouble or making some kind of scene— was all grown up. Well, not all grown up, but grown up enough. And she looked like she was designed by some evil god to torture me.
Small, but with an intensely hourglass figure and proportionately long arms and legs, Madison looked like a sexy, grunge, Disney Princess in her short dress and boots. Her curly brown hair was wild over her delicate shoulders, and her porcelain skin and enormous hazel eyes were doll-like. In the candlelight (the power never did come back on), everything about her seemed so soft and dreamlike. Why on earth would Angelica drag this innocent creature and her own baby sister to one of our depraved college parties?
I really shouldn’t have been there myself. At almost twenty-three I was getting too old and too grumpy to put up with the drunken antics of co-eds. College was behind me now. I was only there because it was convenient and because I was told it would be more fun than playing my Xbox alone in my room.
Until Madison walked in, I was sorely regretting the decision. The older I got, the less patience I had for the constant and unavoidable jostling for rank between my cousins. I’d never been known for my patience. As the oldest of the bunch, I often had to play de facto referee. It was exhausting. There’s a reason that male lions leave the pride at sexual maturity. Otherwise their hormones force them to fight their own male relatives, sometimes to the death. At least the Xbox never got sloppy drunk and fucked the dvd player’s girlfriend or got into a scuffle with the cable box.
Enter Angelica. She’d been hunting me since before I think she knew she was a hunter, and although conventionally pretty, she was a demonstrable psycho and manipulative bitch. So manipulative, in fact, that she would bring her own sister and her sister’s friend to the sort of party where they’d be regarded as nothing more than fresh meat. Clara and Madison giggled and blushed along with game of truth or dare, making it painfully obvious that they had no business being there at all.
That was a new low, even for Angelica.
Party favors. That’s what Clara and Madison were. I wonder which one of my cousins invited her in return for the promise that she’d bring a few pretty friends. Strike that. I didn’t want to know. It was better that way.
When Angelica dared me to kiss someone in the room, she obviously wanted me to pick her. I’d made the mistake of leading her on, both because she was hot in an evil way, and because it was easier than rejecting her. But her behavior had been escalating over the last few years. I told myself I picked Madison to anger Angelica, but it wasn’t really true.
When Madison was right in front of me, I hesitated. She was so perfect, so innocent and worst of all, so interested in me, that I choked. I didn’t want to use her just to piss off Angelica. What I wanted to do involved pulling her alone into another room and ripping her pretty little dress to pieces right before I did the same to her innocence. I should have picked someone else in the room for Angelica’s stupid dare, but she was the only one I wanted.
Wanting Madison Clark was not a good idea for a range of reasons, the legal age of consent being chief among them. The last thing I needed was to be charged with corruption of a minor. And corrupting her was precisely what I wanted to do. Madison’s father was the best lawyer in the state, which was why he was ou
r lawyer. The fallout of such an event could be… messy.
So instead I threw her out and assumed she was gone. That’s why when she appeared an hour later at the door to the boathouse guest room, I rudely asked,
“What the fuck are you still doing here?”
“I can’t find Clara!” She announced, not to me but to Angelica, who had just finished making out with Brianna on my dare and was pulling the straps to her dress back up. Madison ignored me entirely, which irritated me. I was rarely ignored, especially by girls.
Angelica sighed dramatically. “Did you check the bathroom?” She asked Madison. She looked unconcerned.
“Yes! I checked everywhere,” Madison snapped, “I turned my back for one second and then she was gone. You need to come help me look for her.”
“Did you call her?” Angelica asked next, staring at Madison like she was the dumbest creature alive. Usually, that look was enough to send someone scuttling away with their tail tucked. I’d seen her use it plenty of times on boys she thought were unworthy of sharing her oxygen. But Madison stared right back, utterly unaffected.
“I would, if her phone hadn’t died hours ago in the car. Remember? You were sitting right next to her. We had a whole conversation about your broken charger. Are you going to help me look for her or not?”
“Not,” Angelica replied with a sneer, “Now get out of here. Alexander doesn’t like you.”
“Jesus Christ, Angelica,” I heard someone saying, but Madison had already stormed off back down the stairs, shooting a dirty look at both Angelica and me as she departed. Collectively, the peer pressure from the rest of the room forced Angelica to follow Madison a moment later. I followed too, more out of curiosity about the dynamic between Madison and Angelica than any real concern for Clara. She was probably just making out with someone.
Bleeding Heart (Scions of Sin Book 1) Page 4