It had been too hot to sleep. Los Angeles was humid as hell sometimes, but for some reason the air seemed too thick to breathe here. Her brain wouldn’t stop working, either. That had played a big part in her sleepless night. The other reasons were twofold: firstly, the instant she fell asleep, just like any other night since the Queen of Hearts motel, Farley saw her mom. Except last night, when Farley found herself slashing and cutting at her mother, she wasn’t a whyte. Her face, her eyes, her clothes, everything about her was normal. She’d stared up with bewildered acceptance as Farley shoved her into the murky pool and stabbed her over and over again. The terror of that nightmare woke Farley on the brink a panic attack.
And secondly, of course, was whatever the hell had happened with Daniel and that girl last night. But Farley wasn’t thinking about that. She refused; it only led to manic sobbing, which made her feel ridiculous. She’d never cried over a boy before, and she was damned if she was going to make a habit of it.
This room had clearly been someone else’s once upon a time. There were signs of that other person everywhere she looked, now that it was light enough to see. A huge corkboard on the other side of the room had countless post-its tacked all over it, each covered with reminders in a loopy, girlish handwriting. Some had goofy-looking caricatures of animals sketched on them in red and purple biro. There were quite a few phone numbers up there as well, the digits belonging to people with names like J-Dog and Biz and Angelique. A handful of dog-eared movie stubs were pinned along the top, all of them from chick-flicks released well over a year ago. Farley had even been bribed into seeing a couple of them with her mom.
A white vanity stand took up a huge amount of space against the wall close to the picture window that overlooked the clearing in the front of the cabin. On the stand were a dozen half-full perfume bottles- the cheap, tacky kind that half-baked movie stars and pop singers brought out to boost their flagging careers. The combination of their smells was sickly sweet and cloying, and wasn’t helping with the ghost of a headache throbbing around Farley’s temples.
The sunlight moved from warming her hands up her body until it came to lie across her throat. In a matter of moments it would rise up to shine directly into her face. Farley heaved herself up and manoeuvred on the bed so she sat with her back against the wall, knees drawn up to her chest so she could prop her chin up on them.
When it came, the knock was little more than a gentle tap. She knew who it was. Who else would it be? There was no way she was ready to talk to him yet.
“Not now, Daniel.”
“Yeah… not Daniel,” came the voice from other door. A female voice. “Are you still asleep? It’s past eight, y’know. Do I need to come back later on this afternoon?”
It wasn’t Tess. A bolt of something hot and unpleasant flashed through Farley, making her eyes prick. She got up off the bed and marched to the door, yanking it a little too hard when she opened it.
On the other side of the door a pair of cool blue eyes greeted her, studying her with poorly masked contempt. It wasn’t who Farley had suspected. For some reason she’d thought it was that Cassie girl, come to apologise in the light of day. Instead, a redheaded girl stood waiting with her other hands on her hips. The green dress she wore looked like something off of an haute couture runway- definitely not an outfit a normal person would wear in their every day lives. It was all flimsy pleats and wisps of fabric, and barely covered her curvy frame. She pouted her lips; they were coated in a sugary layer of bubblegum-pink lip-gloss that looked like it was that fake, chemically strawberry flavour.
“Hi,” the girl said.
“Hi,” Farley returned.
The girl with the lip-gloss raked over her and raised an eyebrow. “So you’re Farley?”
It was an accusation rather than a question. Farley shrank back behind the door a little, self-conscious in the thin camisole and scruffy shorts she’d worn to bed. Her hair was probably standing on end as usual. The other girl appeared to take her silence as an affirmative.
“I’m Anna. This used to be Charlie’s room. I’ve been storing some of my shoes in her closet. I’ve run out of space in mine. Is it alright if I grab them?” She didn’t wait for an answer; she stalked into the room and pulled open a door to the built-in wardrobe, stooping to collect a pair of bright pink stilettos. They had heels big enough to impale people on.
“Killer, right?” the other girl smirked.
“Yeah, sure.”
“I heard about last night,” Anna continued, hooking the heel straps of the shoes onto her index and slinging them over her shoulder. “Cassie was all wound up when I saw her and Daniel leaving this morning. I usually tell her to go get laid when she’s like that, but from what I hear that’s not going to happen. Are you really Daniel’s girlfriend?”
Farley couldn’t open her mouth for a moment. Swearing had been an offence punishable by grounding when she had been growing up, and she’d learned a long time ago to keep her jaw wired shut when she wanted to scream something seriously foul. Daniel had already gone off somewhere with Cassie this morning without even coming to see her? What did that mean?
She took a deep breath and said, “After last night, I don’t know. So he and Cassie used to sleep together?”
At no point since she’d met him had she ever imagined Daniel was a virgin, but she’d never really considered the fact that he might have slept with anyone before either. Of course he had, but it was a horrible thought, made even worse by the concept that the person he had slept with was here and she was stunningly beautiful in an exotic, delicate kind of way. If Cassie were a flower, she would be an orchid. At that precise moment, Farley felt closer to a dandelion.
Anna smiled an innocent kind of smile. “Oh, I don’t want to say anything that’s going to get anyone in trouble. All I know is that they made some pact. Y’know, one of those stupid, if we’re both single when we’re two hundred, we’ll get married and have lots of babies, agreements.”
The sudden urge to throw up flooded through Farley, making her slight headache jump from a level three to a level eight. Anna’s smile spread a little wider. She practically skipped out of the room and paused in the doorway, turning to give Farley a look over her shoulder.
“Oh, BTW, Grayson said to tell you to meet him downstairs in the library. He’s with your friends right now. He thought you might like to learn all about your forebears. See you later!”
Farley replayed Anna’s last comment in her head. The fact that she had actually said the letters BTW instead of the words was just way too clichéd. She sauntered off down the hallway with a practiced swing in her hips that probably drove guys wild. It only made Farley want to push her down the stairs. Everything about that girl made her uncomfortable. Even her teeth were itching. Didn’t want to say anything that would get anyone in trouble. Yeah, right. Anna had almost purred like a cat when she’d said, ‘get married and have lots of babies’.
The whole conversation left Farley feeling slightly dirty. She needed to get clean. It didn’t take long to find the bathroom: it was the next door along- a light, airy room with pale yellow walls and black and white tiles on the floor. In the centre of the room was a claw foot copper bathtub her mother would probably have died for, and a shower cubicle with frosted glass screens sat in the corner. She opted for the shower.
The water was far too hot and the cold tap didn’t seem to work, so she didn’t stay in there for long. Just long enough to scold the top layer of her skin off and wash her hair. The shampoo was a guy shampoo and she was probably going to smell it on herself all day. The thought only added to her black mood.
Once dressed, Farley crept down the hallway, not wanting to alert anyone of her presence, especially Anna. Aside from the room she’d slept in, there were at least six other doors on the left hand side leading off the hallway. There was no wall on the right hand side, only an open space that overlooked the massive lounge below. A wooden balustrade ran the length of the hallway on that side, broken by
the wide staircase that led down to the first floor.
She descended the stairs two at a time into the lounge, taking in everything she had been too upset to observe last night. The decor in this part of the cabin looked more like it belonged in some grand country hotel. Big portrait paintings in heavy, gilded frames; arrangements of dried flowers in vases that were probably really expensive; formally arranged seating areas with leather chairs that looked like they’d never actually been sat in. It smelled like furniture polish and beeswax. Everything screamed English country lord’s manor, not a house where tattooed people lived, or people who wore cake frosting as lip-gloss. Grayson, with his bookish demeanour, was the only one who seemed like a real fit.
As if he could sense someone thinking about him, Grayson appeared from an open doorway to the left of the lounge, his smile painfully polite.
“Good morning, Farley. Did you sleep well?”
“Not really. Where’s Daniel gone?” she snapped. It was a shame Grayson was so damn nice. If he were a jerk, then at least she wouldn’t feel bad later for being horrible to him.
“Cassie has been listening out for news on Agatha. She got a call this morning from one of our contacts back in LA. They said they had information and wanted to meet. Didn’t he tell you he was going?”
“No. No, he did not,” she spluttered. “He’s gone all the way back to LA? That means he’ll be gone for two whole days at least.”
Grayson didn’t say anything. He just looked at her with his eyebrows knitted together; they slowly rose higher and higher over the rim of his glasses.
“Right. Where’s Tess?” Farley demanded.
“In here…” He gestured into the room behind him.
Farley stomped through the lounge and barged passed him into the library, only feeling slightly stupid when she tripped on the edge of a Persian rug. The room was even bigger than the lounge, and crammed full of leather chairs at desks equipped with reading lamps. At the far side, a wall of glass spanned from the ceiling to the floor, looking out over a small deck area and a court- basketball, not tennis as she’d first thought. A giant fireplace with a marble plinth took up the majority of the right hand side of the wall, but it didn’t look like it had been used for a while. Not surprising, given that it was smoking hot already and it wasn’t even nine a.m.
And then there were the books. Boy, did this place have books. Thousands of them. Tess was bent over one at the far side of the room. The sunlight behind her threw her into shadow as it streamed in through the vast windows, and the only way Farley knew it was her was by the outline of her crazy hair. Individual strands caught the light and deepened in color, turning a deep gold, like burned honey.
“Tess?”
“Oh, hey, glad you’re up. Oliver’s making us coffee. I was just looking up the definition of eviscerate. It says here, to remove the internal organs or entrails of a person or an animal. I’m thinking maybe when Daniel gets back that might be a fitting punishment?”
“Great. Even you know he’s gone. Did you see him this morning?”
Tess nodded. “He was really pale. I mean, paler than usual, that is. I gave him my special you’ve messed with the wrong person look. He tried to talk to me but I ignored him, and then he left with that trollop.”
Trollop. Who even said trollop anymore? It was sweet that Tess was trying to make her feel better, but it really wasn’t working. “He tried to talk to you? He didn’t even try and talk to me.”
“I know they had to leave immediately to catch Cassie’s contact,” Grayson interrupted. He wrung his hands in a way that made Farley feel a little sorry for him. She suspected he didn’t have to deal with boy-related drama very often. Or maybe he did. Maybe Cassie and Daniel had drama all the time. Maybe he was an expert at defusing all of their heated, sex-fuelled drama. Farley clenched her eyes shut.
“I’m sure if he wanted to, he could have come and said goodbye at least.”
“Uh… everything happened very quickly. He probably wanted to wait and give you a proper explanation.”
“I think I just got all the explanation I needed from Anna.”
Grayson’s shoulders sagged a little. “What did she say to you?”
“Just that Daniel and Cassie have a history and they agreed to get married and have lots of babies.”
“Splendid. I swear, that girl… I really don’t think they’ll be having a baby now. Not after all this.” He drummed his fingers on the desk in a nervous way, not meeting her eyes. He entirely missed the look of horror on her face.
“You mean they actually planned to have a baby? Not just as something stupid you say when you’re agreeing to be someone’s back-up, but actually have a baby?”
Grayson went a weird color, a pallid combination of sickly white mixed alternately with blue and green. “Oh, boy. Don’t listen to me. I’m just gonna stop talking.”
“You’d better start talking, buddy,” Tess threatened. She got up from her chair, dropping her book on the desk with a loud slap. Grayson jumped.
“Look, all I know is that Cassie has wanted children for a long time. No one’s ever really measured up to her idea of the perfect partner. Just before he went with Agatha to Los Angeles, Cassie asked Daniel if he would help her out, and he said yes.”
“Help her out?!” This just wasn’t happening. Farley steadied herself by grabbing hold of the back of a nearby chair. “It’s not like he offered to loan her some money, Grayson. Agreeing to have a child with someone is a pretty big deal. You’re signing up for, like, eighteen years at least. Probably a hundred years knowing you guys! And what the hell? Why would Cassie be wanting kids?”
“She’s a hundred and eighty three years old. She’s older than Daniel. Why wouldn’t she want children? How long do you think you could roam this earth and not want to guarantee your legacy?”
Farley scowled. Okay, having a kid when you were that old probably was understandable, but so what? Cassie could have a million kids as far as she was concerned. Daniel on the other hand- what was he doing agreeing to something like that? And why the hell had he never breathed a word about this girl to her, let alone that he promised to be her baby daddy?
“Please,” Grayson pleaded, “just give him a chance to explain. Things like this are usually not as bad as they first seem.”
A loud crash echoed somewhere out in the hallway but Farley ignored it. She was too busy staring at Grayson, wondering if the glasses were a disguise and he was actually really stupid. How could he possibly think this wasn’t as bad as it first seemed? If anything, it had been better the first few moments she was processing the news. Now, all the implications and consequences of what she’d been told were really sinking in, and everything seemed to be getting infinitely worse by the second.
“Farley-” Another loud slamming noise interrupted Grayson and he frowned, pulling a little at his collar. “Does Oliver need some help?”
“No,” Tess said, slightly offended. “He knows his way around a kitchen. It’s probably that red-haired Barbie doll that was strutting around here before.”
Tess had obviously met Anna.
Grayson shook his head. “She went into town a half an hour ago. I think I’ll just…” But before he could finish his sentence, the clatter of breaking china reached them, swiftly followed by an odd scrabbling noise that sounded like a raccoon trying to fight its way out of a closet.
Oliver appeared in the doorway before they had made it halfway across the room. The front of his white t-shirt was stained with coffee and something that looked suspiciously like butter. His slate-grey eyes were wide and round and his hands were crimson, like he’d dipped them in red paint.
“Uh… Grayson?” he said calmly. “There’s someone at the door.”
Five
A Thousand Cuts
“Kayden!”
The sound of his name was familiar enough, although the voice took longer to place. For some reason he kept seeing dental floss and packing tape. It took a long time fo
r him to realize that it was Grayson, whose oral hygiene obsession was only equaled by his penchant for obsessively tidying other people’s belongings away into boxes, when he should be minding his own damn business.
“Asshole!” he hissed through his teeth. They felt broken, but his tongue was too swollen to run across them and check. In all honesty, it was a surprise that he even had a tongue. There was a vague, foggy memory in the back of his mind of it being cut off at some other point in time.
Kayden heard a sharp intake of breath from somewhere above him and sensed there were other people close by now, too. Something smelled like coffee and toast.
“Is that… is that Kayden?” someone asked. With that voice came a bright light and angry silver eyes- words from another lifetime: You have to help him. You have to help me. Farley. Of course it was Farley.
He felt warm hands on his bare back, sticking to his skin; they travelled down until they reached a burning area at the base of his spine that felt impossibly hot. A loud scream ripped through the air, rising higher and higher as someone climbed through the layers of some distant agony. Was it… no, it couldn’t be him.
“What the hell happened?” Grayson muttered, talking to himself. Surely there was no way he could have expected him to answer?
“Ahhh… why is there a naked, half-dead guy on the doorstep?” A different voice. Young. Female. “He looks like he might be dying. I think… oh crap, I think I can see his spine.”
There was the sound of someone running on wooden floorboards and a door slamming in another room. “Grayson, put me out,” Kayden moaned. He was beginning to feel things he hadn’t been able to feel a moment ago, and it really wasn’t good. “Put me out, you bastard.”
Eternal Hope (The Hope Series) Page 3