Bittersweet Legacy (The Patricians Book 1)

by R. G. Angel

  When we walked in, I didn't even get a chance to ogle at the surroundings when a woman with a headset and a nametag reading ‘Susan, Party Supervisor’ jumped in front of us.

  I rolled my eyes; this was beyond ridiculous.

  “Welcome to Archibald’s big Eighteenth,” she beamed. “My name is Susan,” she said, pointing at her name tag, I guess if you were slow and all. “I’m here to assist with everything you need.”

  “Yeah, okay Sue it’s nice. Where can we find the guest of honor?” Taylor demanded, looking around with contempt – she was scarily good at this game.

  I could see the woman wanted to correct her for misusing her name but she stopped. “The food’s in the reception room one,” she pointed to the left, “you’re also able to leave any presents there” she added, looking pointedly at our empty hands.

  “I’m Taylor Oppenheimer – My presence is the present.”

  I’d seen my brother glance at her a few times when he didn’t think we were looking – I knew she was joking but I wasn’t sure this statement was completely wrong.

  “And I’m his sister, Esmeralda Forbes.” I mimicked Tay’s haughty tone.

  “Ah, yes marvellous! The main party is in the ballroom. Do you need assistance finding it?”

  Taylor shook her head. “No thank you – I know the place.”

  The ballroom was crowded with dancing bodies and tables on the side. I recognized most faces from school. “I see… It’s basically a normal high school party except way more pretentious.

  “I’ve never been to a real high school party,” she admitted, scanning the room for Archie, I presumed.

  A few guys walked past me, eyeing me with envy before realizing who I was and running away.

  I frowned. I didn’t really want their attention but I was annoyed at the visceral reaction I was getting. What had Archie said? Or what had Caleb? I couldn’t help the little pleasant treacherous feeling at the idea of Caleb’s possessiveness.

  I scanned the room for him.

  “Ah found one King douche!” Taylor pointed to Antoine who was sipping a flute of champagne on the other side of the room. “The others can’t be far.”

  Antoine locked eyes with us and his generic smile turned predatory as he dismissed his court and hurried toward us. He was dressed in blue jeans, a white shirt and a black velvet blazer, with a pocket square the color of his shirt.

  “Esmeralda!” he exclaimed, reaching for my hand and kissing my knuckles. “Tu es si belle tu pourrais faire damner un saint!”

  Taylor rolled her eyes and made a gagging sound. “Could you be cheesier? Does it even work?”

  “More often than you think,” he winked at her with a cheeky grin. “But you can’t deny that she looks stunning.”

  “No, I can’t.”

  “Not that you’re not beautiful too, my little T-”

  She waved her hand to cut him off.

  “Couldn’t care less. Where are douche one and douche two?”

  “Who’s one and two?”

  “Depends on my mood, they’re pretty much interchangeable.”

  A strange look passed across his face. Shame? “Umm, I’m not sure I should tell you.”

  She laughed but it lacked humor. “But you will anyway.”

  “They’re in the library but I wouldn’t go there if I were you.”

  Taylor smiled at him. “We both know we’re going.”

  “Oh yeah.” He pointed to the corner where his court was waiting. “I’ll be right there.”

  We set off down the corridor toward the library. “Should we knock?” I asked Tay as we neared our destination.

  “What the hell for?”

  “I don’t know, maybe they’re busy.”

  She threw me a side look. “And we care because…?” she trailed off.

  I sighed, “No, you’re right we shouldn’t.”

  She opened the door and as soon as I took in the scene in the room I regretted not knocking, I regretted coming, I regretted waking up.

  I gasped at the vision in front of me. Caleb was sitting on the sofa, his pants unzipped, his head tilted back, he was holding a tumbler of amber liquid in his right hand and his left fisted in the hair of a brunette girl kneeling between his legs. I didn’t need to get the full picture to know exactly what was happening. His grunts of pleasure and the sucking sounds made my stomach drop.

  The feeling of betrayal was just as intense as it was unexpected. I didn’t want to be with Caleb, the only thing I wanted to do was run away, and yet the pain was so real I couldn't contain my gasp.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” Archie slurred, somehow angrily.

  I finally looked away from the horrific scene and met my brother's eyes. He was leaning against the wall, his shirt opened while a blond girl was running her hands over his stomach. His eyes had a hazy hue I recognized only too well based on experiences. He was obviously quite intoxicated.

  “That’s messed up,” Taylor sneered from beside me.

  I turned toward her, she was scowling, her arms crossed on her chest but there was also pain there – it was easy to recognise this was something she was also feeling.

  Archie pushed the girl quite roughly, keeping his eyes on Taylor. “What does it matter to you, Oppenheimer?”

  She shook her head. “It doesn’t, you two depraved bastards can do what the fuck you want together. Come on, E, let’s go have fun.”

  I turned toward Caleb and was grateful that he was decent again. The girl was sitting on the floor glaring at me. His eyes were on me as he drank his liquor without a word, the scrutiny made me shiver.

  “You know what yeah, let’s go party. I might find a guy to have fun with.” I exited the room briskly before Taylor even had a chance to reply. I couldn’t look at that girl’s face any longer.

  I was not halfway down the hall when an arm grabbed me and turned around forcefully.

  I met Caleb’s eyes – they were even icier with rage.

  “Are you mad I interrupted your little party?” I spat, masking my hurt with anger.

  “Where do you think you’re going dressed like that, Esmeralda? I’m not keen on sharing what's mine.”

  “Yours?” I chuckled. “Did you remember we’re engaged when she had your dick down her throat?”

  He hissed as Taylor gasped – yep, the cat was out of the bag now.

  “I’m marrying you Esmeralda, but I’m not committing to you,” he replied coldly, squeezing my arm.

  “So, you’re saying that faithfulness is not expected? That I will see you again with a girl sucking your dick?”

  He shrugged, letting go of my arm and burying his hands in his pocket in a désinvolte gesture. “It’s not impossible unless you learn to knock.”

  The fury and betrayal I felt in that moment was almost blinding. “So, I can too? I can go out and-”

  He chuckled. “No, I’m sorry, let me reword that. Faithfulness is not expected from me but is mandatory from you”

  “How is that fair?”

  “It’s not – it’s just how it is.”

  I snorted.

  He grabbed my jaw between his fingers. “You are to have my children; we can’t have children born with olive skin and dark eyes, can we? We can’t have a Ben Deluca Jr, can we?”

  “Is that why you’re acting like this? You’re jealous?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Please! There’s nothing to be jealous of. He’s nothing.”

  “Nothing? Yeah, right! He is muscular, sporty, honourable and… wait, I never told you his last name.”

  His smile turned even colder, meaner. “I know a lot of things, Esmeralda.”

  “If you keep on going, I’m not marrying you.”

  “The simple fact you think you have a choice is quite endearing,” he replied with so much condescension I wanted to smack his head against the wall.

  “I will not commit to that, Caleb, I have nothing to lose,” I bluffed. “And a diseased dick’s not something I can s
ettle for, sorry.” I pointed at the party. “Now is the time to get even, go finish your party with slut Barbie.”

  “If you think for one fucking second I’ll let you walk away from here dressed like that you’re in for –”

  I swirled around, giving him my back, a small gesture of rebellion.

  “Don’t walk away when I'm talking to you!” he exploded, and I couldn’t help but smile a little as I figured once more what could get on his nerves.

  He grabbed me more forcefully this time, hard enough to be bruising. His lips were in a thin line, his nostrils flaring with his barely contained fury. Maybe I pushed him too far.

  “Listen to me Esmeralda Forbes,” he raged threateningly. “You stopped being your own person when you accepted my proposal.”

  “I don’t see a ring on my finger,” I showed him my bare hands.

  “This doesn’t matter, I own you.”

  “You own me?” I snorted.

  “Yes, and I will show you right this second what it means,” he pulled me toward him but Archie struggled out of Taylor’s hold and swayed toward me.

  “Okay, we’re done here.” he huffed, standing between Caleb and me.

  I couldn’t help but grimace at the strong whiff of alcohol coming from his breath, he was much drunker than he looked.

  Caleb arched an eyebrow in surprise, I doubted he was used to my brother denying him anything. I filed this information in my brain for later.

  Archie turned toward me. “I told you to stay home,” he spat.

  Ah finally, the anger I was used to. “It’s my birthday too”.

  “You were not welcome,” he added. He fumbled in his pocket and got his keys out. “Let’s go.” He ordered turning around to leave the house.

  “Archie, no” I reached for his arm. “You’re in no condition to drive, let me do it.”

  He looked down at my hand on his arm and removed his briskly. “No,” he snorted. “I’m fucking driving.”

  I tried to reach for him again but despite his drunkenness he was faster and stronger.

  Taylor reached for my hand. “Arguing with him when he is in this state’s a waste of time.”

  I shook my head, “No, I won't let him leave like that.” I turned to Caleb pointed at the door. “Help him!”

  Caleb rolled his eyes, waving his phone at me. “I called the guard - the gates are closed; he can’t go anywhere.”

  I sighed with relief as a huge noise made me rush outside, somehow happy that the loud music had prevented anybody witnessing the drama we were going through.

  Archie had reversed the car into the fountain. He opened the door and leaned out, vomiting.

  Taylor gagged beside me. “I can’t” she groaned waving her hand with another gag. “I’m an empathetic vomiter. I’m out,” she added, walking back into the house.

  Archie crawled out of the car and fell on his back laughing. “Oops, I broke his favorite toy.” He laughed again.

  Caleb took a step toward him, but I stopped him.

  “Go back to the party Caleb, your toy’s waiting for you.”

  I was just so tired, so broken, I could feel my mask slipping and I couldn’t do that now.

  “I’ll handle it, he is my brother - my blood.”

  “He hates you.” Caleb scoffed.

  I shrugged, kicking off my shoes. “You hate me too, I’m okay with that.” I took a couple of steps down. “I'm dealing with him, just tell the guard to let us out. Your friend’s waiting.”

  “You don’t mind?” He asked, crossing his arms on his chest. “You know what I’ll do with her, right?”

  I shrugged, somehow happy to have the distraction of my brother’s drunkenness to smother the wave of jealousy I felt seeing the girl on her knees in front of him, If I hadn’t interrupted, what they would be doing now? “Do what you please, Caleb, this is your party and we’re not married.”

  I turned, concentrating on my crawling mess of a brother. I leaned down. “Come on, you’ve got to help me help you.”

  “Where’s Oppie?” he slurred.

  “She’s gone.” I grabbed his arm and wrapped him around me. I was trying to ignore the burning eyes I could feel on me.

  “She’s pretty.”

  I rolled my eyes. “If it took you this long to notice, you’re even stupider than I thought.”

  “She hates me so much.” He grabbed me to help himself up, making me stagger.

  “No, I don’t think she does. I winced as I walked him to the car, the added weight causing the pebbles to torture my feet, making the yard I had to walk seem like miles.

  I sat him on the passenger seat and removed some hair from his forehead as he rested his head on the headrest, his eyes closed.

  “I shouldn’t have claimed her, I,” he just shook his head, not opening his eyes.

  “I’ll get you home.” I whispered turning around and was surprised to see Caleb still standing there, his hands in his pockets.

  I walked toward him to retrieve my shoes. “Why are you still here?”

  He didn’t answer, but simply stood there, his hands still firmly in his pockets.

  I sighed, throwing my hands up in surrender, my broken brother needed me more than I needed to win that petty fight.

  “Just let Taylor know I’m taking Archie home, okay?” I turned around without adding another word.

  “Dad’s gonna kill you for driving his car – he loves it more than me,” Archie mumbled as I sat on the pristine cream leather seat.

  “Yeah well what choice do I have, huh?”

  But the only reply I got was the light snoring from beside me.

  “I like you better when you’re sleeping,” I admitted as we exited the property. I couldn't help but look in the mirror as we drove off and was surprised to find Caleb still standing there.

  “Caleb,” I shook my head as the images of him with that girl swam back into my mind. I just wanted to forget tonight ever happened and start over.

  I parked the car close to our stairs and helped Archie out. He was still quite out of it, but the 15-minute snooze did add a little to his strength and he was easier to manoeuvre up the stairs.

  “No, it’s okay,” I motioned the butler off. “I’ll take care of him; I know how to deal with him.”

  “Yep,” Archie leaned against me with a humorless laugh. “She was raised by a drunk, she knows all the tricks, don’t you, trailer trash?”

  I winced at the bitterness of his tone. My brother was a mean drunk, that much was clear, but there was more than that, his anger was full of despair and the pain he was trying so hard to hide was, for me, as clear as day.

  I wasn’t here forever; I couldn’t stay here, that much was sure, but maybe with a bit of luck and enough time I could try to find out what was wrong with him and mend some of it.

  I knew I was being stupid but he was my brother, my twin! I didn’t want him completely out of my life, I wanted the chance of a ‘maybe one day’.

  He leaned more heavily on me, making me stumble, I tightened my hold around his waist, I knew it was stupid – it would have been much easier to ask the butler to help him to his room, I could take over from there. But I didn’t want to – I stupidly wanted to show him that he could lean on me.

  I sighed with relief as we reached his room and I sat him on the toilet seat. He leaned against it; his eyes half-closed. “This doesn’t change anything,” he slurred. “I won’t love you.”

  I rolled my eyes, wetting a washcloth with some cold water to run it on his face. He hissed at the coldness and it was oddly satisfying to cause him some discomfort after all the pain he was causing me.

  “I need to clean your drunken face,” I sighed. “And we need to get you out of this shirt.” I grimaced at the vomit staining it. It didn’t really matter how many times I dealt with this in the past, I didn’t think it was something you really got used to.

  He tried to unbutton it but failed miserably. I rolled my eyes again at the all-too-familiar scene. Yes,
a drunken fool was always a drunken fool, no matter who he was.

  “Let me do that,” I offered, gentler than I wanted to. I’d learned in the past that nobody got that drunk just for fun, it had been so clear with my dad… well uncle… that it was the guilt and pain of the lies that pushed him toward the bottle. I couldn’t help but wonder what Archie’s driving force was.

  “I don’t need you,” he mumbled, but didn’t try to stop me as I unbuttoned his shirt. A tattoo was scrawled in a beautiful handwriting across his rib cage ‘Every body drags its shadow, and every mind its doubt.’

  I ran my finger on the tattoo with a little smile. At least I was not the only one who was a fan of Victor Hugo. My dad always told me mom was a huge Hugo fan. Did she read his stories to Archie?

  “Where are your pajamas?” I asked, helping him up.

  He shook his head.

  I sighed; I didn’t have time for all this. “Okay Captain Drunktard, let’s get you to bed.”

  Once I helped him into the bed and covered him up, I ran my hand through his hair. “I’ll get you a bottle of water and some meds. There is a bucket on the floor if you need to vomit.”

  He looked at me with blurry eyes. “You’re angel, Esmerima.”

  I chuckled at the weird name. “Hardly.”

  He nodded, running a shaky hand on his face. “This’s why she chose you. This’s why she saved you and left me.”

  I frowned at his rambling. “Who? Mom? She died in a car accident going to a gala, Archie, she didn’t pick me.”

  He had a humorless laugh. “She wasn’t going to a gala.” He shook his head, closing his eyes as the drunken stupor was starting to take him under. “He was ashamed, he lied. She was leaving him, leaving me.” He sighed. “She knew I was rotten, full of shadows. She picked you, the princess… she didn’t love me enough to save me,” he slurred.

  I was stunned in shock, first at the potential revelation behind my mother’s death. I didn’t put it past my father to have lied to me about it. That man had an ego the size of a house and I didn’t need to know him well to figure that he was the type of person to bend the truth to meet his needs.

  I looked at my brother’s sleeping form and I grieved for him in a whole different way – starting to see now why he was that broken, distant boy. Some wounds never healed, and I highly suspected that abandonment was one of them. In his head he was an abandoned child, something he was not going to forget, something I hoped I could fix with my mother’s journal. She wouldn’t have just walked away from one who she called her ‘beautiful boy’.