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Vote Then Read: Volume II

Page 186

by Lauren Blakely


  She was the most beautiful person I’d ever seen in my life. Her black hair had curled in the wind like silk ribbons and she had an entitled, callous sheen to her violet veiled brown eyes I’d only ever seen on the rich.

  She’d bent down until we were eye to eye and said, “I’ve been looking for a pet. Grandpa’s allergic to dogs and Mom hates cats…” She’d trailed off, biting her bottom lip, looking at me. Her front teeth were a little crooked, but it had only added to her allure.

  You’re going to be mine forever, and you’re going to thank me for it.

  “The Reject Princess… yeah.” I laughed, grabbing her elbow, pulling her closer. “I’m going to break your heart, and you’ll thank me for it. You’ll beg me to do it again.”

  Fear flickered in her eyes, and she searched my own.

  Whatever she was searching for, she wouldn’t find it.

  She lifted her chin high, and whatever vulnerability she’d shown me before vanished.

  “If I’m the Reject Princess, what does that make you? The pathetic dog asleep at her feet?”

  A humorless smirk chilled my lips; then I bit the air between us, stopping a feather’s distance away from her lips. She jumped back, heels losing purchase in the sandy grass, falling on her ass.

  My laugh barely reached my lips, let alone my eyes.

  Her eyes widened. “What happened to you?” Abigail scrambled back, getting tangled in her tulle. She spun around and tried to stand, tried to leave. I stepped on the hem, and she fell forward on a gasp.

  I yanked her up by the laces of her dress just before she hit the grass.

  “I dunno.” I gripped her satin laces, pulling her to me. “What happened to me?”

  I didn’t give her a chance to recover. With one hand on her laces, I trailed my other lightly along her collarbone.

  As far as I was concerned, she’d had five fucking years to be comfortable.

  Her heartbeat pounded against my touch, and hard, heavy breaths escaped her spoiled, pouty lips, but she held her face in a firm grimace. Still, her skin rose to meet me.

  “You’re not the boy I remember,” she said, a wrinkle marring her perfect porcelain brow. “You’re not the boy I saved.”

  “You’re not the girl I remember either, princess.”

  There was a time I thought Abigail was like me, but she’d always been a spoiled brat. Today proved that, shattered any lingering doubts.

  “I’m exactly the person you left me to be,” she said.

  “I’m going to take everything from you,” I said, voice soft. “Until you regret ever making me believe you were different.”

  Until you regret making me believe I could have something more.

  “I won’t play your games,” she said, a slight stammer to her words.

  I bit back my laugh. Abigail Crowne was a master at games, but this time I’d be the one to ruin her, break her to pieces, build a safety net with rotting promises.

  I’ll take everything from her. Her family. Her dreams.

  Her heart.

  Until there’s nothing left.

  “Princess…” I ghosted my touch at her collarbone up to her throat, forcing her neck back, flush against me, ears to my lips.

  “You’re not a player. You’re a pawn.”

  4

  ABIGAIL

  “Up and at ’em, Reject.” Theo threw open the windows. Yellow-gold morning light assaulted the shadowy corners of my room.

  He eyed the porcelain lamp by my bedside, now muted in the morning glow. “Still afraid of what’s under the bed?”

  He shot me a twisted, red-lipped grin, and heat crept up my cheeks, embarrassment drenched my blood. Only he knew why I slept with the light on. He knew and was using the memory as a shard to stab me.

  I quickly slammed the light off and deflected. “You’re not supposed to come into my room. I could have you fired.”

  “I wonder who they’d believe? The misbehaving heiress or the nothing-but-exemplary bodyguard tasked with watching her reject ass.”

  I glared at Theo, willing it to turn him into ashes, pushing past how his street clothes fit on his muscular yet lean frame. His hoodie, gray jeans, and tennis shoes were designed to blend in, but he stood out like a model on the runway.

  Theo Hound was undeniably gorgeous, and he was also dead set on ruining me.

  He was supposed to be my person, and instead he left me like everyone else. I wasn’t ever a very good Crowne. I never filled my room with extravagant purchases like Gemma, or played games with the desperate like Gray, but when I saw Theo, I took him.

  Last night I’d trusted him, and once again he’d betrayed me. I’ll never make that mistake again. From this point on, Theo Hound is enemy number one. I don’t care he’s been charged to guard my life. If I let my guard down, he’ll ruin me.

  I know it.

  If my glare affected him, it didn’t show. In fact, his blush lips curved. “Sleep well?”

  “I hate you.”

  “I don’t know how I’ll go on,” he said without any emotion, turning his attention to my ornately carved wood desk. There was only one thing atop it, my laptop—Mother liked to keep things neat. When he began opening drawers, I darted out of my bed so fast I forgot I was in only a small slip of a nightgown.

  I slammed the drawer shut.

  Our hands touched over the cool metal handle, Theo’s stare on mine, as my heart rose into my throat. I couldn’t fight him off. If he wanted to open that drawer, he could.

  Inside it I had a secret: college applications. A belief I could do something, be someone, better than arm candy, better than the last name Crowne and the girl I’d been raised to be. It was a fairy tale, a fantasy, but I liked to look at the applications and dream. The same way people who drove by our manor on tour buses did, I bet.

  “What do you think you’re doing? You can’t just tear apart my room.”

  “Actually, I can.” Theo took a step closer, pressing me against my desk, until my back bit into the wood. “I’m not like your other guards, Reject. You can’t scare me away. Your secrets are mine. Your mind is mine. Your body is mine. How else could I protect you?”

  All too aware of his body pressed into mine, I tried to control my face, not let on how unnerved I was. Protect me? More like destroy me.

  I gave myself away with a hard swallow, and Theo stepped back, a cruel smirk on his lips. His eyes landed on my open laptop, on the pictures wallpapering the back, and slowly Theo withdrew his hands, a grin spreading. He snatched the laptop, holding it high so I couldn’t get it. Maybe I should’ve worried more about what was on my laptop, but as long as he didn’t see my college applications, I didn’t care.

  The pictures were of the one day Gemma and I hadn’t been at each other’s throats. She’d just turned twenty-one, I was nineteen. She’d allowed me into her bedroom for once, and we’d gotten drunk and taken naughty photos.

  She had the matching set, the ones of me.

  That was how Crowne sisters bonded—blackmail.

  He arched a brow. “Naughty.”

  “Nothing you haven’t seen before,” I said under my breath.

  His stare dug into me like he wanted to press. Press what? The reason you obliterated my heart?

  Then he slammed the laptop shut and shoved it under his arm. “Get dressed.”

  “So you can make Mom hate me even more? No, thanks. I’ll stay here.” Today was one of my most favorite days, but if Theo wanted me dressed, instinct said I should do the opposite.

  A cruel smile. “Scared?”

  “No. I’m just not in the habit of listening to my bodyguards.”

  “Get dressed, or I’ll dress you.”

  A ripple of excitement raced up my spine, one I quickly disregarded as shock. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Want to test me, Reject?”

  Before I could respond, he grabbed my elbow, dragging me to my walk-in. He tore open the frosted French doors, throwing me inside like I was a rag doll.
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  “Get. Dressed.”

  “Get. Out,” I responded in the same tone.

  His eyes raked over me, and I folded my arms, as if I could shield myself from the piercing stare.

  He laughed. “Nothing half the world hasn’t seen already.”

  He spoke to me like I had to him just moments before, but a stab of hurt sliced through me.

  Everyone had seen me, because I’d been betrayed the same way Theo had betrayed me. Getting out of a car to paparazzi who’d been tipped off, after being persuaded to go commando by people I thought were friends. Kissing an actor on a yacht who thought it would be hilarious to kiss the famous train wreck and let the world see.

  As if he knew I was hurting, he said, “I’m disappointed. I thought it would take more than one night to break you.”

  The only thing not completely stone on his hard features was the slight mocking lilt to his soft-as-sin lips.

  Without another thought, I tore off my satin nightie and threw it at his head. The fuck you was apparent.

  For a split second, shock registered over his features. Then heat blazed, peppering goose bumps along my skin like tight-fitting lace.

  I was utterly naked in front of Theo for the first time in my life, and all he did was stare. We’d shared dirty promises, but we’d never fulfilled them. A cool ocean breeze whispered across my nipples, and I fought the urge to cover myself.

  I wouldn’t lose.

  All at once he slammed the French doors shut so hard they rattled.

  I stayed there in the center of my walk-in closet, the plush carpet cushioning my feet as I fisted my hands.

  I couldn’t decide if I’d won or lost.

  I’d had years to train for this. Every guard assigned to me either quit or relocated. Theo Hound wouldn’t know what hit him. He wanted to play?

  Game. On.

  The town of Crowne Point is known for three things: my beautiful sister, my playboy brother, and the time I pulled the First Daughter’s extensions out at our annual Fourth of July barbecue. In my defense, she “mistook” me for the help.

  The help doesn’t wear bespoke Zac Posen.

  Bitch.

  We’re a small eastern beach town nestled at the southernmost tip of New York, home to some of the wealthiest people in America. My grandfather, of course, and the people he’d made rich. Years ago, when my great-great-grand daddy made his money in railroads, we’d been one of the first and most important commercial lines, and Crowne Point used to be an industrial hub. Now that stop is a tourist attraction, and my family is involved in everything from fertilizer to Big Pharma. Chances are there’s something in every home that's made us money.

  We make the Hamptons look like a trailer park. It’s almost hard to believe we came close to losing everything. My home, Crowne Hall, was as much a landmark as the swans inhabiting our beaches. It’s visible from anyplace in Crowne Point, and from Main Street, you can see the jutting black towers past the olde-style shops.

  Most importantly, my family owns this town. People outside of Crowne can’t really understand what it’s like to live here. A journalist did a piece on Crowne Point once and called us an “entrenched monarchy hidden inside America’s East Coast,” like it was a bad thing.

  There’s a hierarchy.

  A way to things.

  You’re either royal, or you’re not.

  We have a native swan population people travel from all over the world to see. In the summer their populations surge for a few months. In a few hours, this place would be crawling with tourists and townies alike, flocking to see the hundreds of swans that consume our beaches the week before the Fourth.

  “Today is seriously still important to you?” Theo asked, eyeing me.

  “No,” I responded too quickly, giving myself away. Historically, the Swan Swell had always been one of the only times my grandpa came home, and he’d come hold the swans with me.

  It was a tradition I’d had with my father, and when he died Grandpa stepped in. It meant the world to me.

  Theo laughed, obviously picking up on my lie.

  I glared.

  “Those are so pretty!”

  I blinked out of my glare, finding a pretty young woman eyeing my earrings.

  “Did you buy them here?”

  She gestured down Main Street where various pop-up shops and artisan craft stalls had appeared overnight. During the Swell, Main Street closed down to make way for them.

  I touched my found-glass earrings with a smile.

  “No, afraid not.”

  “Do you mind telling me where? I would love to have a pair.”

  Love to have a pair.

  I glowed at her words. I have a secret, one I’m certain Theo has forgotten about, and one I don’t want him to remember. He’d nearly discovered it this morning in my desk. I make jewelry, and someday dream to study the art in college. I only ever use found items, because there’s magic in revealing the beauty of what people discarded.

  I smiled at the woman. “I’m sorry. I can’t remember.”

  She frowned but accepted my lie.

  I watched her walk away, disappearing into the crowd forming in Main Street. There was a warmth in my stomach that wouldn’t easily dissipate. When she complimented me, it was so much more poignant than the millions I’d been showered with simply for being a Crowne. Those compliments were like everything in our world, done for vapid, unyielding custom.

  But that woman complimented me.

  When I finally looked back, Theo was watching me with too much interest.

  “You have a nickname too, you know,” I said casually, fingering seashells on a pop-up shop’s stand. It was my secret dream to have my own shop and one day have my jewelry for sale for women like her.

  My secret, unobtainable dream.

  Theo spared me a look. “Trying to get in my head?”

  String lights drooped overhead that would glow in the evening, and we would soon be shoulder to shoulder.

  You can always tell the difference between a tourist and a townie. Townies know us. They glance at us. Tourists stare.

  “Just wondering if you remembered, if you knew you were Crowne Point’s very own lost dog. What’s it like not knowing who your parents are?”

  “What’s it like knowing yours, and knowing they don’t love you?” he responded easily, sounding bored.

  I glared. “My dad loved me.”

  “Mmm… past tense.”

  I ground my teeth.

  Focus.

  “I need to use the bathroom.”

  Theo narrowed his eyes but said nothing.

  When we got to the bathroom, Theo tried to push his way inside first. I jumped in front of him, blocking the doorway. His hair was wilder in the salty humidity, sticking up yet still soft looking, falling over his piercing eyes.

  “You have to be kidding.”

  “If only,” he deadpanned. “I go everywhere you go, Reject.”

  “I’ll tell everyone you’re a pervert,” I threatened. A leonine smile spread his plush lips, and he leaned forward, forcing me to arch and strain my back to get away.

  “Then I’ll have to make sure what you threaten comes true.”

  My lips parted, momentarily stunned by his response. So many of my guards had been concerned with reputation. All it took was one artfully placed threat and they kowtowed.

  “Stay outside and I won’t lock the door,” I said it with a glare, but I knew I was negotiating with him, and I itched to slam the door.

  A spark glittered in his pale eyes, and I swore he knew what I was planning, but then he shrugged and gave me his back.

  I slammed the door and focused on the window at the back.

  There’s an underground in Crowne Point. A place where elite and townies collide in mutual drug-fueled non-judgment. It takes place about a mile east, in the old amusement park on the now-abandoned pier, once called Crowne Park, now known colloquially as Horsemen’s Wharf. It was named after the four boys who oversee i
t, who run the meanest gang in town. I never really interacted with them, and that was a good thing.

  The Horsemen take pride in their drugs, to the point even people like Grayson begrudgingly acknowledge they have good, clean shit. The Wharf is also one of the quickest places to score.

  I kicked over the trashcan, hoisting myself up, shimmying my legs through the window, trying not to think about Theo. There’d been a time when he’d lifted me up through windows, and we’d jumped down together.

  I released my grip, hopping to the ground.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Shit!” I jumped at Theo’s voice, falling back against the brick wall, heart racing. Did he really remember our move?

  As if he could read my mind, he said, “You haven’t changed.”

  His clear green eyes roamed my body. My satin black tank scorched beneath them, and I jumped back to this morning, when I’d been in nothing but my silky pajamas. I hardened my glare, refusing to fold my arms.

  With a wicked grin, eyes lingering on my chest, he added, “Strike that, you’ve changed some.”

  I fought the urge to kick sand at him.

  “Wanna tell me where you were going, or should we do it the fun way?”

  I stayed silent.

  He rubbed his bottom lip with his thumb, watching me. “There isn’t much around here.” He focused on me. Studying me. Digging into me. Once again it was like he was reading my mind.

  As if he was commanding me to do it, my eyes traveled left, where, in the distance, barely visible against the darkening sky, was the decrepit Ferris wheel that marked Horsemen’s Wharf.

  “The Wharf? Really?” He sounded disappointed in me.

  He pushed me against the brick wall. “What was your plan, Reject? Go to the wharf, get some drugs, put them on me, and call Grandpa Crowne?”

  Yes.

  Dammit.

  It had worked with so many of my other guards.

  Theo kept pushing into me, knee grinding up against me in ways I liked too much.

  “Get off me.” I tried to push him off and he gripped my wrists.

  A cruel smile spread those devilish, heart-shaped lips. “Are you still a virgin?”

 

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