Vote Then Read: Volume II

by Lauren Blakely

  She flitted through the photos and letters. I was missing a key bit of information. I still wasn’t grasping it. It was there, close, a needle digging the tip of my tongue.

  She lifted her head. “What are you hoping to accomplish, Abigail? All I see here are love letters from a future fiancé. Ned Harlington is a good…”

  When she said his name, all the rest of her words faded to darkness. I stared at the box in my mom’s hands. Harlington, the very same Harlington I’d heard spoken over and over since the acquisition began. The dots had been there, but I’d never quite connected them.

  “Ned… is Edward Harlington?”

  “The son of the man your grandfather has been trying to back into a deal for more than a year, your fiancé.”

  Everything clicked into place. The roses in Crowne Hall. The Fourth party where I supposedly met my fiancé.

  I could barely breathe. “Why is everyone calling him Edward?”

  My mother blinked slowly. “Why do people call you Abby, Abigail?” Silence followed as my heart raced and nausea consumed me.

  I was going to marry someone who’d drugged me, stalked me, threatened me. What would happen when there was no distance between us, no walls to keep me safe?

  “We can’t afford a classic Abigail scene,” my mom said. “Nothing seems to be working with you. The only reason I submitted to having that boy back was to keep you on a leash. I think it’s time to send him away—”

  “No, no. I’ll be good.” Send Theo away—again? “I’ll be better.”

  Her sharp eyes narrowed, catching. Had I let on I cared too much? I knew if I backtracked, it would solidify what she suspected.

  “I…” I swallowed. “I didn’t know. I didn’t realize who it was.”

  I should’ve known. I should’ve connected the dots. I hoped in vain we could end it here, and Mom would let me pretend this never happened.

  But he would be in Switzerland?

  My throat closed at the thought.

  She exhaled through her nostrils. “Edward Harlington is from a good family, he could marry any girl he wants, and he chose you. He chose us. I can’t even find it in me to be shocked you’re trying to ruin this—”

  “I…” I cut her off, voice scratchy. “I made a mistake.”

  I stared at the floor, willing a hole to open up and suck me in.

  She eyed me with a sigh. “Come here.” I stood up, finding a seat next to her on the antique couch. “You know I don’t like being harsh with you.” She hugged me. She caressed my hair, holding me like she had when I was a little girl.

  “I know,” I mumbled into her shoulder.

  She sighed again, her disappointment seeping like water into my bones, deeper still, until I didn’t know where it had gone and could only feel it. Weathering and cold. Her fingers stroked through my hair, separating it like water in the way only she could.

  Mom rarely hugged me, and anytime she did, it was usually after she’d emotionally obliterated me. How fucked up was it to live for these moments?

  We sat in disharmonious silence. I didn’t count the minutes, and I tried to enjoy the rare mother-daughter time. Tried not to think about what led to it.

  “I almost eloped, you know,” she said absently.

  I don’t think I could have spoken if someone put a gun to my head. I stared at my mother, wondering if I’d heard her correctly.

  “I guess you could say he was my Theo. He worked for my father in the mailroom, because back then there was such a thing as a mailroom,” she added, raising a brow at me. “He brought me cheap chocolates and we listened to music that would make my father’s toes curl.”

  A small smile curved her lips, a real smile, soft and so un-Tansy-like. I tried to imagine my mom as anyone other than the woman who sent back perfectly fine cherries. Someone who ate cheap chocolate and listened to popular music.

  “What happened to him?”

  It was foolish of me to hope for a happy ending. She’d married my father; obviously she hadn’t ended up with her Theo.

  Still, my heart stood on tiptoes.

  “He died.”

  Mom spoke as if we were discussing the weather, always composed, but I was struggling to breathe. Both her husband and her first—maybe only—love had died?

  “Not at first,” she continued. “But watching me marry your father killed him slowly until he wrapped his car around a tree.”

  She turned to me. “I made a mistake, Abigail. I made him think we could be together, and I let him fall in love with me.”

  My eyes traveled to the door, as if I could see Theo on the other side. I’d always been selfish when it came to him. Selfish to take him, selfish to keep him, selfish to want him to stay.

  “Did you ever think about giving it all up for him?” I asked quietly.

  “You won’t marry Theo, Abigail. You can’t be a princess and marry a pauper.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I just sat in the dimly lit room, picking at my jeans. The single lamp didn’t seem like enough light for the dark words.

  “I know you think I’m a villain.”

  “No, I—” I attempted, but she cut me off.

  “I don’t want you to be like me, Abigail. Don’t make the same mistakes. Men like Edward are dangerous only if you let them be. He isn’t like your grandfather; he isn’t cunning.” Something flickered in her eyes, something like fear, but it was gone before I could be sure.

  I couldn’t help my next words. “He threatened me. He stalked me. He drugged me.”

  “He’s a coward. Cowards are easy to control.”

  She smiled at me.

  This was the first sincere conversation I’d ever had with my mother. I couldn’t help but wonder if anyone else knew this side of her. As uncomfortable as the subject matter was, I couldn’t help wondering if we were finally getting closer.

  Then she sighed. “Maybe we should send you home. It might be easier for… everyone.”

  All my hopes shattered.

  Send me home? So that entire conversation meant nothing? We all hated this forced family time, but it was a Crowne tradition. They were cutting me out of the family picture, and I could feel the scissors scraping along my soul with each cut.

  “I can handle it,” I said. “I’ll… I’ll marry him.”

  A long, palpable silence followed my words. When my mother finally spoke, it was about a completely different subject.

  “Have you been to see Dr. Brenner recently?” she asked lightly, referring to our on-call plastic surgeon.

  “No. Why?”

  Her eyes lingered on my bare midriff, then returned to mine with a tight smile. “Maybe make an appointment when we get back.”

  I rubbed my eyes as I left my mother’s wing. I wouldn’t cry, but they still stung. I could handle Ned. I’d been handling him. What I couldn’t handle? Being yet another disappointment to my mother and losing Theo in the process.

  21

  ABIGAIL

  Uneasy is the girl who wears the name Crowne.

  My grandma told me that on my seventh birthday. Everyone said she was losing her mind and not to pay attention to her words.

  I’m not so sure.

  Since Spain, things with Theo have been off. On the surface, things are okay, but it feels wrong, a strong current beneath still waters. Our time in Italy flew by, and now we’re heading to Switzerland.

  I haven’t told him the truth about my fiancé.

  He hasn’t apologized for the key chain. Not really.

  I want to tell Theo everything, but we’re hours away from Switzerland.

  Switzerland.

  Where I might see Ned and have no choice but to act like everything is fine, like he hasn’t been tormenting me.

  Theo would rip Ned apart, and if Theo did that, Mom would rip Theo apart.

  I glanced at Theo, sitting stoically beside me on the plane.

  It feels like fate in a way. I haven’t seen my grandpa since the Swan Swell, since the day Theo
ripped us apart. It prods something inside me, opens up the parts of me I’ve been pretending didn’t exist. The odd distance between Theo and me, the lies I’m telling, the secrets I’m worried he might be keeping.

  We’re ignoring a chasm between us, and my grandfather might be the thing to shove us inside.

  “Something’s bothering you, Abigail,” Theo said the moment we landed. Cool summer air whipped at our skin, the jet still powering down. “Something more than what I did.”

  “I’m nervous to see my grandpa,” I lied. Guilt ripped apart his face, and he went quiet. Shame settled in my stomach.

  A black town car pulled up, one of four, and I was seated alone with Theo in one as my mother and siblings took their own.

  It wasn’t a short drive to the house, but it’s worth it. Switzerland was my favorite as a child. It’s our very own fairy-tale castle, with steepled roofs, turrets, and crenellations. Built into the top of the mountain and rising high into the blue sky, we took a winding road into verdant snow-capped mountains. A shimmering clear lake was below us, and evergreen spruce surrounded us on all sides.

  Inside the castle, I looked around, as if Ned was going to pop up any minute, but it was just us and the servant staff.

  “He’ll be here tomorrow. Remember what you promised.” My mother smiled and walked away, up the winding staircase toward her room. Servants followed, carrying her luggage.

  I was jumpy in my skin. Itchy. Emotions were eating me alive. I couldn’t think about them.

  So I did what I did best. I reacted.

  Gemma was leaning against the wall, on her phone.

  No more classic Abigail scenes.

  My mom’s words were fresh in my mind. I opened and closed my fist.

  “Have you seen Dr. Brenner recently?” I asked lightly, approaching Gemma.

  She looked up from her phone. “No, why?”

  “No reason…” I lingered on her midriff, long enough for a wrinkle to appear between her brows, then kept walking. I saw her tug down her shirt out of my periphery.

  Why was it when I should be on my best behavior, I was always on my worst?

  I hadn’t even crossed the foyer when I caught Theo’s gaze. He watched me too closely, seeing right through me. I walked past him like it wasn’t a big deal he was there, or that he’d seen what I’d done.

  He fell in step behind me.

  Our footfalls echoed in the vaulted castle ceilings, haunting. While the castle was centuries old, inside had been entirely updated. Switzerland was the light to Crowne Halle’s dark. Just as opulent but with pale blue, silver, and white decor.

  My wing was no different, all silver and blue, with regal furnishings as old as the castle. The minute we got back to my room, I busied myself. I grabbed my suitcase, throwing it on my bed, wrinkling the satin. I had to unpack, because Gray still kept Story. So I focused on that.

  “Are you ready to tell me what’s going on?” Theo’s low, steady voice was at my back.

  “You’re not making much sense, Theo.”

  Theo always had a hard time with how my peers got away with everything. I knew deep down that when it came to me, he wouldn’t let it go. Which meant Mom would never give me another chance, and somehow, worse, Theo would leave my side.

  I was already out of my mind trying to figure out how to keep them away from one another.

  Theo gripped my chin, drawing my eyes away from my haphazard unpacking. “Abs.”

  Warning flared bright in my brain. Theo could see into me. He could rip out pieces of me I didn’t give him permission to take. He was clawing into my soul at that very moment.

  I dropped to my knees, reaching for a distraction as much as I was reaching for his buttons. He grasped my wrists, holding me off.

  “Fuck off, Abigail. Do you think I’m that simple?”

  I bit my lip, looking away.

  Still holding my wrists, he bent until we were eye to eye. “Who is he? Who has you this scared?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He dropped my wrists with so much force I turned in the other direction.

  “Classic Abigail. At any sign of pain or hurt you build your walls. Can’t let anyone see those deep, dark insides, after all.”

  I didn’t speak, focusing on his black sneakers.

  “You spend so much time picking out the most precious items. You turn lost and forgotten things into treasure. Would you ever put them on some weak, breaking metal band?”

  “Of course not,” I said.

  “So why are you doing that with your soul, your heart?” He touched his pastel bracelet on my wrist. “Your bracelet will break if you keep building it with brittle wire.”

  I knew he was talking about more than his bracelet, more than my jewelry. My heart ached.

  “Why are you hurting, Abigail?” he asked softly.

  “Don’t make me lie to you!” My throat was clogged with tears. I never cried. Theo was the only one who did this to me.

  He watched me in silence for so long my knees started to ache. The muscle in his jaw twerked with how tight he clenched. The hollows of his cheeks even deeper, gaunter. His eyes were a campfire, blazing and fierce, yet soft.

  “I can’t let this go,” he finally said.

  “So don’t,” I said. “Just for now, for tonight.”

  When I reached for him again, he didn’t push me away.

  “What are you staring at?” I asked, peering at Theo from over a book. We were alone in the library, and every few minutes I’d look up from my book to see him staring.

  “You.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “You get lost in a book the same way you get lost in my cock, you know that? It’s fucking distracting.”

  I looked down, cheeks flaming.

  “Shit, Abigail,” he said. “You know what that look does to me.”

  Still looking down, I set my book on the studded suede arm of my chair, then got to my knees, walking to him. His eyes transmuted, burning coals. As I got closer, he spread his legs enough to allow me between his knees.

  “Sweet girl…” Theo threaded his fingers into my hair, caressing from my scalp to the middle of my back. His eyes creased, and I knew he was about to rip open the wound between us.

  “Don’t,” I pleaded. “Just… not right now.”

  At least Theo and I seemed to have perfected this part. Communication, our emotions, our truths, were all tangled in the barbed wires of our past.

  But this? This was easy for us.

  I placed my head on his thigh, and he slowed his caress.

  “Your grandfather wishes to see you.” I jumped up at the voice, hitting Theo’s chin with my head. He cursed and I rubbed my scalp, turning to find my grandfather’s guard in the arched doorway.

  How much had he seen?

  “M-My grandfather?”

  I hadn’t met with my grandfather one-on-one since the night Theo had ruined my relationship with him.

  I stood, leaving my book discarded on the soft velvet wingback, and followed the guard.

  When we reached my grandfather’s office, the guard placed a hand on Theo’s chest, not allowing him to follow me through the doors.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “Nothing bad is going to happen to me in my grandpa’s office.”

  Theo’s frown deepened, his jaw clenched. Even I didn’t quite believe my words, but I followed my grandfather’s guard through the doors.

  Grandfather’s guard deposited me like a package, then shut the door, leaving us alone.

  “Edward Harlington is joining us soon,” Grandpa said, facing an expansive window. “I know you’re aware of his… predilections.”

  Predilections, that was a nice way of phrasing it.

  “You knew?”

  Grandpa turned to his desk, unlocking a drawer. He pulled out photos, placing them on the desk. At first I was expecting them to be the ones from my box, assuming my mother had shared them, but they were of me and Theo, all from the last month.

  Mostly
in compromising positions, like kissing, there were even photos of us the night out on the Riviera.

  My lips parted, but no words came out.

  “There’s nothing I don’t know, Abigail.”

  “Are you following me?” I finally managed.

  “I would have been foolish not to, after what happened at the Swan Swell.” Grandpa folded his arms, watching me. “I know now you were not behind those photos, just like I know that it doesn’t really matter because, in the end…” He sifted through some of them. “You were still a disappointment.”

  A stale silence lingered, his disappointment etched in the wrinkles around his mouth. At me. At Theo.

  “What are you going to do to him?”

  “Do you remember the night you begged me to keep Theo?”

  “U-Uh…” It felt like a trap.

  “Theo doesn’t have any family, anything to keep him attached to something other than the job. He was the perfect protégé. At least, he was. What can you take from someone who has nothing, Abigail?”

  I rolled my bottom lip between my teeth, recognizing that either way I answered, I’d lose.

  “You take away what you’ve given them.”

  I ran over to his desk, slamming my hands on it. “You can’t send him away. Please.”

  I couldn’t lose Theo, not again.

  He leaned forward on steepled fingers, eyes narrowed. “I think that’s up to you, princess.”

  Princess.

  He was calling me princess again, but the warmth had been replaced with an ominous lilt.

  “This marriage isn’t a death sentence, Abigail. You can have your cake and eat it too. You just have to remember… you can’t be a Crowne without many sharp points.”

  I focused on the meaning behind his words. Beryl Crowne would do anything to keep the Crowne name untarnished. Fear and foreboding strangled my gut.

  I swallowed. “I understand. You’re either for this family or against it.”

  THEO

  I can feel Abigail slipping through my fingers, and I don’t know why, or how to fix it. Tonight will be the first meal she’d have with her grandpa since I’d wrecked that relationship, the first time she’d be in the room with him.