Vote Then Read: Volume II

by Lauren Blakely

  I was in Switzerland, which meant everyone had to dress for dinner. I was in a tux and Abigail was in an absolutely fucking cruel strapless black-and-emerald dress with a slit in the jewel-toned satin skirt that went all the way to her hip.

  As I walked behind her to the vaulted medieval dining room of their Swiss castle, the grains kept falling. If I told him the truth, he’d fire me and make sure I never saw Abigail. Not telling him wasn’t an option either.

  “Theo!” Her grandfather spotted me, waving me over to him at the end of the table. Abigail watched me warily as I went to him.

  He clapped my shoulder. “I think a promotion is in order when this wedding is finished. You’ve been handling her well. Not a peep by the press.”

  Abigail eyed me as she took a seat at the table.

  Fuck.

  “I’m curious, what could you possibly have done to get her so cooperative?” Beryl Crowne asked, digging his fingers into my shoulder.

  “Just the usual…” I trailed off.

  Beryl’s death grip on my shoulder wouldn’t give. “And did you enjoy your time on the Riviera?”

  Abigail dropped her fork, eyes shooting to her grandfather’s. I focused on the meaning behind the words, uncertain why fear clouded Abigail’s eyes, why he was digging his fingers into me like I’d pissed him off.

  Don’t date my granddaughters, don’t even look at them, and don’t get any ideas about biting the hand that feeds you.

  Did he know?

  “Oh, you made it!” Tansy said.

  “How was your flight?” Beryl dropped my grip with his question, voice light.

  Tansy’s thick wood chair slid along the marble floor, a servant at her back. A smile still lingered on my face when I saw who’d captured their attention. The mood didn’t vanish; it faded like smoke.

  Standing in the arched doorway was the asshole terrorizing Abigail.

  He ruffled his hair, lazy smile landing on Abigail. “The flight was too long, but I’m here now.”

  I had him pressed against the gold-trimmed doorway before I could think. It was instinct. My forearm was at his throat, digging into his Adam’s apple, applying just enough pressure to keep him conscious.

  Tansy Crowne’s shrill voice rang out behind me, telling me to let him go.

  “You’re here early.” Abigail’s voice shook, and for that, I dug the forearm at his throat deeper.

  Wait—early?

  “Couldn’t wait to see you, babe,” he coughed the words, face purpling.

  My glare deepened into an ache. Did she know he was coming?

  Tansy had welcomed him. Beryl had welcomed him. He had gotten into one of the most fortified houses in the world. This guy wasn’t just one of them, he was somehow close with the Crownes. I stared at him, and as if reading my thoughts, he fucking smiled.

  “Have you lost your mind?” Tansy shouted once more. “Let go of Abigail’s fiancé.”

  22

  THEO

  “Theo, let him go,” Abigail said, suddenly at my side.

  A good Crowne employee let him go, because whatever he’d done to Abigail, he was in their good graces.

  I would fucking kill him.

  “Let him go,” Abigail beseeched. She pressed her splayed hands into my side, trying to push me off.

  From the corner of my eye, I could see Crowne guards making their way toward me. Mr. Crowne was getting out of his chair. While he had a smile on his face as he reassured Mrs. Harlington, there was nothing but coldness in his eyes.

  I weighed the pros and cons of snapping this guy’s neck right then and there. As if sensing what I was doing, and knowing the outcome, his blue eyes glittered smug and assured.

  My grip at his neck tightened, happy to see him grow red.

  “Theo, please,” Abigail begged. Fucking begged.

  I stepped off, shaking out my arms so I wouldn’t wring his neck.

  His collar was wrinkled, and he rubbed his neck, but the fucking grin stayed on his face.

  I let Abigail shove me out of the dining room, into the hall and all the way back to her wing, until we were in her room. Then I yanked my arm out of her hold. I dragged my hands through my hair, looking into her searching eyes. Everything in my body wanted to beat the shit out of him, end this fucking problem right now.

  All my helplessness came rushing out in rage. “You fucking lied, Abigail. Again. You know him.”

  What other secrets had she been keeping? She was sand. Slipping and slipping through holes I couldn’t see. She looked away, to an ornate silver mirror cutting our reflections in half.

  “How long have you known?”

  “Spain,” she admitted. “Well, I knew I’d gone to boarding school with him at the afterparty…”

  Helpless frustration rose hot and acerbic, cutting through my chest and up my throat. I couldn’t be helpless, so I got angrier.

  “How long have you known Grandfather was aware of us?”

  Her lips parted, a deer caught in headlights.

  “Fucking typical.” I laughed, but there was no humor in it. “You couldn’t tell the truth if there was a goddamn gun to your head.”

  “I was trying to avoid this!” Pain strangled her. There was no Abigail glow and spark in her cheeks, she was hollowed and bone dry. Even the chandelier above couldn’t warm her. She looked miserable.

  I started moving toward the dining room again, not certain of a plan but fueled by the need to fix this.

  Fix that look on her face.

  “You can’t.” She grabbed my wrist. I kept walking, dragging her with me. She dug her heels into the silver-blue patterned carpet in an attempt to anchor me.

  “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill him right now.”

  Her grip loosened enough for me to shuck her off, but I only made it a few more feet before she ran in front of me, arms splayed, attempting to block my path.

  “You’ll die.”

  I shrugged. “Not good enough.”

  I pushed her out of the way as gently as I could.

  Blood.

  That was the only way I’d be satisfied.

  “What about the fact that even if you manage to get past all the guards in there, I’d never see you again?” she yelled at my back. “What about me? What about what it will do to me?”

  I spun on her. “And what about me, Abigail? What do you think marrying him will do to me?”

  Her eyes found mine again, shining even in the low light. “Are you offering me something different?”

  I turned away with a curse.

  I had nothing, no life to offer her. She was Abigail Crowne, and if she didn’t marry who they told her to, she’d end up alone, abandoned, and discarded like I’d been.

  I couldn’t fucking do that to her.

  Helplessness and fear bubbled up, and I slammed my fist into the wall. Plaster fluttered to the floor, my breathing roaring thunder in my ears, and then I felt it… her hands. They were so light at first I thought it was air.

  I found her eyes, and she was already looking up at me. So gentle and fucking heartbreaking. As her world collapsed, she was still thinking of me.

  After a moment, she pulled back.

  I shook out my hand. “This isn’t okay.”

  “It doesn’t matter! It doesn’t matter, Theo. When has it ever?”

  I clasped her face between my palms and spun her around, pressing her against the wall. “You matter, Abigail. You matter.”

  I slammed her against the wall, pinning her in a kiss.

  ABIGAIL

  Theo’s kisses were everywhere at once. My neck, my chin, my lips. Biting, bruising lips that disappeared to my neck and came back to my mouth, robbing me of breaths and sighs.

  “Theo.” I tried to get his attention, but I could barely breathe through his kisses. He lifted both my hands, trapping them beneath one of his own. Loose plaster bit my back from where he’d punched the wall. In all my years with Theo, I’d never seen him lose control. Never. It w
as terrifying.

  I didn’t fear for myself. I feared for him.

  “Theo,” I tried again as he slid his hand up my thighs, inside the slit of my gown.

  Lips, teeth, skin.

  The room blurred, and I arched my back.

  “Theo!” I yelled, as much to stop him as myself.

  Theo froze, then slowly lifted his head from my neck. My heart broke. His lips were red from kissing me, his hair wild from how much he’d tangled it in his hands. His eyes were raw. An exposed nerve.

  I wiggled my wrists in his hold, wanting to caress his cheek and soothe him. He tightened his grip.

  “You have to let me handle it,” I said. “Whatever happens, you can’t do anything to Ned. You can’t go to my mom. You can’t.” My voice was soft, looking at him with round eyes. Pleading. “Promise me, Theo.”

  He ground his jaw. “I’m not playing this game—”

  “It’s not a fucking game. Promise me.”

  Theo exhaled through his nostrils. I waited. I wasn’t going to give in. I wasn’t going to let Theo throw his life away for me.

  “I promise,” he said, spitting out the words like bitter coffee.

  Before I could say another word, he slammed his lips against mine. The kiss was different—Theo was different. Rushed. Pressured. Intense. More. Like he was trying to use me up. All of me. It was exhilarating and scary.

  He ripped apart sateen buttons holding my gown together, shoving it down until I was in a puddle of green satin and black lace. I took off his jacket in the same breath he unbuttoned his shirt, then his pants.

  His large hands tangled in my hair, controlling my head so soft lips were on my neck, biting, bruising. He walked me back to the bed, hot skin flush against mine. His thick, muscled arms wrapped around me, holding me close.

  I don’t know why this feels like an ending.

  He fished a condom out of his pants pocket, and I put it on him this time. He was hot and hard beneath my hand, and he watched me do it, a hunger in his eyes that made my hands shake. When I finished, I trailed my fingers up the sculpted ridges of his eight pack, sliding up his pecs, around his neck.

  Theo pressed my collarbone, pushing me back to the bed with gentle force. Against the satin bedspread, I crawled on my elbows as he climbed on top of me. His lips found me almost as soon as they left me. Theo was looming, predatory, and ravenous.

  Then he was there—so agonizingly close to sliding inside me.

  I want to feel Theo without the barrier. I’ve never considered it before, but now it’s all I want.

  “Theo,” I breathed his name like a prayer.

  He pulled back so our foreheads were pressed, lips are a feather’s distance from mine. Tenderness warmed his eyes, but some other grim emotion distorted it, made it raw and aching.

  “I love you, Abigail.”

  It was so quiet, I thought maybe I’d misheard.

  I hope I did.

  He can’t love me. He can’t.

  “Through your lies and your emotional garbage, I love you—”

  “You can’t,” I blurted.

  All the warmth was sucked out of the room with my words, and suddenly I was ice cold beneath him.

  Theo looked like I’d slapped him. “I can’t?”

  He was still in that same aching spot. I was riding a wicked, dangerous edge, my heartbeat too loud in my ears. The throbbing between my thighs, the one in my heart, and the one rising in my throat all distort to one twisted feeling.

  “I mean—” I could feel him pulling away and I didn’t want him to do it physically so I grappled onto his shoulders. “I don’t know why I said that.”

  Yes, I did.

  Theo Hound couldn’t love me. It would be so much harder to keep him separate. To keep him safe.

  Keep me safe.

  Theo pushed off me and my heart rushed and pounded as he got farther away. I was screwing this up. I was fucking up everything. He was yanking on his jeans, throwing on his shirt, and I couldn’t think of the right words to fix it.

  “Theo, wait—”

  He stopped, his jeans unbuttoned, giving me one last chance.

  I had nothing. Nothing could make what he’d said okay. If the one boy—the one person—I couldn’t lose in this world started to love me, then I could lose him forever.

  The door slammed behind him. I should run after him and tell him how much I love him. I never stopped loving him. He was as essential to my heart as the blood that made it beat.

  Instead I fell to my back.

  The feel of our almost still lingered between my thighs, a deep-rooted, unsatisfied ache that now matched the one spreading from my chest. I was drowning. Wet, like he’d made me. Wet, from my tears.

  Tears fell down my cheeks, but I didn’t sob. I couldn’t. I was too shocked. Of all the fuckups I’d ever made, this was the worst. I didn’t just make him think it was okay to love me… I made him think I was worth it.

  23

  ABIGAIL

  I’d fucked up so much. Theo and I hadn’t spoken since last night, and now he just stood guard outside my room, like nothing happened. I’d opened my mouth so many times to speak, and each time closed it. I didn’t know what to say or do to fix it.

  Edward was the perfect needle to pop our rose-tinted bubble.

  I was the perfect needle.

  “Ten minutes until breakfast.”

  I slammed my laptop shut at his voice.

  He eyed the action, pain flickering in his eyes, but said nothing, stepping back to position. Guilt slammed into me.

  I’d caved and emailed a PI, and they’d messaged me back, told me they thought they weren’t sure they could find Theo’s mother, not with the little information I’d given them, but they’d try. I didn’t know how to tell him. Theo had made it clear he didn’t want to look for her, and I was worried he’d be mad, especially after last night.

  “Theo, wait!” I threw my laptop off my lap, jumping off the bed. “Let me explain.”

  He stared forward. “You don’t owe me any explanations.”

  “But—”

  “You’re going to be late for breakfast, Ms. Crowne.”

  Ms. Crowne. It was like the past months never happened. Last night never happened.

  I sighed and walked back into my bedroom to get dressed. In Switzerland, we always had to dress up, but at least for breakfast a tea-length periwinkle tulle dress would do, rather than a gown. Theo was in another mouthwatering slate-gray suit.

  We were just outside the breakfast hall when I grasped Theo’s sleeve, forcing him to acknowledge me. Even though Theo had been keeping his distance, he’d been even more protective, if it was possible. He refused to let me walk into any room first. He was constantly on guard.

  “Ask me a truth or promise,” I said, tugging on his sleeve, wrinkling the perfect press. He turned around, shoulders tensed.

  I took a step anyway, reaching for him. “Ask me.”

  “Rethink that step.” The hate in his growl could set a house on fire.

  I paused.

  Had I really messed everything up so badly?

  A moment passed, and then I noticed he wasn’t looking at me. I followed his stare over my shoulder. Ned was frozen mid step.

  That was all Theo said. He hadn’t moved from his spot behind me, arms folded as usual, head slightly down like he was bored at a concert. But it was all he needed to say. Menace dripped off him.

  Ned took a step back. “Guess the rumors about your dog are true…”

  He smiled somewhat nervously, looking over my shoulder.

  “He bites,” I said.

  “I’m just here to remind you you’ll be sitting next to me tomorrow at lunch,” Ned said, though he didn’t take his eyes off Theo.

  “Great,” I said, disdain oozing from my lips.

  “You can’t be there all the time, dog,” Ned said, eyes on Theo.

  A foreign look flickered across Theo’s face. Fear?

  That couldn’t be rig
ht.

  When he saw me watching him, it vanished.

  Theo leaned forward until he was over my shoulder, just next to my face. He clamped his teeth harsh and fast, the sound echoing, the motion fluttering the hair at my neck.

  It made goose bumps of excitement pepper my flesh, but Ned jumped and scampered inside the dining hall.

  The moment filled like a balloon, popping with our simultaneous laughter. For a minute I thought the mess I’d made last night was over, but then I caught his gaze as I wiped a tear from my eye, and his smile dropped. Silence descended once more.

  “Theo—”

  “Breakfast, Ms. Crowne,” Theo cut me off, throwing his arm out toward the dining hall.

  I studied his face, waiting—hoping he’d look back at me with anything other than boredom and disdain.

  Then I sighed and walked inside the dining hall.

  THEO

  Abigail fell asleep late into the night, and now I dug my elbows into my knee, my chin on steepled hands, watching her.

  I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t stop thinking. Edward knew the truth long before it hit me brutal and hard. He was untouchable.

  “These little dates of ours are growing too common.”

  I lifted my head.

  Tansy stood in the shadows, aglow only from the soft light leaking from Abigail’s bedroom. Quietly, so as not to wake Abigail, I crossed the room and met Tansy outside the bedroom door.

  “You know who that man is. You know what he’s done to your daughter.”

  Tansy barely registered emotion. “The boy you assaulted like a common street thug? Or do you mean our daughter’s fiancé? Our valued friend’s son?”

  “He’s lucky he’s not dead,” I gritted.

  She sighed through her nostrils. “Let’s get to the point. You need something from me, and I’m… in a mood to give it to you.”

  As far as I knew there was nothing I could offer this woman. Tansy Crowne had everything, but I’d spent enough time in this world to know the fact that she even came meant there was something she wanted from me. Something money couldn’t buy.