“Do you remember the first romance we read?” I blurted.
A bird’s song trickled in through the open window, counting the silence in its melody.
I don’t know why he read them, he wasn’t a fan, but anytime I read one, he would too. When I got into Twilight, he finished them before me. He was Team Edward and I was Team Jacob. He said, and I quote, “I knew you were dumb, Abigail, but maybe we should check you for a brain tumor.”
I like books, but Theo loves them. He teased me about my love of romance, but he’s the only person who ever read them with me.
Theo didn’t respond, so I kept talking.
“You said that fairy tales and happily ever afters were for rich people… bet you feel fucking stupid now,” I said on a laugh. I worked the fine, shimmery fabric of my dress between my fingers, hating it. It was beautiful and a fucking lie—like everything in my life.
“I know things are messed up between us.” I lifted my eyes and found his hard glare had softened.
“Abigail…”
God, I could forget everything with that voice and the eyes behind it. He took a step to me, and I knew if he touched me, I’d cave.
“Do you ever think about looking for her? Your mother…” I whispered.
“No.” His voice was firm.
“What if somebody found her for you?” I offered. “I know I screwed up everything…” I rubbed my forehead, probably messing up the artfully manufactured glow placed there only moments before. “I don’t know why you’re still here…” If you still want revenge a scared, uncertain part of my brain whispered. “I know that… you can… you should find her.”
It went so much better in my head. I was going to say how he could do so much better than follow me around, and he deserved better than being the Crowne dog. He could find his real family. I know how much that meant to him. It was all he ever wanted.
I was going to tell him how I hired an investigator, and there was hope.
Instead it came out a jumbled, weird mess of alphabet soup.
“I miss you,” I confessed. “You’re here, but it’s worse than when you were gone. I feel like you’re getting ready to leave me again.”
“Sweet girl,” he murmured, a guarded smile on his face. “I would never leave you, not willingly, not unless I had to.”
The words were so much different than the first time he’d spoken them. They tightened around my heart like barbed wire, instead of soothing like silk.
“You would tell me if you were going to leave, right?” I asked. Theo nodded, but it felt off.
“Promise?” I teased, and his eyes clouded, landing on the bracelet of his I still wore. I fiddled with the beads, insecure, and moved to slide it off to give it back.
His hand landed on my wrist, stopping me.
“No. Wear it. I like you having something of mine. To think of me.” He thumbed the beads on my wrist, that foreign emotion clouding his eyes again. Was it sorrow? That couldn’t be right.
“Theo?” I placed my free palm on his cheek, and instantly his hand was over mine. His grip wasn’t light like mine, he pressed my hand deep into his sharp cheekbone, until I was sure it hurt.
“You were the most distracting fairy tale, Abigail Crowne, but you were worth every harsh reality.”
“I’m not a fairy tale. I’m here—”
His lips crushed mine, hands diving into my hair. I gasped at the suddenness of his bruising lips. He took advantage of my open mouth, tongue seizing mine, swallowing my sighs.
His kisses were rough and grating and tender at the same time. After so many days of callous Theo, I didn’t care how his love came. I’d wrap myself up in the thorns of his affection.
We pulled back for a breath, his eyes burning and pained, our foreheads pressed together. His hands smoothed up and down my arms, from shoulder to wrist.
I had thought that maybe I could tell him about his mom and heal us. Show him much I loved him, and what could be.
A grand gesture.
We could go back to before.
“I found her,” I whispered. “I found your mother.”
Theo didn’t immediately pull away. I think it would have been easier if he had. He slowly withdrew from me. It was agonizing, like ripping out fingernails one by one, but all the while his stare was on me.
Digging.
Finally I turned away. I couldn’t take it anymore. I grabbed my leather clutch to get my phone, finding the email, handing it to him.
For a long while, he simply stared.
Then there came a moment when I thought I’d done the right thing. When Theo’s eyes cracked with what I thought was heartbreak, but eventually shone with wonder. His eyes found mine, and I believed I’d fixed us.
Then everything crashed.
“Are you trying to get in my head?” he asked.
His stare was bitter cold, his words even more so. Goose bumps rose along my flesh, a warning.
“What? No—”
Theo threw my phone at the wall, cutting me off. It cracked, breaking into pieces. I tore my gaze from the remnants of my phone, back to Theo.
I was fucking this up so much.
“Then why? I fucking told you to stay out of it, Abigail.” He took a step toward me, still speaking with the chillingly callous tone, as if he hadn’t just left a dent in the pretty color my mother fired numerous decorators to achieve.
“I just…”
“Why did you do this, Abigail? Why did you do this now—” He broke off and rubbed his face, turning from me.
His back rose and fell with his breaths.
“This is why you wanted so desperately to read it. Classic fucking fire starter.”
“No!” I scrambled. “It’s—I—what if she wants to see you, Theo?”
He turned back, glare sharp. “She doesn’t. She gave me up.”
“She was fifteen.”
“And? You kept me. You kept me when you were fifteen.”
“It’s not the same,” I whispered.
It was the wrong thing to say, again. Every shadow on his face was magnified by ten. The hollows beneath his sharp cheekbones, the dark of his brow, the muscle along his jawline. He was furious, and I was making it worse.
Was it the same? His mom probably felt like she couldn’t provide for him, probably thought giving him up was the best she could do. She had no idea what would happen to Theo. She was selfless.
I saw Theo, and all I thought was how lonely he looked, and how lonely I was. I thought this boy might understand me. I might finally feel something other than emptiness. I wasn’t thinking about providing a better life for him; I was thinking about making a better one for myself.
I was selfish.
“Goddamn it, Abby. What’s inside this?” He went back to his black bag, pulling out the red diary.
“She tells you she loves you,” I said. On every page, on every single page she told him she loves him. “She gave you that diary, Theo, and without it, we never would have found her.”
“It’s her reason for leaving me. It’s not a map; it’s a goddamn goodbye.”
“Theo…”
“Fucking drop it, Abigail.” All his careful bodyguard composure fell, eyes blazing. “Stop pushing your issues on me. You can’t make her love me anymore than you can love yourself.”
Tears blurred the edges of my vision. I swiped them away, absently wondering if they’d bothered to use waterproof mascara.
Theo glanced at his watch. “We should go.”
26
ABIGAIL
Ned was just outside the gilded white double doors. Soon I’d link my arm in his and walk down the steps. His dad would be happy our families got along, happy I was keeping my worlds separate. The acquisition would be solidified. I’d probably make my mom happy. The rich would get richer. Great.
I didn’t even give a shit about that at the moment.
Everything was so fucked up between Theo and me. I’d declared my love for him, and he’d declared his for me. Instead o
f bringing us together, it propelled us apart. Frantic, nervous energy zinged in my veins.
“I don’t want to go through this door. I don’t want to put my arm in his hand.” Word vomit spilled out of me. “I don’t want to do it. I want…”
I want you, Theo Hound.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Theo said from behind me. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”
There was a deadly determination in his voice that should’ve comforted me. Instead chills ran up my spine.
I tried to lighten the mood. “I know. You’re my guard dog. You’re always behind me.”
The doors were opening, light and laughter and music seeping in through the crack.
Holding my dress up, I spun away from the doors, into the pale green eyes of Theo.
“I love you,” I said. I’m sure my eyes were too wide, my voice too desperate.
The music got louder. Golden light bathed Theo’s face. The door was open and waiting for me. It must’ve been only seconds, but it felt like an eternity for him to respond.
“For now,” Theo said at last.
My heart bottomed out with the force of an elevator crashing and shattering to the floor.
I didn’t want to, but I had to turn away. The gossamer of my dress floated against the marble floor as I stepped through the door. Ned stood to the side, waiting for me.
I linked arms with Ned, my guard dog always at my back.
Always.
27
ABIGAIL
Theo disappeared.
The second I hit the steps with Ned, I turned to look over my shoulder at him and he’d just…disappeared. I tried not to panic. He wouldn’t leave me alone with Ned, not on purpose, not unless something was wrong.
Ten minutes later and I hadn’t stopped looking for him, and neither had Ned left my side. He was sticky tape from hell.
“Give me a chance, babe,” Ned said. “I’m such a nice guy”—I almost did a double-take. “The reason my dad is even considering merging with your company is because of me, Abby.”
This time I did do a double-take.
“What do you mean?”
“I had to have you. I’d do anything for you. Even making my dad see the benefit of being part of Crowne Industries.”
I bit my lower lip until pain drowned out all the awful emotions clogging my throat. It wasn’t enough to terrorize it, he had to ruin my life too?
“I’ve done everything for you. Why not give me a chance? I promise I’ll make you so happy. I’ll buy you everything you want. I’ll give you the fucking world.”
“What do you like about me, Ned?” I asked.
“Everything.”
I arched a brow. “What’s my favorite color?”
“Um…”
Trick question, Abs. You love them all.
“My favorite food? What books do I read? Am I Team Edward or Team Jacob?”
“You like sports?” He shrugged. “I can get into sports.”
Wow.
“So, what do you like about me?”
“You’re a Crowne, Abigail. What’s not to love? From the moment I saw you in Latin III, I was floored.”
“Would you still love me if I wasn’t a Crowne?” I mused.
That stopped him in his tracks.
I wondered if I’d convinced him. If he finally saw he didn’t love me, he loved my Crowne.
“You’ll never stop being a Crowne.” He said it as if assuring himself.
Uneasy is the girl who wears the name Crowne.
Uneasy, unloved, unnoticed, uncared for.
“Maybe…”
Then I spotted silken brown hair, tall and towering above the rest of the crowd. Near the back, by the glittering glass windows.
Theo?
I stood on my tiptoes, trying to see more clearly.
“Is it because of the fucking dog?”
“Don’t call him that.” I shot Ned a glare. Funny how I found my strength the more Ned showed his face.
He’s a lumbering shadow behind letters and pictures and threats I can’t fight. In person, he’s the teenage boy who shivered when I kissed him playing spin the bottle.
I looked back over the crowd, trying to see. I swear it was Theo. Why was he by the windows?
“As if the only reason I don’t want you is because I want someone else.” That nearly had me laughing.
“I see you wondering where he went.”
I looked away.
Ned snatched my wrist, forcing me to look at him.
“What are you going to do, slap me?” I asked. “Slap the woman you apparently love?”
His grip tightened, but he let me go. I resisted the urge to rub my wrist.
“He doesn’t want you, Abby. Not like I do.” Thank God for that. “He’s not like us. He’s a social climber.”
“Theo Hound is not a social climber,” I said. Theo was so far from that you’d have to measure it in parsecs, but someone like Ned wouldn’t understand.
“Everyone knows it. The story is famous. The reject fell in love with the only thing to ever love her back, a dog who abandoned her for a chance at her sister.”
I chewed my bottom lip until I tasted blood. Ned’s words ripped pieces of me I’d been pretending didn’t exist, wounds that tore and tore and never healed. I wish Ned had laughed at or taunted me; it would’ve felt less real. He looked at me with pity. How dare someone like him look at someone like me with pity.
Theo didn’t fuck my sister.
He didn’t.
He’d promised it was all a misunderstanding.
Promises were sacred between us…
“The precious dog got sent away, and the moment he came back she forgave him, only for the dog to do it all over again.”
Freezing water filled my veins.
Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.
“Clever,” I managed, my throat stuffed with cotton.
Ned looked at his phone, an ugly smile spreading his lips.
“Do you really want to know where he went?” he asked, too quietly. His arm landed on my shoulder. I couldn’t move to take it off, a deer caught in the moment about to kill her. “Because I just saw him, actually…” Ned showed me his phone. “We all did.”
No.
The picture was under the finsta hashtag Abbyslostdog. Everyone was commenting, laughing at me. It had to be a mistake, a mirage, a deadly figment sprung from my darkest nightmares.
Then Ned gripped my chin, twisting my head to make me look. Through the crowd of ball gowns, tiaras, and tuxes, the picture came to life: Theo and Gemma kissing.
Theo opened his eyes, as if sensing me through the sea of tulle and satin, connecting with mine.
I dropped my champagne flute, briefly registering the cold gold liquid on my open toes.
Theo’s hand grasped the back of my sister’s head, his tongue diving deep into her mouth; then he looked back at her, and the crowd collapsed.
I shucked Ned off, pushing through the crowd.
Cries of Excuse me! echoed around me as my elbows flung to push them out of the way. I heard glass crash, red wine spill. My eyes were glued on the spot I’d seen Theo. Laughter, the trill of the violin, faded away.
Why would he do that?
It makes no sense.
Unless every little thing we’ve done has been…
I couldn’t fathom it.
I was so close to the spot I’d seen them. Just a few more feet and I could confirm what I’d seen. I pushed aside the remaining satin and black… and was grabbed so tightly above my elbow I snapped back like a rubber band.
“What are you doing?” my mom demanded.
“I…” He was just beyond this wall of people.
I pushed my mom away, breaking through the last of them.
Empty. Just a dark window and glittering sconces. I looked left and right. Had I imagined it? As relief was about to cool my anxiety, I noticed my mother’s must-sparkle-like-a-diamond window was smudged. I stepp
ed closer and pressed my finger to the glass, imagining Theo and Gemma.
Their mouths heating the glass.
I fell against the glass. It had to be a mistake.
“What is it this time?” Mother pulled me from the window. “Not enough of a spotlight on Abigail Crowne during her own engagement party?”
“How did you find my box?” I asked, a horrible thought slicing through me. “Did you guess? Did you see me put it there?”
“I have better things to do than go rummaging through the FEMA relief zone that is your room. It was given to me.”
I all but slid down the window.
There was only one person who could give it to her.
Tansy Crowne didn’t lie. Truth hurt better than lies. Truth was a better, sharper weapon to wield. Lies were blunt, vulgar weapons used by weaker people, those who didn’t have the power to ascertain truths.
And yet.
“He wouldn’t do that. You’re lying.”
She didn’t honor such an accusation with a response, lifting up her wineglass and waving to someone across the room.
That, combined with what I’d seen, chipped away what little hope I had left.
I’m going to break your heart, and you’re going to thank me.
This had all been one, elaborate ruse. A game to trick me. To make me fall in love with him. The air was too thin. I took sharp, gasping breaths, but it just made it worse. My vision was going black, my knees giving way.
My mom was on me in an instant, eyes elsewhere, smiling like I wasn’t having a meltdown. “Stand up before you make a scene,” she said through clenched teeth.
“I. Can’t. Breathe.”
“Then grow another set of lungs.”
She hauled me off the floor, linking arms with me like we were going on a mother-daughter walk, when in reality she was tugging me out of the ballroom.
“Let me go!” I tore out of my mother’s grip. “Can’t you see something is wrong? Don’t you care?”
The muscle in her jaw twitched. “I think you’ve had enough fun tonight.”
“I think so,” I agreed.
My mother’s disappointment was apparent, but for once in my fucking life, I cared more about something else than her approval. She breathed fire through her nostrils, then turned on her heel, disappearing back into the party.
Vote Then Read: Volume II Page 205