by B. B. Hamel
“Oh, shit,” he says.
He goes through the same thing I just went through. He’s in denial and I don’t bother trying to talk him out of it. I throw a blanket over my shoulders, covering myself a little bit better since I can see him stealing glances at my body still. I pour a mug of coffee from a very large carafe, thanks to Beth for that one, and take a long sip while he comes to grip with our situation.
“So I guess it’s not normal when clothes disappear,” I say.
“No. It’s definitely not normal.”
“Okay, just checking. I can’t really tell with you people sometimes.”
He shoots me a look. “What the fuck happened?”
“I was hoping you could tell me.”
He shakes his head. “I’m not sure. Did you see anyone? Hear anyone? Talk to anyone?”
“Just Beth down in the kitchen,” I say.
“Who?”
I roll my eyes. “You don’t even know the chef’s name.”
“They change all the time,” he says dismissively. “Okay, other than Beth, the chef. Did you see anyone else?”
“No.”
He curses, goes through the drawers again, and curses some more. Finally, he storms over and pours himself some coffee. He drinks it scalding hot and black and winces a little when it clearly burns his tongue.
“Fuck,” he says. “Fucking fuck.”
“What do we do?”
“I’m pretty sure I know what happened but I can’t prove it.”
“Okay. That’s not super helpful, though.”
He glares at me. “I’m aware.”
“Want to share your theory?”
He sips the coffee, this time blowing on it a bit first. “I think one of my brothers broke in here and stole all our clothes.”
“Oh, right. Of course. Your brothers took all our clothes. Why didn’t I think of that?”
He glares at me again. “I’m not playing around here, Casey. They’re going to take any opportunity they can to fuck with us and this is just the start.”
“You don’t know that’s what happened. A maid or whatever could’ve come in here, taken some stuff—”
“Nobody would come right into a room and take something from the drawers. Dirty clothes go in the basket, and they only take what’s in the basket for laundry.” He shakes his head. “No, someone did this on purpose.”
“Fine, so you’re telling me that we just got pranked, and now we’re both stuck in dirty workout clothes?”
“Well, I’m stuck in dirty workout clothes. You’re in a towel and a blanket, apparently.”
Now it’s my turn to glare. “Ryan.”
“Yea, yeah. Look, I’ll ask Mia for some clothes for you and I’ll borrow some from… shit, I don’t know, one of my uncles, I guess. Then we’ll go into town and get some new stuff.”
“Are you joking? You want to just buy all new clothes.”
He shrugs. “We’re not getting our old stuff back in one piece, my darling. So we might as well be pragmatic.”
“I can’t afford all new clothes. Some of my favorite stuff was taken. This is bullshit.”
“Yeah, it is. But if you run out there and start making a scene, it’ll only fuck us both, so take a breath.”
I want to punch him in the face but instead I listen. I take a long breath and steady myself.
“Look, this is what they want. If you get all mad and start making accusations, it’ll make you look like you’re unstable. My father will never leave me the company if you get angry and start pointing fingers.”
“So we’re just screwed then?”
“More or less.”
“You’re buying the clothes.”
“No kidding.” He grins at me. “One perk of being filthy rich, I guess.”
I roll my eyes and sit down on the couch. “Go get me clothes. And hurry. I’m getting cold.”
“Yes, my dear.”
He leaves the room with a quick backwards glance and a smile.
So it begins. This is what he warned me about. It’s harmless, as far as it goes, I guess. They could’ve poured pig’s blood on us or something like that. Instead, they just stole our clothes.
Those assholes are going to pay. I’m not sure how, but they will.
First though, I’m making sure that my new wardrobe is even better than the original one.
Ryan returns with a pair of jeans that just barely fit and a sweater for me. He has on some baggy khaki pants and a button-down shirt. We look like mismatched cartoonish hobos, but whatever, they’re clothes. He rustles up two travel mugs, fills them with coffee, and then leads me through the house.
As we step down and walk toward the back door, we pass by a little group of people. Joel’s one of them and he detaches himself.
“Where are you off to, eldest brother?”
“Off to the mainland,” Ryan says. “Tell Mom and Dad I’m taking the boat.”
“I don’t think that’s appropriate,” Joel says. “You don’t just get to—”
Ryan stop and turns to face his younger brother. “Actually, I do, since some asshole decided to take all our clothes. And don’t worry, I’m not accusing you.” More quietly, he adds, “I don’t need to. Dickhead.”
Joel just smiles. “Have a nice trip.”
We leave the house and walk down along the manicured lawn again. Ryan’s grumbling to himself the whole way. We don’t stop at the first dock we landed at, but instead walk halfway around the island. It takes about ten minutes, but I spot another dock up ahead with a small boathouse attached.
Inside is a sleek, shining, pretty little speedboat. Ryan gets it set up expertly while I watch. He helps me inside, turns on the engine, and we slowly pull out. Once we’re clear of the dock, he guns it, and the boat just flies.
We don’t talk as we soar over the waves. It’s actually nice, all things considered. My clothes don’t fit, but the spray feels good and he’s handsome up there, piloting the boat. The sun’s shining and I sip from my travel mug, trying to enjoy myself.
But I keep thinking about the look Joel gave Ryan back there. It was pure giddy delight in our situation. There’s no doubt in my mind that he’s the one who broke into our room and stole our clothes, no doubt in my mind at all. I can’t prove it, but I just know it, and I suspect Ryan knows it too.
It doesn’t take long for us to reach the mainland. We boat across some open water but never lose sight of land. Up ahead, another island looms up, but this one’s much larger and there’s a fairly sizable city along the coast.
“What’s that?” I call out.
“Alaska,” he says. “Well, another island, technically. Mainland Alaska is further out.”
“So it’s not the mainland at all, then.”
“Okay, right. We just call it that.”
“Confusing. Also dumb.”
He laughs and shrugs. “Whatever. You’re getting free clothes, so what do you care?”
I grin at him. “New, expensive clothes.”
“That’s my girl. Take me for all I’m worth.”
I lean back and enjoy the rest of the ride. He pulls the boat into a little dock and gets out. He ties it off and we head into town together. It’s not a big place and there aren’t a lot of people, but there are a few stores.
“Here,” he says, handing me a credit card. “Buy whatever you want or need, okay? If you get into trouble, just call my cell.”
“We’re splitting up?”
“Unless you feel like sitting in a men’s department while I try on shirts for the next half hour, yep.”
“Right. Getting the hell away from you.”
He grins at me. “Get something pretty, okay? Something you’ll look hot in.”
“I always look hot.”
“Right. But really slut it up.”
“You want slutty? I can do slutty.”
He laughs a little and stretches. “Just don’t go overboard. I want you making all the other women jealous, but not so cra
zy that my mom hates you.”
“So you don’t want slutty? This is whiplash.”
He puts his arm around me and pulls me against him. “I want slutty, but I think we need something a little more appropriate.”
“Understood. But you can slut it up for me, okay?” I pat him on the chest then slip out of his grasp. “Later, hubby.”
“Bye, wifey.”
I wave to him then hurry off.
I duck into a shoe store first. I buy a pair of flats, sneakers, heels and boots, figuring I’d better cover all my bases. I grab another pair of heels, just for fun, before heading to a little boutique next door. I get some yoga pants, comfortable tops, sports bras, actual bras, and a decent number of ridiculously overpriced panties. The girl ringing me up looks pleased as the amount tops two grand.
I move on, get some more tops at a store next door, a couple pairs of jeans, and a few dresses. I get a sweatshirt and few sweats, just because I could probably use a few, and when I’m finally done I’m so overburdened with bags that I can barely move.
But I finally find myself outside of a CVS. I sit on a bench for a moment, surveying the bags around me. I just bought more clothes in like twenty minutes than I’ve bought in the last five years. And I think I just spent more money on clothes than I’ve spent on clothes in my entire life. It’s an absurd thing, being given a credit card with no limit, but I have no shame apparently.
There’s still one more thing. Something I’ve been thinking about ever since first meeting Ryan. It’s been nagging at me, bugging me, but I’ve ignored it. I probably shouldn’t ignore it anymore, even if it’s probably not big deal.
I duck into the CVS, absurd bags and all. I find the pregnancy tests, pick out three different brands, and buy them all. I toss them into a bag, making sure to tuck them under a boring sweater.
It’s probably nothing. My period’s late, but this happens sometimes. I’m pretty regular, but still, it happens.
Then again, we didn’t use protection that first and only time. Looking back, I must’ve gone insane to sleep with him, and even more insane to let him finish inside of me.
But we did and now here we are. My period’s late, I’m a little worried, but I’m not letting it get to me.
I meet Ryan down at the dock ten minutes later after stopping into another boutique and buying something special. He looks at me and grins at the absurd amount of bags I’m carrying.
“You did good,” he says, lifting up his own absurd amount of bags.
“Wow. I think we probably just bought every decent piece of clothing on this entire island.”
“Pretty much.” He cocks his head at me and looks me up and down. I’m wearing a new pair of black jeans, a pair of sneakers, and a loose-fitting comfortable sweater. He smiles. “You look good.”
“Thanks. You look better.”
“Oh, I know.” He looks down at his jeans and simple button-down shirt. “Beats that other stuff.”
“What’d you do with it?”
“Burned it. What’d you do with yours?”
“Put it in a bag so I can give it back to Mia.” I give him a look. “Did you really burn your uncle’s clothes?”
“Yep.” He hops into the boat. “Let’s go back.”
I laugh and follow him. I’m reluctant to leave. I want to just stay on the island, have lunch with him, maybe talk a little bit. I don’t want to go back to that creepy house with its awful people and its weirdly dangerous hedge maze.
But he casts off and away we go. I clutch the bag with the pregnancy tests against me, not really thinking about it, as the boat rips through the waves.
8
Ryan
I can’t say that I was surprised to find all our clothes gone.
Well, surprised by the specific prank. But not surprised that some mean-spirited bullshit had been pulled. I know it was Joel and he all but confirmed, although it doesn’t matter. I’m not going to dime him out to my parents or some shit like that.
This is just between us.
I’m plotting my revenge the rest of the day. We make it back by lunch and eat with half the family out by the pool. Some people play volleyball and we join in. Casey seems to get along really well with Anne and Mia, and she seems to be keeping the sisters from fighting, at least a little bit.
The day goes on and it’s actually not bad. I avoid my brothers and they avoid me. I mostly talk with Emily and some uncles, but eventually I need a little alone time. I duck out from the main group, slip into workout stuff, and hit the gym again. I feel a little bad leaving Casey behind, but she’s playing volleyball and seems pretty into it.
I head down the halls, walking silently. I’m thinking about seeing Casey in just a towel early this morning as I take a step into the gym then stop myself.
Clothes are strewn around all over. They’re covering the weights, the treadmills, the mats, the rowing machine. They’re torn and ripped to shreds like a wild animal was let loose on them. It takes me a slow moment to realize that half the clothes are mine, and the other half must be Casey’s.
“So this is where you got to,” I mutter to myself.
“Real mess, huh?”
I nearly jump at the voice. I look over and spot Connie, little cousin Connie, sitting in the corner of the room with her phone and a pair of headphones.
“Hey, Connie,” I say. “I didn’t see you there.”
“I know. I was hiding.”
I smile and walk over. I crouch down then sit next to her with a sigh. “What are you doing?”
“Watching stupid crap on my phone and pretending I’m somewhere else.”
I sigh and lean my head against the wall. “Yeah. I was about to do the same.”
“Except you lift heavy things when you’re stressed.”
“Yep. I’m shredded every time I leave this little stupid retreat.”
She laughs a little and leans her head back. “Why do we keep doing it?”
“What?”
“Come here. Nobody likes it. My parents fight like crazy on the way up and on the way back. My brothers are assholes to me the whole time we’re here. Everyone always fights with each other. So why do we do it?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “Family is important, I guess.”
“Even when family really sucks?”
“Even then.” I laugh a little. “You’re right though. We come here for a week, make each other miserable, and then leave again. The only ones that seems to enjoy it are my parents.”
“Since everyone’s kissing their asses all week.”
“Especially my dad.”
“Isn’t that what you’re here to do, though? Kiss your dad’s ass?”
I look at her. “Pretty much. I’m not gonna lie.”
“Can’t blame you. I’d kiss his ass too if it meant I’d get that company.”
“Yeah,” I say. “Except sometimes I think it’s more about my brothers not getting it than it is about me getting it.”
She snorts. “I understand that.”
“I bet you do.”
We’re quiet for a long moment. I look at my clothes, thrown around the room, ripped to pieces, and I don’t feel mad. I just feel tired.
“This is all your stuff, isn’t it?” Connie asks.
“Yep.”
“Joel?”
“Probably.”
“What a dick. I bet it took him forever to rip it all up.”
“Definitely.”
“Loser.” She shakes her head. “He’s the worst one. You know that, right?”
“I know,” I say.
“Want me to help you clean it up?”
“I don’t want to take you from your internet crap.”
She puts her phone down and takes the earbuds out. “Family’s important, right? Even if you’re all a bunch of psychos.”
I laugh and stand then help her up. I don’t know Connie all that well, honestly. She’s always been really young, the baby of the family. It’s only been the
se last few years, as she’s gotten older, that we’ve started to bond a little.
I think of everyone, she’s the sanest. She has the best chance to make it out alive.
For her sake, I hope my dad dies sooner rather than later.
We gather up all the clothes into a huge pile. I wave down a staff member in the hall and ask for a couple of trash bags. They show up a few minutes later, so I shove it all in there, and heft it onto my back.
“You sure you don’t want to work out?” Connie asks. “I can go hide somewhere else. The library’s usually quiet. Our family hates reading.”
“No, it’s okay.”
“You sure? I like the music room too, except Uncle Toby goes in there sometimes.”
“I’m sure. And definitely stay away from Uncle Toby.”
She makes a face. “Learned that a lot time ago. He’s harmless, but he’s super weird.”
“Yep. Weirder than the rest of us.” I smile at her. “Thanks, Connie.”
“Sure thing.”
I nod to her then head off. She plops back down on the floor and looks at her phone. I shut the door behind me and hope that nobody decides to work out anytime soon, at least for her sake.
I lug the bags back to our room. I unlock the door and slip inside. The shower’s running so I dump all the clothes out on the bed, every ripped-up scrap, and wait for Casey to finish. The shower turns off and I hear her moving around in there before the door opens.
She steps out wearing a sports bra and a pair of lacey black panties.
I look at her for a second and she looks back. “I need to get used to putting on clothes,” she says.
“No, you don’t.” I step toward her.
“Is that what I think it is?” she asks, looking at the pile.
I don’t follow her gaze. I’m too busy looking at her lean, gorgeous body. The sports bra somehow makes her even sexier, covering her breasts but her pink little nipples are stiff beneath the fabric. The lacy black panties are so goddamn gorgeous, hugging her curves, covering that dripping wet little pussy only just.
“Yep,” I say.
She looks at me and bites her lip. “Ryan.”
“Don’t say it.” I step closer. I’m inches away now. I could reach out and grab her hair if I wanted. “Don’t fuck this up.”