Faithless: A High School Bully Romance (The Privileged of Pembroke High Book 3)

by Ivy Fox

  “I don’t understand,” I choke out, more confused than I’ve ever been.

  “I know you don’t, and that’s partially my fault. But I’d like to explain everything if you let me.”

  I give her a stiff nod because, frankly, that’s all I’m capable of doing. Claire continues to shower me with an adoring gaze, but I don’t miss how she cleans her wet palm over her cashmere skirt, her nerves apparent.

  “Oh, dear. I’m quite nervous. I have no idea where to start,” she admits coyly.

  “The beginning would be nice.”

  “Right. Of course. Well, I guess that would be back at college. I already told you Vee was one of my sorority sisters, and as much as I didn’t care for her company, it was normal that we frequented many of the same events and parties together. One day your mother told us she was going to bring a date to one of our soirees—a hedge fund manager that Malcolm had taken a liking to and thought he’d be an excellent match for her.

  “By that time, Eleanor was already dating Malcolm exclusively, so I always thought that him setting Vee up with anyone was a strategic way for him to cut the cord with her. Eleanor might not have been bothered with the little digs Vee made at her expense when it came to grabbing Malcolm’s attention, but I think it pissed him off a great deal. Of course, I already felt bad for whoever got the short end of the stick to be in a relationship with Vee, but the night I met Craig, pitying him was the last thing on my mind. Quite the contrary.

  “I began to detest your mother even more because she was able to have such a gentle, kind man like him at her side. They were polar opposites from one another, and I couldn’t understand why he would continue to be in a relationship with such a vile woman. Until one day, he told me why. He said that he wouldn’t mind enduring twenty Viviennes if it meant he got the opportunity to still see me.”

  While Claire’s features soften, mine only tense up, not understanding why my father would willingly tolerate my mother and maintain a relationship with her if he had feelings for Claire. It just doesn’t make sense.

  “You’re confused.”

  “A little bit, yes. Why didn’t my father just break it off with my mother if he was interested in you?”

  “Because I was already engaged to my husband, Charles. My family and his have had my marriage planned out since I was still in diapers. Charles was on his way to becoming a U.S. senator, and if his family had their way, president. So, all my life I had been groomed to be the perfect first lady, and meeting the love of my life wouldn’t change that.”

  “Oh,” I whisper, hearing the pain in her words.

  “But even though I was promised to another, it never stopped your father from pursuing me. And being weak and madly in love with him, I gave in. Behind closed doors and clandestine meetings, all was right in my world. I loved and was loved genuinely until one day, the house of cards we had built came tumbling down. I became pregnant, and Craig was the father.”

  I feel my skin grow cold, and my heart starts to race at the last part of her woeful story. Thankfully, Claire takes pity on me and continues with her tale, stalling all the questions that my lips are ready to bombard her with.

  “With a baby on the way, I had to make a decision. I could be shunned by my family for such a betrayal and live the rest of my days with the man I loved, or I could lie.”

  “You didn’t choose my father.” It’s not a question, it’s a fact. If Claire had chosen my father, then she’d be my mother, not Vivienne. And that didn’t happen.

  “No, I didn’t, but I didn’t lie either. Not to Charles, at least. At first, I thought my baby was the bravery I needed to end the sham of a marriage I was being forced into. But when I confronted Charles with what I had done, he surprised me. He told me he’d raise my baby as his own, and none of my family members or our friends would ever need to know about my betrayal. The only thing he demanded was to end my affair, and never see Craig again.

  “In the end, I guess I wasn’t brave enough to follow my heart, and I lost Craig because of it. If I knew then what I know now, I’d make a different choice, believe me. Finding love is a miracle in itself; discarding it as an inconvenience is the worst sin a person can make. I’ve been serving my penance every day since I walked out the door on our love.”

  I swallow dryly, my throat constricting the next question from leaving my lips. However, it’s one I need to make and one for which its reply may bring a glimmer of hope to my life, but at the same time, taint it even more with all the secrets that had been hidden from me.

  “Claire, why did you come here? Why are you telling me all these private details of your life?”

  “You know why,” she hushes out, the gentle gaze in her eyes prevailing over a revelation I’m not ready to face. “I’ve come to help you, Holland. I couldn’t be there for Craig in his time of need, and that broke something precious in me. But maybe, just maybe, my redemption is saving you.”

  “I need you to say it before I lose my nerve. Just say it, Claire.”

  “Addison is your sister.”

  Chapter 15

  Asher

  I’m about to walk in Snow’s hospital room when I quickly pull up short as a familiar, bitchy tone pierces through my eardrums.

  “You don’t look like you’re at death’s door.” I hear Addison tut, her heels click-clacking on the linoleum floor as she takes stock of the girl lying helpless in her bed. A girl who, just days ago, received the ungodly news that Addison Hurst is her sister.

  “Sorry to disappoint you,” Snow replies sarcastically, not giving in to Addison’s unsavory taunt.

  “No, you’re not, but whatever. It makes what I came here to say that much easier.”

  There is a long pause between the two girls, each taking in their similarities, whereas before they didn’t see any. Addison’s tall, hour-glass figure is a blatant contrast to Snow’s athletic build, which is just one example of how polar opposite the two are.

  My Snow showcases a pure, angelic look, from the gentle features of her heart-shaped face and plump, cherry lips, to her white-blonde hair cascading down her back.

  On the other hand, Addison has a perfectly straight, dark, raven hair, and displays a low neckline to draw every hungry eye to her fake breasts, along with a short purple dress that calls attention to her long legs. She looks like Satan choked her out from the fiery pits of hell to tempt every mortal man stupid enough to fall for her evil charms. If the dress and makeup didn’t have a huge price tag allocated to it, she’d look like she was on her way to hit the pole at the local strip joint after this visit.

  No two girls could ever be more different until you look at their eyes—stellar gray clouds running wild in a perfect, silky sky.

  To the untrained eye, you would call them identical, but when you get up-close, you see the difference instantly—one holds hope and love in its genuine essence, while the other only has hate and bitterness.

  My first instinct is to walk right in and interrupt whatever new hell Addison brought. However, it’s Snow’s curious question that holds me to a standstill. “And just what, exactly, did you come all this way for?”

  “All in due time, Holland. First, I want to ask you something.” Addison counters, her voice a little sharper than before. “I know my mother came to see you. I also know why she did it. But what I want to know is if you knew all along. Did you know we were sisters?”

  I hear a long, sorrowful sigh coming from Snow, but no answer.

  “I didn’t think so. You’re a clueless, little thing, aren’t you?” Addison adds after a beat, her tone filled with contempt.

  “Did you?” I hear Snow quip back, side-stepping the obvious animosity her sister has for her.

  “I did.”

  “Really? Did your mother tell you? When did you find out?”

  A forlorn, bitter laugh leaves Addison’s lips, making the air in the room decrease to chilling levels.

  “My mother wasn’t th
e one to tell me a goddamned thing. But even before I was told, I always suspected as much.”

  “You did? Why?”

  The following silence that ensues makes me think Addison isn’t going to explain, but just like her unexpected visit, she confounds me once more.

  “You’ve met my father, haven’t you? The great Senator Hurst. Did he strike you to be a kind or forgiving man?” Addison questions scornfully. “Because he’s not. The senator always treated me like human filth—an eyesore in his perfect life. When I was a child, I thought he hated me because I was such a disappointment to him. I wasn’t the demure, polite daughter he could parade around or the brilliant academic he could brag about to his friends. I couldn’t get good grades no matter how hard I tried, or act like a mindless, docile girl who knew when to shut up and look pretty for his political photo ops,” she explains bitterly, her voice tainted with the resentment she feels for the man who raised her. “But still, I tried. For most of my life, I tried to pretend to be the daughter he wanted me to be. I did everything he asked, just to get a bit of his love and approval. Yet, no matter what I did, I was never the apple of his eye like most little girls are to their fathers.”

  “I’m sorry. That must have been very painful for you,” Snow replies softly, genuinely hurting for the girl who has made her life at Pembroke High one miserable shitshow after another. “Maybe that’s one thing we have in common. I know what it feels like to want a parent’s love and not have it.”

  “Ha! Please! No, you don’t. Don’t act like you know a thing about me or my pain since you’re just one of the many reasons I had to live through it, to begin with.”

  The loud sneer I hear coming from Addison, makes my hands ball into fists. I can’t believe this fucking bitch is Snow’s sister. No matter what sad story she’s laying it on thick for Snow, I know Addison doesn’t have an ounce of my girl’s integrity and heart.

  “I don’t understand,” Snow mumbles, confused by her blustering.

  “Let me clarify, little sister,” Addison adds sinisterly, slanting her eyes at Snow with a disgruntled look. “All my life, I thought something was wrong with me. But then one day, I was told that the reason my father hated me so, was because I was living proof to my mother’s infidelity. It wasn’t my fault the senator hated me. It was my mother’s, for sleeping around with your father. And the worst part of it is that Craig West knew I was his and not the senator’s. He knew how my father would treat me less than because of it, and didn’t care either way. Your father knew and did nothing.”

  “You don’t know that for sure,” Snow chokes out, defending her father from Addison’s disparagement.

  “Yes. I do. Malcolm told me everything,” Addison confesses, taking the air out of Snow’s lungs with the mere mention of my father’s name. “And when I say everything, I mean everything. He even told me about you.”

  “Malcolm Grayson?”

  “Are you hard of hearing, as well as useless? Yes, as I said, Malcolm was the one who told me and made me pay dearly for that piece of classified information when I was sixteen. But I’d do it all over again if it meant I wouldn’t be kept in the dark like some stupid bitch.” She scoffs in Snow’s direction, and continues with her rant, “It might be too much for someone like you to understand, but in my world, knowledge is power. No way was I going to let anyone else know more about my life than I did.”

  She pulls the wheelchair at the corner of the room to Snow’s side and sits on it, bouncing her leg over her knee while her eyes remain locked on my girl’s vacant stare.

  Snow isn’t going to give Addison the satisfaction of showing that her words might have hit the intended mark, slicing at her insides at how someone could hate her for something out of her control. Perhaps the heartbreak I read in my love’s eyes is her active imagination, picturing just what Addison must have done to earn such information from my father.

  “You want to hear something funny? This isn’t even the first time I’ve seen you lying in some hospital bed. No. Last time was when I had decided to confront our dear old dad. I needed to look the rat bastard right in the eye and ask how he could live with himself, leaving his flesh and blood to be raised by such a hateful man as the senator.

  “I wanted to demand answers about how he could discard my existence so easily. But then I got my answer. I followed him one day to Staten Island, and surprise, surprise, I ended up in another hospital room just like this one.

  “You were sound asleep in your bed, as I watched him kiss you on your forehead with a tenderness I would never get from him. There I was, standing at the door, watching this man wanting to be a father to you when he has forsaken me so callously.

  “But that wasn’t the end of my misery. When he got on his knees and prayed—promising to do anything if only you got better, willing to move heaven and earth to be the father you deserved—that’s when I had my miserable epiphany. He didn’t care about me, because he already had you—the perfect daughter. Even feeble, sick, and dependent on others, he still preferred that burden to me.”

  Another long pause takes place as I watch both girls deal with their emotions without wanting to give the other any insight about their feelings.

  I’m not sure if Addison is being real or not, but it feels like she is. She’s never been overly emotional, nor has she ever liked revealing her vulnerabilities to anyone, let alone to a sworn enemy. But beneath all her disdain and hateful stares, there might be an underlying, truthful suffering in there somewhere.

  I’m not sure. However, I’m positive that Snow is hurting. Especially with the little insight into how her father acted when she was unaware. He loved her. Craig West loved his daughter. He had an awful way of showing it, but he did. And that truth bomb, right there, is the culprit behind Snow’s pale form right now.

  “I can’t speak for our father, Addison. I’m not sure of anything at the moment. But if what your mother told me is correct, he didn’t get any say in the matter of being there for you or not. Claire chose her path, and I’m sorry you suffered for it,” Snow rasps, trying hard to keep it together.

  “Oh, my God, are you for real?! What does Rome even see in you? You’re so fucking weak and pathetic,” Addison retorts, despising Snow’s genuine sympathy.

  “Enough, Addison! I understand how raw and unappreciated you must feel, but I’m not going to let you insult me just because you can. There’s the door. Don’t let it hit your ass on the way out.” Snow points in my direction to make her point clear.

  I immediately pull away, and luckily she doesn’t catch me eavesdropping. But Addison doesn’t move an inch and instead bides her time by switching her right leg over to the left one, flipping her black hair away from her shoulders.

  “It’s hard trying to stay clear of your shadow when the whole school is talking about you. Thanks to Chad Murphy, you turned from white trash that shouldn’t even be allowed at Pembroke High, to its resident saint. All because you need a fucking kidney.”

  “I do. What of it?”

  “No luck so far, I gather,” Addison adds with her usually snotty air.

  “I have time.”

  “Do you? From what I’ve been told, you’re at the bottom of a very long waiting list.”

  “As I said, I have time. Why are you really here, Addison? Is it just to get a rise out of me?” Snow interrogates, obviously uncomfortable with Addison’s topic of conversation.

  Another long, pregnant pause ensues, and every time it grows quieter, my anxiety increases by the second for allowing them to keep talking to each other.

  “I know my mother promised you my kidney.”

  “She never promised me anything. Claire simply said that she would talk to you about it. I don’t even know if it’s worth having this conversation since you might not even be a suitable donor.” Snow rolls her eyes.

  “I am,” Addison states plainly.

  “What?” Snow hiccups, incredulous. “How do you know?”


  “I got myself tested after Ollie stormed the Manning’s house, asking your mother for one of hers.” I watch Snow’s lips thin at that statement.

  Despite me telling Ollie it was best for Snow to find out from him that Vivienne is—and will always be—a first-class bitch, he didn’t have the heart to tell Snow her own mother didn’t care if she lived or died.

  Ollie has always been more optimistic than me, but I could have saved him the trip to the Manning’s. I knew damn well Vivienne would tell him to shove it. No way would that conceited bitch undergo surgery to save her daughter. That would mean she cared, which she never did. Not now when Snow needs a mother most, and unfortunately not ever.

  Surprisingly, it’s not Ollie’s visit to the Manning’s penthouse that grabs Snow’s attention. It’s that Addison got tested, and turns out that she’s a suitable donor.

  “Why would you do that? Get tested, I mean.”

  “I was curious.” Addison shrugs.

  “Is that it? You did a bunch of tests just to fulfill some warped curiosity?”

  “Fine, I wasn’t curious. I just wanted to be sure I had some leverage before I made my proposal,” she singsongs.

  All of a sudden, the jagged pieces of the puzzle begin to come together, enlightening us as to where Addison is going with all of this.

  Another long sigh leaves Snow’s lips, and I sense her irritation, even from all the way over here in the hallway.

  “Addison, just tell me once and for all, what do you want. I’m tired of your games.”

  “This isn’t a game. What I want is what I’ve always wanted.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Love,” she spits out, making Snow’s eyes, as well as mine, bug the fuck out of its sockets.

  “You mean between us?” Snow asks with hope, thinking that perhaps Addison is willing to push aside the old resentful feelings to bond with her sister and build some form of relationship.

  However, my girl’s idealism is quickly cut short when Addison reveals her true intentions with her next words. “God, no. You can’t be this stupid, can you? I don’t care about you. I never did,” she mocks as if Snow had a few too many screws loose for her own good.