The Bayshore Rivals: The Entier Series

by Cassandra Hallman

  Sullivan looks like he’s about to say something, but I’m done. I’m not waiting around to hear what it is he has to say. Some lame-ass apology that means nothing. Because I mean nothing to him. To them. I’m so done. Done with the lies. Done with the games. Done with him and his brothers, his family, all of it. Just done!

  “Have a nice life,” I murmur on the way out of his bedroom door. Tears escape my eyes as I run through the house.

  “Wait,” I hear Sullivan call from upstairs just before I slam the front door behind me.

  How could I have been so stupid? I gave myself to him. I loved him, I loved all three of them and all they did was play games. I’m nothing more than a pawn to him and his brothers.

  I run down the sidewalk, my shoes pounding on the pavement, and the tears running down my face uncontrollably. Pushing my legs as far as I can, I only slow when I become lightheaded. Needing to catch my breath after running through the neighborhood for I don’t know how long. My chest aches, my lungs burn, and a killer headache has formed right behind my eyes.

  I stop and look around, taking in my surroundings, and I realize that I have no idea where I am. Reaching into my back pocket I pull out my phone and find the contact info for the only person I can think of right now.

  Caroline answers after the third ring. “Harlow, what’s up?” Her voice is cheery, as usual. Completely oblivious to my despair.

  “Caroline,” I sigh with relief, “can you come and pick me up?”

  “Of course, are you okay?” She loses her cheery tone, concern replacing it.

  “Yes, no, god, I don’t know. I’m at…” I look around me, trying to find a street sign. “McKinley Road,” I say when I finally find one.

  “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  Ending the call, I sit down on the curb and let my head fall into my hands. I vow to myself never to be dumb enough to fall for their tricks or antics again. By the time Caroline’s car pulls up, there must be a puddle of tears in front of me, because I haven't stopped crying since I got off the phone with her. She jumps out of the car and runs around to where I’m sitting.

  “Oh my god, what happened?” She kneels down next to me, her arms circle around me. “Please, tell me. What’s wrong?”

  “It was all a lie… Sullivan and his brothers played me,” I say in between sobs. “I loved them and…”

  “Oh, Harlow, I’m so fucking sorry. Come on, girl, let’s get you home.”

  “No, I don’t want to go home. I need to talk to Shelby. Can you take me to the gallery downtown?”

  I need to apologize to my friend, she warned me about the Bishops, and I didn’t listen. She’s been the only constant in my life, the only one who always stood by me. She is the only one I can trust, and I’ve been neglecting her. I need her, now more than ever.

  “Of course, come on,” she ushers me into the passenger seat, and even buckles me up when I don’t move to do so myself.

  “Are you going to tell me what happened?” Caroline asks half way through town.

  “I…I don’t even know. Everything was fine one minute and then it wasn’t.” Which is the truth. One minute it was pure bliss and the next, utter horror.

  She doesn’t ask me any more questions and I’m more than grateful for the silence. I don’t think I could answer anymore of her questions anyway.

  “Thank you, Caroline,” I gaze over at her once we’ve stopped in front of the art gallery. “I mean it, thank you. You’ve been a great friend.”

  “Any time, Harlow. Call me if you need anything.” We hug before I exit the car. My face is still red, and my eyes are still swollen from crying but I’m past being self-conscious.

  Taking a deep breath, I push the gallery’s doors open, a bell rings above my head and I walk into the clean space. Modern looking sculptures are sitting on hip high pedestals in the center of the space and pictures of all sizes are decorating every wall in the room.

  A petite woman walks into the showroom greeting me with a wide smile. She is wearing a skin tight pencil skirt, a matching crop top, and four-inch high heels that look like they could break some ankles.

  “Hi, can I help you?”

  “Yeah, I’m looking for Shelby. I’m sorry to show up here, I know she is working but this is kind of an emergency.”

  “Who?” The woman looks genuinely confused, her eyebrows drawing together.

  “Shelby,” I say louder, she must have not heard me clearly.

  “Doesn't ring a bell. Is she one of our artists?”

  “Oh…ah, maybe… maybe, I’m at the wrong gallery, I’m sorry,” I say embarrassed, before turning on my heels.

  “This is the only gallery in town, miss.”

  I freeze with my hand hovering inches away from the doorknob. My mind goes blank and then this feeling of utter dread creeps its way up my spine and settles into the base of my skull.

  Nothing makes sense, everything I thought I knew is wrong. My life built with building blocks of lies and deceit and like a Jenga tower someone pulled the one piece that has it all crashing down.

  I feel like I’m trapped in this moment, my mind frozen in time. My thoughts hovering somewhere in between disbelief and unbelievable despair.

  “Are you okay, miss?”

  No… no, I’m not okay and I don’t know if I ever will be.

  I walk back outside and down the sidewalk. I know there are people walking down the side of the road like me, cars driving on the road, I know they are there, but I don’t see them clearly. Everything around me is a blur. My mind overwhelmed with everything that has happened today.

  My body’s numb, my emotions in disarray. I feel like I’m not even here, like I’m only a shadow of myself, a ghost who isn’t part of the world at all.

  Putting one foot in front of the other, at least I think that’s what I’m doing. I look up, the scenery changing around me, the ground beneath me suddenly seems different. Sounds piercing through the fog surrounding my brain. Someone is screaming, but I can’t make out what is being said. Then something catches my eye. I look up to see two bright lights heading straight for me. But I’m not fast enough, there is no time…

  Darkness.

  Nothing but darkness.

  I’m not sure where I am. But wherever it is all I know is darkness. This place has no end, no beginning, no up, down, right or wrong.

  There is no love or hate, no pain, but also no happiness.

  I try to remember how I got here, or where I’m from but my mind is nothing but a wasteland.

  All I am and all I know is darkness.

  Until one day, when there was more.

  Beep.

  Beep.

  Beep.

  A steady rhythm calling me from somewhere unknown. The sound seems close and a million miles away all at once. For a long time, that’s all there is.

  “It’s been ten days,” a woman’s voice suddenly breaks through.

  “Mrs. Lockwood, these things take time. Harlow suffered a major brain injury. It will take time for her to recover. I can assure you that she is in the very best hands here at the clinic.”

  “She better be, considering what we are paying you,” another man’s voices meets my ears. It’s deep, scary even and I make a mental note not to mess with that man.

  After that, I hear the opening and closing of a door, followed by chairs moving around.

  “You heard the man, love, let’s go home, there is nothing we can do for her right now.”

  Suddenly, I have the overwhelming urge to open my eyes, I want them to see that I’m here, that I’m awake. I don’t want to be left alone in the darkness again. Willing my eyes to open, it takes every ounce of strength I have. I feel like my eyelids have turned into lead and my strength has diminished to one percent.

  Still, by some miracle my eyes slowly blink open. The bright yellow light coming from the ceiling overhead blinding me momentarily, but I keep squinting and blinking until I can make out the room and its contents.


  “Oh my God! She’s waking up!” The woman’s high pitch voice hurts my ears a little but her hands covering mine are soft and warm and make up for the pain. “Oh, Harlow, you’re okay. Everything is going to be fine now, I promise.”

  I blink, confused, then I look down at her hand and pull mine out of her grasp.

  I look up into her big tear-filled blue eyes, horror, and shock reflect back at me and I ask the only question that I can, “Who are you?”

  Book Two

  Prologue

  Sullivan

  I spend all night letting yesterday's events run through my mind. Fuck, how could I have been so stupid? The moment I saw the red smudges on the insides of her thighs, my heart fell into my stomach, and I knew she wasn’t lying. I still don’t understand how I didn’t see it before. How could I have been so blind? What we had was real and I used her. I broke her.

  I could see it in her beautiful blue eyes, the moment her heart cracked and shattered into a million pieces. The light inside them dimmed and all because of me. Fuck, my gut hurts just thinking about it. I wish I could forget, but I won’t.

  We could have been happy, but it doesn’t matter now, it’s too late. Nothing I say will undo what’s already been done. The only thing left to do now is figure out why our parents would have told us these lies about Harlow.

  After hiding out in my room for most of the day, I walk downstairs to get something to eat, hoping Oliver and Banks are gone. I don’t know if I can handle more of their hate right now. We agreed on not going through with our plan and I did it anyway. They believed her and I didn’t. They were right and I was wrong, so terribly wrong. I let everyone down, because I believed lies, so many fucking lies.

  When I walk into the kitchen, I almost turn around. They are both there, sitting at the kitchen table, talking about getting a new car.

  They stop talking when I enter. I’m immediately met with hardened glares. I open the fridge to grab some sandwich meat and a pack of cheese. Turning around, I find both Oliver and Banks looking down at their phones, apparently, they’re ignoring me now. I have half a mind to start telling them I'm sorry again, but I don’t, it won't do me any good anyway.

  Instead, I continue putting my sandwich together as quickly as I can to escape the suffocating tension in the room. I need to get back to my room so I can wallow in my own misery. With my sandwich made I start to put everything back into the fridge, the buzzing of my cell in my pocket interrupting me.

  I fish it out, hoping the entire time that maybe, just maybe, it’s Harlow. My clammy hands nearly have me dropping it as I swipe the screen to unlock it, disappointment striking me through the heart like an arrow.

  Tension coils in my gut. It’s just Marc, one of the guys from school.

  I’m about to shove the device back in my pocket without looking at the message when Oliver turns to me, his face a mask of horror, “Oh, my God, did you get Marc’s message?” The tone of Oliver’s voice tells me instantly that whatever Marc sent him is serious, so I do the only thing I can. I open the message.

  Inside the message is a link, which I click on, which leads me to a newspaper article from the Bayshore newspaper. First, I’m confused, but then I start to read the headline and my heart sinks into my stomach.

  Bayshore student left in critical condition after hit and run.

  I don’t know why, or how, but I know without a doubt the student they’re talking about is Harlow. Call it a gut feeling or whatever you will, but I know. Still I continue reading, my eyes unable to move fast enough.

  A young woman, who reportedly is attending Bayshore University, was struck by a car downtown, near the art gallery, witnesses say. The car then fled the scene and the woman was rushed to the hospital. The incident is still under investigation…

  Unable to read another word, I turn off my phone and place it down on the marble counter, before sagging against it.

  I did this… this is all my fault.

  “It’s her, I know it’s her,” I say, more to myself than to my brothers. When I look up, Oliver is staring at me, there’s a feral look in his eyes, one that I’ve never seen directed at me before and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hate myself in that moment.

  “If she dies, then you might as well be dead too.” The anger and hurt in his voice chills me to the bone.

  “You know I didn’t intend for any of this to happen.”

  Oliver shakes his head, before getting up, the sound of his chair scraping across the floor. Banks doesn’t even look at me, obviously, disgusted beyond belief. Oliver walks over stopping on the other side of the island. His hands are clenched into tight fists at his sides and I wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to slug me right now.

  It’s not like I don’t deserve it.

  “It doesn’t matter if you intended for it to happen, it did, and the consequences are resting on your shoulders now. I just want you to know that if she dies, it will be partially your fault. If you would have believed her, she would be with us right now… safe. She didn’t deserve what you did to her.” His voice trembles, his gaze hardening, and I nod acknowledging his words, because like always, he’s right.

  He was right when he said we shouldn’t do it. He was right when he said Harlow was more important than any family rivalry.

  I should’ve listened to him. I should’ve followed my heart, but I didn’t, and now the one person who shouldn’t have paid the price, has. But I’m a Bishop, and above all, a man, so I’ll do what I need to do to make things right.

  Harlow Lockwood will be ours again, and this family rivalry ends now.

  16

  Harlow

  One Month Later

  Staring down at the pale blue comforter, I try and piece the jigsaw puzzle called my life back together again, but every time I start to think about it, about anything, nothing pops up. It’s been three days since I was released from the hospital. I’ve been living in this huge house that is supposed to be my home… but it just doesn’t feel like it.

  There are no memories; happy or sad, there is nothing—a dark, endless sea of blank space. It’s so strange to think that one day you are whole, your life full and vibrant, and the next you’re merely a shell of what you used to be. A soft knock sounds against my bedroom door, and I look up, knowing it’s the woman that calls herself my mother.

  “I know this is a lot for you to take in and all, but your father wanted me to let you know that Matt, your fiancé will be stopping by tomorrow. Your appearance while he is here is very much appreciated.”

  I will my mouth to work, for words to come out, but they just won’t. Every day since I got home, either my mother or my father have been with me, trying to make me remember a life they say I enjoyed. Though deep down in my gut, none of it feels right; this huge house, the expensive dresses, and maids to do whatever I want. It doesn’t seem like something I would’ve liked, let alone enjoyed.

  In fact, this place feels like a prison, but I don’t understand why. I’m sure any girl my age would enjoy having the world at her fingertips, which clearly, I had, and still do, so why does it feel like none of those things mattered to me.

  “Harlow!” my mother barks, and I blink from the blank space in my mind.

  “Yes. I’ll be here.” I tell her softly, unsure of how I should respond, how I would’ve responded before. Am I being myself? I don’t know. It occurs to me then, where else would I be? I have nowhere to go, no friends, besides Shelby, who came to visit a few times, but was of no help. A fiancé that I don’t remember, and haven’t met, because he’s not been in the country until now.

  My mother’s icy gaze softens, “You’ve been in your room almost all day, maybe you could come downstairs and have dinner with us? I had Margaret make your favorite; baked spaghetti.” Baked spaghetti? Hmm, it wouldn’t hurt to see if eating this so-called favorite meal of mine jarred a memory.

  “Sure, I would like that,” I tell her, as I climb off the four-poster bed, and pad across the floor. She smile
s at me, but the smile doesn’t reach her eyes and looks forced, awkward even, as if it’s not something she often does.

  Silently we walk down the hall, and then down the grand staircase before entering the dining room. There’s a chandelier that hangs above the table, giving the room an elegant feel. My father is already sitting at the table and gives us a tense smile when we enter.

  “It’s very nice of you to join us for dinner, Harlow. Have any of your memories returned?” he asks, almost in a robotic way. I pull out the chair next to him, and sag down into the seat, though I would much rather have taken a seat at the far end of the table.

  Margaret, as well as another maid, brings out dinner, placing plates down in front of us like it’s a restaurant, and we’re not capable of making our own plates.

  “So, what did I do for fun? Did I go anywhere? Hangout with anyone?” I blurt out, causing both of my parents to look up at me like I just asked them to solve a math problem. “The doctor said I’m supposed to do things I did before to jog my memory, but I don’t exactly know what that was, and I’ve been kind of bored. So, what did I do?”

  Dad places his silverware back down on the table, glancing over at my mother before turning back to me, “Ah well… you liked to go shopping, and hang out with Shelby. You and Matt used to go out on dates, but once he went to France to run the French branch of his father’s company, you talked on the phone a lot.”