by Beck, J. L.
“Brett, you’re home,” I tell my brother, who I haven’t been able to hug for two years. Every broken piece of my life seems to be mending itself back together. I can breathe without being weighed down by my rage.
“I am, and I’m so fucking happy to see you, brother!” He exclaims, releasing me and moving out of the doorway so that I can come inside. As soon as I’m in the house, I spot my parents sitting in the huge family area. I’ve never seen either of them smiling so big. Next to them are sitting two men in suits. I remember them from the trial, they were Brett’s lawyers.
“Here is my other son,” Dad gets up from the couch and walks over to me. He slaps a hand onto my shoulder, squeezing it tightly. I’m still a little pissy over the way he treated Willow last night, but I let it pass. I don’t want to ruin Brett’s homecoming.
“I heard you’re the reason I’m out…” Brett snickers, “Dad has only said ten thousand times how proud of you he is.”
Proud of me? “I didn’t do anything,” I mumble, not really. Nate squealing to Willow is what saved Brett. Which reminds me, I need to find that fucker and rearrange his face.
“Oh, stop, Parker, you know if it wasn’t for you and your antics with the youngest Bradford girl, that we wouldn’t have gotten your brother out. Your commitment to making that girl understand her place in our world is what saved him.” He chuckles, his attention drifting to my brother.
I can’t believe my ears. Is he insinuating that I made Nate attack Willow? Before I can think more about it, he continues.
“You should have been at the gala. The dress he put her in. I don’t think there was one person in that banquet hall that didn’t assume she was a whore. Your brother made a complete sideshow out of her. It was glorious, and the look on her father’s face when he saw her was even better.”
“You’re with Willow?” My brother asks, his eyebrows puckering together in confusion. I open my mouth to speak, but what the hell do I tell him. Yes? No? I mean, we aren’t official; I really don’t know what we are at all. I don’t know what the hell is going to happen now, but I don’t think I’ll be able to let her walk away, not after everything that’s happened between us. She’s mine.
“Of course, he’s not with her. He was using her; he wouldn’t make a stupid choice like that.” My father speaks for me, and his words sting against my skin. I was using Willow, and she was using me, but now, now we’re even, or at least I hope we are.
Brett’s eyes darken, and I wait for him to give me the whole treat others the way you want to be treated talk, but he doesn’t say anything else.
“Ashton confessed to having had consensual sex with Brett that day. She told the police that it was Nate who raped and beat her after Brett left. They’re currently looking for him. Are you sure that you don’t want to press charges against her? You have a right, son? Two years of your life lost, for something you didn’t do. The lawyers are still here, it’s not too late.”
The air in my lungs stills. Fuck. I promised Willow nothing would happen to her sister. If Brett presses charges… Damnit. This is all a fucked-up mess. I want to tell Brett not to do anything but would understand completely if he did.
Seconds feel like hours as my parents and I stare up at Brett, waiting for his response.
“Enough has happened already. Ashton has been hurt plenty, and while I was wrongfully accused, I’m free now, and that’s all that matters.”
I damn near sag to the floor with relief. It never bothered me before, the thought of hurting Willow. It was a thrill, a funny little game, but now it’s like her heart is an extension of my own, her feelings are mine. If something hurts her, it hurts me.
Dad grits his teeth, his eyes bleeding into Brett’s. I can see how pissed off he is over his choice. He wants to bring the Bradfords down, and that means Willow too. Would I be able to stand by and watch them do that?
“Whatever you want, son,” our father tsks, but something tells me, it will never be whatever we want. It never has been whatever we want, and now that Brett is free, I’ll be forced to make a decision. I have to choose between Willow and my father.
The question is. Do I want Willow for more than revenge?
19
Willow
The room still smells like Parker, even hours after he’s left. Or maybe his scent is just permanently ingrained into my mind now. I don’t know. What I do know is that having his smell around me soothes the ache surging throughout my chest.
I can’t believe the last twenty-four hours are real.
Everything seems like a dream, a nightmare really. I’m still trying to make sense of it all, to line up the puzzle pieces in my head. Ashton swore it was Brett, she looked me straight in the eyes and swore to me. Had I known it wasn’t him…
Guilt eats away at my insides, and that sick feeling I’ve had all day intensifies.
She’s never lied to me. Truth is, when we were little, every time she tried to lie to me, I knew. She’s a terrible liar. The worst, so how did I not see it, that time? And why lie in the first place? She could have told me. It wouldn’t have changed anything at all. I wasn’t the enemy in all of this, and I’m still not.
Holding my head in my hands, I try to calm myself down. It feels like the room is spinning all around me.
Since the moment Parker left, I’ve been trying to call her at the facility, since Alice didn’t pick up, but each time I call, they tell me she can’t come to the phone right now. And as much as I hate our father, I even resorted to calling him, but strangely, my calls have been going straight to voicemail.
What the hell is going on?
Not knowing what is happening and being forced to sit and wait is killing me. Almost as much as the thought of what I have done. I helped put an innocent man in prison. Two years of his life are gone, and I am partially to blame for that. I don’t know how to deal with it. And even worse, I am in a somewhat relationship with his brother. At least, I think I am. I don’t know what Parker and I are, but we are certainly something.
God, could this get any more complicated. All this time, he was right, he was right about his brother, and I really was a liar. I feel compelled to apologize, to beg for forgiveness. I did this. I was an accomplice. Why did Ashton lie? Why did she tell me it was Brett when it was Nate?
Having all these questions, without a single answer in sight, is making it hard for me to function. The hours pass slowly. All night, I sit in my room, every little sound terrifying me. I wonder if Nate is going to come back. If something bad is going to happen to me? Sleep doesn’t come, and I don’t hear from Parker, or my father, or Ashton, which only makes me worry more.
After a long while, I curl up into a ball and cry until there isn’t a single tear left to cry. I cry for my sister mainly, and for Brett, and for Parker and me because had Ashton not lied things, might have been different between us.
I finally fall asleep but come awake not long after, when my phone starts to ring somewhere in the sheets. It could be my father or Ashton. Panicked, I feel around the bed until my fingers find the phone. I don’t know why, but seeing my father’s name flash across the screen makes me feel like something terrible is going to happen or already has. No. Answer the phone, I tell myself. Shoving the feelings away, I hit the green answer key and bring the phone to my ear.
“Dad, is everything okay? I’ve been calling you all night.” The words rush past my lips.
“Willow, I… I don’t know how to say this…” The dread in his voice, it clings to me through the speaker. My father hasn’t sounded this way since the night of my mother’s passing, so why… falling down on me like acid rain, I gasp into the phone.
“What happened? Is Ashton okay? Please, tell me she is okay? Did they press charges?” Every worry known to mankind pops into my head. All I want to know is that she’s okay and that I can talk to her. Please, god, let her be okay.
“Willow, Ashton is dead.” I can hear the words he’s saying, but I don’t comprehend them. It’s li
ke my brain is refusing to compute.
“What?” I whisper.
“She committed suicide last night. She left a note, but I’m not sure you need to read it right now. I’m in the process of making funeral arrangements. I’ll call you when it’s time for the funeral.” He… I don’t understand. What happened? Committed suicide? How? Why? She was in a facility being monitored by nurses and doctors? How did she kill herself?
“I… I don’t understand…” A coldness sweeps through my bones, and inside my chest, I can feel my heart cracking. Every beat breaking it a little bit more.
“She’s dead, Willow. She is gone, and she’s not coming back. I know it’s hard in the beginning, but this isn’t our first time losing a family member, so I expect us to bounce back from this with ease. We will do the funeral and then carry on with our lives.”
The phone slips out of my hand and lands on the floor with a crack. I don’t move to pick it up, I don’t move at all. I just stand there trying to make sense of the words I just heard. Dead. Suicide. Ashton. Gone. They’re all just words, but the meaning behind them is so powerful and soul-crushing they might as well be grenades. Inside my chest, my heart cracks.
The sound is loud and makes it hard for me to breathe.
Ashton is gone… my sister is dead.
My sister is dead and I… I can’t bring her back. I can’t fix this. Everything I did was for nothing. In the end, I didn’t protect her. I fed her right to the monsters. I’ll never forgive myself, never.
* * *
Three days have passed… or maybe four? The days pass in a blur when you don’t eat and sleep like a normal person. I’m in some hotel a few towns over from Blackthorn. I couldn’t bear seeing or talking to anyone, so I’m hiding out here like the coward I am. I don’t know what I’m going to do anymore, but I do know I can’t go back there right now.
It took me a few hours to really understand when my father told me about Ashton’s death. It took me even longer to grasp what he said after that… this isn’t our first time losing a family member, so I expect us to bounce back from this with ease.
My father is a psychopath, that’s the only explanation for his actions and words. Who is so composed and unaffected by death, by losing their child?
I thought about calling Parker more than once, but I always chickened out. I don’t know where we stand after all of this, but I’m too scared to find out right now, too fragile to face him. I checked my phone yesterday right before it went dead. He texted and called a few times, but I ignored them all. Now I’m kind of regretting that I had.
My dad has sent me only one text message, and that was two days ago. He was letting me know when and where the funeral is going to be. Aside from that, he hasn’t cared to contact me to see if I’m okay.
Because of this, I hate him a little more than I did before. Scratch that, a lot more, more than I ever thought was possible. I don’t see myself ever having a relationship with that man again. If I never see or hear from him again, I’ll be a happier person.
The games, the terror, the fear, the fact that someone died… My eyes fill with tears for the millionth time. I can’t think about this now. Not ever.
The days have ticked by one right after the other, and I’ve counted them down with dread. I know Ashton’s service is tomorrow, but I don’t know if I can bring myself to go. I’d much rather say my goodbyes on my own, and not with a hundred people who didn’t care about her, standing in the room.
I feel so guilty, the shit with Brett, and now my sister’s death. It all lingers over my head, seconds away from crashing down on me. I feel like I’m in one of those old Road Runner cartoons, a large anvil looming over me, ready to squish me like a bug.
My stomach growls, reminding me that I haven’t eaten anything in… way too long. I don’t even remember. I uncurl myself from the fetal position, which I’ve been in for the better part of today. Sitting up, I stretch my aching limbs. Realizing how dry my mouth is, I reach for the water on the nightstand, only to realize it’s empty. Eventually, I’m going to have to piece myself back together again, but that day isn’t going to be today.
I’m reaching for the phone to call room service when a loud knock sounds against the door. My finger grazes the phone. Wait, did I already call and order room service? Or are they just checking on me to make sure I’m not dead yet? Stunted like a deer caught in the headlights of a moving vehicle, I sit there, my eyes on the door.
The knock comes again, this time a little harder than before, and that noise is enough to get me to snap out of it. Slowly crawling out of bed, I walk toward the door. I’m a few feet away when I hear his voice.
“Open the damn door, Willow, or I will kick it in. You might be able to hide from everyone else, but you can’t hide from me.”
In an instant, I’m grabbing the door handle, my heart lunging in my chest, thumping so hard it almost hurts. He came for me. I don’t know why, but that brings me a tiny bit of joy. I shouldn’t be happy about seeing him. He doesn’t deserve me, but more so, I don’t deserve him, or anyone else. But I can’t help but hold on to that tiny bit of glee, the happiness it brings me, that he is here.
Unlocking the deadbolt, I pull the door open to find Parker standing on the other side of it. One arm propped up on the door frame as if he’s been waiting for me to open up for hours instead of seconds. Drinking in his perfect face, I don’t know if I want to slap or hug him. The scowl he gives me is one I’ve seen many times before.
“Why aren’t you answering your phone?” Looking me up and down, his blatant anger melts into concern. The struggle in his eyes tells me he wants to take me into his arms, but something is stopping him. Probably the way I look right now. “You look terrible,” he mumbles as if he could read my mind.
“I feel like shit too.”
“I’m sorry about your sister,” he winces, genuine empathy in his tone. “Do you mind if we come in?”
We?
Without waiting for my answer, he drops his arm and walks into the room. I’m flabbergasted by his presence, and even more by the intense tone of his voice. I mentally prepare myself to respond to him when a shadow appears in the doorway. Something tightens in my chest when my eyes land on Brett’s dark ones.
“Hello, Willow,” he greets, and steps over the threshold.
“Hi,” I whisper, my lips trembling.
“I’m sorry about Ashton.” He frowns, and I nod. I’m not ready to have this conversation, where everyone apologizes and says sorry for your loss. I’d rather they never have to say anything. I’d rather my sister be alive. Too bad, we don’t always get what we want.
Closing the door, I walk back inside and sit on the bed. Parker comes to sit beside me while Brett remains standing, his hands shoved into the front pockets of his jeans. I stare down at my joined hands that rest in my lap. I need to apologize, at least try and make things right.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur, looking up at Brett.
“It’s okay, you didn’t know any better. You were trying to help your sister. I don’t blame you at all.” The sincerity in his voice hits me hard. Like a bus running me over.
“Truthfully, Brett, I’m sorry. I didn’t… If I had known, I wouldn’t...” Tears fill my eyes, and the guilt is overwhelming, suffocating me. I did this to him. I took two years of his life away.
Parker’s hand comes to rest against mine, the warmth of his touch pulls me from my thoughts, and I direct my attention to him. He’s never been so kind and tender before. For a moment, I allow myself to think about what’s going to happen in the future. Is there room for Parker and me in this crazy world?
“The funeral is tomorrow. Are you not going to go?” Brett asks.
“I’m not sure. I don’t want to stand in a room with a bunch of people weeping over her. People who didn’t know or care about her.”
He nods and looks down at the floor, his face expressionless. Before everything happened, I thought he and Ashton might get married. Our father
was all about that relationship, of course. He was ready to marry his daughter into the Rothschild empire after the first date. Despite my father being pushy, I thought they had something real going on. I don’t know, and I guess I never will now, but I really did think that they loved each other.
“How did you find me?”
“I asked your dad. He checked where you used your credit card last, and it was this hotel,” his words make me happy and sad at the same time. Parker cared enough to find me here, cared enough to go to my father. But the fact that my dad knows where I am and can’t bring himself to come by or even call me… a shudder ripples down my spine.
“I know this must be hard for you, but you need to come back to Blackthorn, you already missed a bunch of classes.” Parker’s voice holds authority, his face morphing into a little bit of the old Parker, and I can’t help but wonder if he would be this way if we were alone right now. What he is not understanding is that he doesn’t have that kind of hold on me anymore.
Shaking my head, I tell him, “No, I’m not coming back.”
That must strike a nerve because his grip on my hand turns painful, “Don’t be stupid, of course, you are.”
I don’t even wince. All I do is frown because that’s the only thing I can seem to get my lips to do. “The only reason I attended that school was so my dad would pay for Ashton to stay in a better rehab facility. He told me I needed to befriend people and get invited to functions so he could have access to his old business partners again. That is the one and only reason I agreed to go. Now that, that reason is gone...” I trail off, on the verge of crying again.
“What about me?”
A lump forms in my throat. “I was a means to an end for you. We’re even now.” The words hurt me as much to say as I know they hurt him to hear.
That perfect jawline of his flexes, “We aren’t even, not even close.”