by Cassie James
The same stilted silence returns as everyone settles into seats around the room, Stan choosing a loveseat on one side of a gleaming black coffee table, with me and the guys all shoved onto the couch across from him. Anne and Roman choose arm chairs closer to the opposite ends of the table, and I can’t shake the thought that with the serious looks on everyone’s faces, we rather look like we’re settling in for a war council. Anne commands all the attention in the room when she sets her briefcase on the table and clears her throat loudly.
“There’s no need to sugarcoat why we’re here today,” she says with a certain note of finality in her voice. Her eyes drift around the room slowly, taking in the gazes of each and every person staring back at her. I wrap my arms around my stomach, leaning forward until the pressure against my middle is almost too much to breathe. Hands drop to my back and knee comfortingly, but I don’t stop holding my breath until she speaks again. “I’ve already drawn up the paperwork necessary to officially and legally terminate the contract.”
“And I’ve already agreed to sign it, willingly terminating the contract,” Roman butts in quickly. My mouth drops open in shock as my head jerks in his direction. Remorse mars his face, accentuating the deep lines setting in around his eyes and mouth, and my stomach twists as he stares at me. “I just… There’s no reason to take this to court, not when what’s best for you and what’s best for Jackie is to just let this whole thing go. In theory, it was a nice idea, but it didn’t work out. It’s not fair to any of us to keep trying to force it.”
Brennan’s hand tightens around my knee, and I’m fucking positive I’ve actually forgotten how to breathe. “W-what?” I manage to stammer as my mind struggles to process his frenzied words. Surely I had misheard him. My head whips in Stan’s direction before I finally fix my gaze on Anne. My heart pounds in a chaotic frenzy when she sends a small wink in my direction, and I realize now what she’d been doing with Roman at the front of the house when we’d pulled up. “You’re serious?”
“Yes, full ownerships and rights will be restored to Stan immediately,” Anne reassures me. My head falls into my hands as I struggle to control my breathing. I’m shaking like a leaf, and I’m not even sure whether it’s from excitement or the jittery feeling of relief slamming into me. This doesn’t feel real, but if it’s a dream, I never want to wake up. “Roman has agreed to send a list of personal belongings he and Jackie are willing to let you take, and you will have the opportunity to return to the Hawthornes’ residence one last time in order to gather those things. Stan, I assume you have no issues with this?”
“I’ll want to read that contract,” he says blithely, and I almost laugh, but only almost. Instead, I peek between my fingers to see him staring at me with an odd sort of curiosity in his eyes. “But of course I have no issues—whatever’s best for Piper is what we’ll do.”
An alarming thought strikes me, and I sit up straight, my hands falling back into my lap as my stomach twists painfully. “What about my programming—I… You’re not going to reset me are you?”
Stan’s eyes narrow for the briefest of seconds before he seems to catch on to what I’m asking him. I glance in Roman’s direction to see his eyebrows snaking toward his hairline as his eyes widen, the sudden implication that he’s setting free a hyper-intelligent AI with his daughter’s personality and memories built within her, seems to strike him for the first time. I chew my lip before Stan answers, feeling like an idiot for blurting the insecurity out when it might never have been an issue in the first place.
“The new contract only serves to break the length of the previous contract, Piper,” Anne starts softly. When I turn to face her, I can practically see the wheels turning in her mind. I’m on pins and needles as I wait for her to speak again. “I can’t remember the words verbatim from the top of my head, but there’s absolutely a clause in the original agreement that even though your programming is based on Piper Hawthorne’s personality and basic memories, it’s still programming that—from a proprietary standpoint—belongs to Stan. Legally, he’s not required to rewrite your programming if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Not required to rewrite your programming. She makes it sound so cold, but I can’t help but revel in the final rush of relief that seeps through me when I realize that this nightmare is finally, truly over. I collapse against the back of the couch, trapping Tyler’s hand behind my back as my body sags tiredly. Tyler tugs his arm out from behind me just to wrap me in a tight hug, and I catch Jude’s eye over his shoulder. He’s smirking at me, just like always, but there’s something softer there, too, and I can’t help but feel that I owe him more than he really knows.
Appreciation surges through me for every single person sitting in this room. These are the people who believed in my ability to be more than I was created to be, the people who have loved me or supported me or fought for me, and my heart’s so full that it’s almost heavy.
It’s over. It’s really over.
28
Piper
Roman sends the list of possessions he and Jackie are willing to part with after only a few hours. My hands shake around the print out Stan hands me, and my heart slams against my ribcage as I read. It’s all superficial stuff, my laptop and phone, some of my clothes and accessories, things that I’d purchased and collected since my awakening in August, and my school uniforms to get me through my last couple of weeks at Rosewood before graduation. My heart sinks at the realization that I won’t be able to take any of the pictures I’d so diligently sorted once upon a time, but I try to remind myself that they need those pictures much more than me. And at the very least, I’ll still have my memories of those things.
Stan urges the guys to go home, to get cleaned up and calmed down, finally laying down the law that he’d be the one escorting me to the Hawthornes’ after Tyler and Jude made a huge fuss about it. It’s a testament to everyone’s giddy feelings of relief that they let it go so easily, agreeing to leave for a few hours, but reassuring me in earnest that they’d come back over tonight to help me get settled once I got back in my new home. It’s strange thinking of the Malibu mansion as my new home, but my heart settles at the sight of the ocean glinting in the distance as I shoo the The Thorns back toward Jude’s car.
Jude catches me around the waist, pulling me to a stop a few feet behind his car as Tyler and Brennan climb into it. “This is good—this is what we wanted,” he says before pulling me closer, his lips brushing over mine with a softness I wouldn’t typically expect from him. I’m not sure who he’s reassuring, whether it’s me or him, but I’m content to let him hold me close and kiss me gently since it’s so different from what he normally gives me.
I pull back from him, but not so far that our lips don’t still brush together when I say, “I know—thank you. For everything.”
He pulls me close again, dipping my head to claim my mouth with fervor until a throat clears raggedly behind us and we pull apart. My face flares with a hot blush, and Jude smirks at me before nodding at Stan and turning back toward his car. “I’ll see you later, Piper,” he calls over his shoulder, and I hope like hell that hugely overdone wink he throws my way is something that Stan does not see.
The sound of a garage door raising pulls my attention back toward where Stan’s standing off toward the side of the house. He waves his hand toward the sleek white Tesla purring to life in the garage, and I glance over my shoulder at Jude’s SUV sliding past the gate and leaving me resolutely alone with a man I’m only just realizing I don’t actually know all that well. I square my shoulders and turn in the direction of the car. I’m getting what I asked for, and I don’t have time to question it now.
Pulling into the drive at the Hawthornes’ house is bittersweet. My heart thuds almost painfully in my chest as we climb from Stan’s car, as quiet now as we were on the drive over, and my legs tremble as we walk toward the bright yellow front door. It’s fucking bizarre reaching out to press the doorbell rather than just pushing my way thr
ough.
Roman is wearing a tight frown when he answers the door. My stomach jumps, but there’s no sign of the woman I’m terrified to see again. The house is silent, too, when we enter. I glance around, still worried Jackie is waiting somewhere to ambush me. I run sweating palms down the front of my jeans and try to shove the irrational thoughts away.
The first thing I notice are a few boxes sitting off to the side, and I chew my lip before glancing back toward Roman. He shoves his hands in his pockets, lips pressing into a thin line as we stare at each other quietly. It’s awkward, and everything inside of me hurts. Long forgotten programming springs to life within me, and I have to fight the urge to wrap my arms around him, say I’m sorry, and try to take some of the hurt away that I’d helped cause.
All they’d wanted was a second chance with their daughter, and even though I know I never would have been enough, it doesn’t stop the sting of the hurt that rests in my chest. And as I stand there staring at those few boxes in silence, it doesn’t feel like quite enough. Piper Hawthorne might have been the worst type of person, but she was theirs. And despite everything, I know how deeply they loved her. An ache builds in my heart, and my stomach turns leaden at the thought of how badly I’d failed them.
I swallow around the thick knot in my throat, wrapping my arms around my middle to keep myself from giving into the urge to give him a hug and tell him I’m so fucking sorry for everything he’d lost. Instead I blink hard to clear the blurriness from my eyes. I’m not sure how I manage it, but my voice is steady as I ask, “Is it okay if I go to my—” I cut off as he takes a sharp breath, and I feel the blanch that crosses my face seconds before he does the same. “Can I go to her room one last time? I won’t take anything else, I just…”
I trail off, waving my arm between us pitifully because I’m not sure that it’s entirely fair that I’m asking for a chance to say goodbye, but he nods, and I take off toward the stairs before he has the good sense to change his mind. The sound of my footsteps echo through the empty hallway, and my heart pounds erratically in my chest as I creep closer and closer to the room that was never really mine to start with. I bite my lip hard, hoping the sting of the pain will distract me from the tears that are threatening to spill. It shouldn’t be this hard to do this, not when I’d felt like being here was more like a prison sentence than anything else.
When I push the door open, I’m struck with an odd sort of familiarity with the room, even though it’s neater than I’d ever managed to keep it. The bed’s made meticulously, the top of the vanity’s been cleaned, and all of the cords that always seemed to be trailing out from under my bed are curiously absent. Everything’s in perfect order—the photos pinned to the corkboard above the desk, and even the picture of Piper is back on the bedside table like it was after each time I’d awoken. My breath catches in my throat as I pad across the room toward the desk.
My fingers brush over the pictures. It doesn’t really surprise me to find that the one’s I’d added—the evidence of my existence—are all gone, but it doesn’t make the sting of my easy erasure any less difficult to handle. My breath hitches in my throat over a picture of her with The Thorns and The Roses in Homecoming attire, smiling at the camera in her smirking sort of way. I pull that picture, as well as one from the Hawthornes’ last family trip to Santorini, from the board and carry it with me toward the vanity, where I sink down on the tufted chair with a heavy sigh.
I stare at the girl in the picture, smiling like she knew something the rest of the world didn’t, and I try to tap into those parts of me that are her, but they’re buried so far down now that I struggle to pull them to the surface. I trace my finger over her face, and despite the fact that I know there were very ugly parts to her, I find myself mourning her for the first time. It could’ve been anyone, yet it was her—and if it weren’t for her grieving mother and hurting father, would I even really exist? There had to be something there other than the dark ugliness I’d come to associate with her, why else would people care about her the way they had—so intensely that they’d shunned me for months at first.
I sigh as I stare at the picture of her with her parents. Ugliness has the ability to exist within everyone, but that doesn’t make them inherently bad or evil. My eyes catch on Jackie’s smile, and my lips pull down into a deep frown. Even Jackie Hawthorne was twisted by her grief over a daughter she’d deeply loved. I know after everything she put me through that I should still be mad, that I shouldn’t feel bad for her, but I do, and I know it’s more than just my programming.
“I know you don’t understand…” her voice trails off softly as I jerk violently at the unexpected noise. I turn from the vanity to see Jackie standing in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest as she stares at the floor. My heart pounds in my chest at the sight of her defeat. She’s a ghost of the fiery woman I’d come to resent, and everything’s hot and uncomfortable and blurry all over again. “But she was mine, and I loved her with everything I had. It’s… you just can’t… You won’t ever get it. At least, I hope you never do.”
Goddammit, I do not understand why I’m reacting this way, sniffing quickly and swallowing around the lump in my throat. She’s not apologizing to me, I know better than to expect that from her, but when Jackie glances up at me, I see the evidence of her tears. I bite my lip hard to stifle my own urge to cry. She hasn’t been crying over me, and I wouldn’t be crying over her. We’re both here, sharing this intensely uncomfortable moment, mourning a girl that never really had the chance to prove that she could be more than just something ugly and mean.
I push myself away from the vanity, leaving the pictures where I’d laid them. Jackie and I stare at one another across the distance of the room, both with arms crossed over our chests. I’m not sure who’s most likely to start crying at the moment, and I heave a sigh around all of the emotions swirling around inside of me. It feels wrong to leave it like this between us, but how the hell do you say goodbye to someone who never really wanted you as you were?
“I miss her every day,” she finally admits with a small, defeated sort of shrug. I purse my lips and try to remind myself again that this could’ve happened to anyone, but it happened to these people. And if nothing else, I at least owe them for demanding my existence, for giving me the opportunity to gain the love of Brennan, Jude, and Tyler. I incline my head toward her, acknowledging that fact that I get it, and I leave it at that.
Jackie moves further into the room, skirting by the vanity to head toward the cork board and the pictures of her daughter. Her fingers ghost over the pictures with such reverence that I have a hard time reminding myself that this grieving woman was the same monster who’d made my life an absolute living hell for months on end. I take one last shaky breath and escape from the room. I pause long enough to glance over at Jackie one last time, my stomach twisting at the sight of her shoulders shaking with the force of her sobs.
I close my eyes and take a long breath. For nine months, this was my life. And these people, these grieving parents, they were my purpose. But there’s one final thought that plagues me as I turn from the room and head for the stairs.
It was never really mine.
29
Jude
I’m not content to sit around and wait for Tyler and Brennan, so I make an excuse to get back to Malibu earlier than we agreed—telling them I’m going to spend the next couple weeks at the beach house so I can make sure Piper has a ride to and from school every day. And while it’s not exactly a lie, it’s not a complete truth either.
What it really is, is a chance to sneak in some private time with Piper at her new place without dealing with the heavy bullshit that can come up when we’re all together. I pull the car through the gate about half an hour earlier than we agreed to, excitement coursing through my veins at the idea of snagging some alone time with her. It’s not that I care about splitting my time with her with the other guys, but it’s been a long couple of weeks since prom… And if I get to be the first p
erson to fuck her in her new house? Even better.
Piper meets me at the door, and there’s a sort of sadness behind her eyes that makes my gut twist uncomfortably. I hook my hand around her bicep and spin her back in the direction of the entryway. “Where’s your bedroom?” I ask as I let the door fall shut behind us with a loud click. “Piper,” I whisper harshly when she turns to me with a half-hearted glare, “we’ve got about a twenty minute window for me to make you forget whatever it is that’s making you look all sad and shit. The clock’s ticking, sugar. Where the hell’s your bedroom?”
She hesitates for a moment before shaking her arm loose from my grip, and my stomach falls. Damn, I was really looking forward to— My thought cuts off mid-sentence when she curls her fingers around mine and drags me toward the stairs, glancing over her shoulder toward where another set of stairs leads down to yet another level of Stan’s massive house. She bites her lip before she turns her attention back towards the stairs, dragging me toward a bedroom near the end of the hallway, and I swear to god my dick is already half-hard by the time she pushes the door open.
The energy between us is nothing short of frantic as she slams her door behind us and clicks the lock into place. My eyes drag toward the floor to ceiling window in a nook just beyond her bed, the glint of the ocean water catching my eye, but she pulls my attention back toward her when the sound of a zipper meets my ears. She’s already half undressed, and my dick goes from half-hard to full mast at the way she stares at me with hooded eyes as she reaches up to unsnap her bra.