Bittersweet Revenge (The Patricians Book 2)

by R. G. Angel

  “You just lied to that doctor; it came out so smoothly.” He sighed. “I didn't expect that.”

  “Impressed?” I asked, my mouth still full of food.

  “I’m not sure,” he replied, meeting my eyes in the mirror. Sorrow was set deep inside them.

  I sighed. “I’m still the same girl, Archie.”

  He shook his head. “No, you’re not, and that’s okay. Just don’t let this life stain you. Don’t let me or him stain you.”

  I opened my mouth to tell him he was mistaken, but he wasn’t. I knew it. I had become more calculating, warier. “I promise the essence of me is still here, Archie. I need to adapt for now, but I'm still me.”

  “Yeah,” he said with a nod, but I could see the doubt on his face – doubts I couldn't ease because I had them too.

  “So, tell me everything now. Because, not to side with Caleb, but why would anyone leave you a bottle of wine to kill you?”

  “Ah yes, that.” I took a sip of coffee. I twirled around on my seat to look at him for when I told him the beautiful way I’d fucked up. But as I finally concentrated on him again, I noticed little details that worried me. While he was still impeccably dressed, his blue dress shirt was creased and untucked from his black dress pants. The dark hair he usually styled to perfection was a mess on top of his head. His eyes were shadowed with dark circles. His face carried a stubble I'd never seen before.

  “Are you okay?” I leaned toward him.

  He looked away and ran his hand through his hair. “What do you want me to say, Esme? Because I felt it.” He tapped the center of his chest. “I woke up with the irrational fear that something was wrong without knowing what. Then we got the call about your accident... I felt like I’d died, Esme. My heart stopped, but I had to keep my face smooth even though all I’d wanted to do was vomit. So yeah, I was scared.”

  “Archie...” I sat beside him on the bed, resting my head on his shoulder. “I didn't mean for anything like that to happen...ever.”

  He sighed and kissed the crown of my head. “Now tell me what you did so I can get mad instead of sad.”

  I chuckled at that, grateful for my brother's playfulness. I stood up and began to pace the room.

  “Okay, so you've read mom's journal and you noticed pages were missing, right?”

  He nodded. “Yes, the pages you left for me in my safe place.”

  I grimaced, cocking my head to the side. “Well... Yeah, but I also took a few extra pages, five to be exact, and sent them to someone else.”

  I threw him a quick look. His face was now set in a scowl.

  “Do I dare to guess who you sent the pages to?”

  I winced. “I just couldn't bear the idea of him hating me, Archie!” I threw my hands up in exasperation. “I thought if I showed him our mother was not the homewrecker he thought she was, maybe –”

  “Maybe what?” he asked, standing up too now, visibly agitated by my revelation, and I couldn't blame him; it had been a mistake.

  I thought that maybe he would forgive me for my betrayal. I shook my head. “It doesn't matter what I thought because he never received the pages. Somebody intercepted the mail.”

  He nodded, burying his hands in his pants’ pockets, his back straight, jaw flexing. He was clearly beyond furious, but was trying his best to restrain himself from exploding into a rage. “If I’m clear, then somebody, other than you, me, and the mystery postman, knows about that journal. So basically, not only have we lost our element of surprise, but the investigation is turning dangerous a lot sooner than we’d anticipated.”

  I stopped pacing, my legs still weaker than I’d thought. “I'm sorry,” I said contritely as I sat back on the bed in defeat, trailing my fingers over the soft blanket. “I didn't think it would be such a big deal, but on the plus side, we know that the journal is important now.”

  “Because somebody tried to kill you for it?” he asked, his face now red with anger. I knew I had made a huge mistake.

  “No, I mean yes... Maybe?” I gave him a sheepish smile. “What's done is done now, isn't it?”

  He shook his head. “You're living in a house without protection, and someone has decided to hurt you.” He nodded. “Yeah, things are great!”

  “The sarcasm is strong with this one,” I said in an attempt at humor.

  “You think?” I didn't think his scowl could darken any more; I was wrong because boy, did it.

  He resumed his pacing, cocking his head to the side every so often as if he was having an internal debate.

  I stood up. “Well, while you discuss with yourself, I’ll take a shower.”

  “Uh-huh.,” He raised his hand.

  I took a quick shower, the hot water doing wonders for my bone-weary body and helping me unlock my sore muscles. I was not feeling totally like myself, but I was getting there.

  When I came out, Archie was standing with his back to me, looking out of the window.

  “Maybe you should tell him,” he breathed.

  “Tell what? To whom?” I sat down on the armchair to put my sneakers on.

  “Caleb. Tell him what’s happening.”

  “Are you high? Since when do you trust Caleb Astor?”

  “I know, but…” He looked heavenward before concentrating on me again. “It hurts me to admit it, but he really cares about you. I didn’t think he did, but he’s coming undone over you. Maybe if he knew, he could keep you safe here.”

  “He is mad, not upset,” I corrected him.

  “With Caleb? It’s one and the same. He is the boy with no feelings – or at least so few that he can’t really express them, but I know what I see.”

  I sighed, both at the warmth that filled my chest with this revelation and the Pandora’s Box that could open. “Even if he cares, can you be sure his loyalty lies with us? You know there is still a strong possibility that his father is involved in all this.”

  “I know that, Esme.”

  I nodded. “Okay, so what then? If we find out his father’s involved, can you honestly say he would choose to side with me?” I shook my head. “He hates that he feels something for me, whatever it is. Are you willing to take the risk? Are you certain he won’t betray us when it matters?” It hurt me to say that, to admit that we couldn’t trust him, but I was done working on blind faith.

  He shook his head, crossing his arms on his chest. “No, I can’t.”

  I stood up. “You see?” I grabbed my jacket.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “I almost died last night, Archie.” I pointed to the door. “I want to have a quick word with Caleb because I don’t want him thinking I tried to kill myself. I don’t know why. I just...don’t.”

  His eyes softened and he took a step toward me, resting his hand on my shoulder. “I think I know why, but how are you going to do that without telling him at least part of the truth?”

  I chewed on my lip, looking at my closed bedroom door as if Caleb was on the other side. “I haven’t figured out the specifics yet.” I hadn’t figured out anything about anything to be fair. “And then I want to go see Tay and go for a coffee and a muffin, anything really. I just need to get out.”

  “I’ll drive you.”

  I wanted to argue that I could do it, but to be honest, I was not completely certain I could, and I knew my brother would jump at any chance to see Taylor. I stopped by the door and looked at him. Would telling him the truth about Antoine and Taylor really be a betrayal? My brother had put me first on so many occasions and I felt like I was betraying him by not easing his mind about them. If only I knew what had caused all of this.

  “Maybe you coming with me is not the best idea.”

  “Maybe,” he conceded. “But I need to.”

  “What do you need to do? Take me there or see her?”

  He looked at me, a forbidden look on his face.

  “What did you do, Archie? Honestly, what did you do to her?”

  He looked down, his cheeks tainted with shame as
he balled his hands into fists. “Nothing I can justify or be proud of. I was a different person then, a stupid boy full of pain and anger.” He looked up at me, his grey eyes reflecting a raw anguish that hurt my soul. “Something I pray every day you won’t find out about until you really know me, until I know for sure you won’t stop loving me.”

  “I won’t. Of course I won't!” I scoffed. He was my brother, my twin. Even if we’d spent seventeen years apart, I felt connected with him in ways I’d never thought possible.

  “You might and I wouldn’t blame you, but…” He brought his hand to my cheek and brushed his lips against my forehead. “Just the thought of you looking at me the way I know you would if you knew, kills me, Esme. I can’t, not yet.”

  And I knew the unspoken words - not ever.

  “I won’t stop loving you Archie, but okay.” I nodded. Reaching for his arm, I interlinked his with mine. “When you’re ready.”

  I found Benjamin downstairs. I saw his face morph with relief when he saw me standing.

  “I’m glad to see you well, Ms. Forbes.”

  “Thank you, Benjamin. I’m sorry for scaring you. I need to speak with Caleb; is he in his office?”

  “No, miss. I–” He faltered; he never faltered. “Mr. Forbes left quite upset with a bottle of scotch. I’m unsure where he went,” he added, his face filling with worry once more. It didn’t matter how Caleb talked to him; the old man obviously cared for him.

  “I’ll find him. It’s okay.” I rested my hand on his forearm.

  Benjamin looked down at my hand as if this gesture was so unnatural, so uncommon, and it probably was. Nobody in this house knew how to care, to nurture, to simply love, and all of this made me hurt for the little boy Caleb had once been.

  “I will take care of him, Benjamin. I’ll bring him back.”

  I got the keys out of my pocket, but Archie caught my hand. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, an eyebrow arched as if I was crazy.

  “Change of plan. I need to look for Caleb.”

  “Okay...” He gently took the keys out of my hand and put them in his pants pocket. “And I’m not saying you can’t or shouldn’t – I’m just going to keep an eye on you and drive you wherever you need to go. You almost died yesterday, Esme. Please be reasonable.”

  I looked up at him. If it had been anything other than genuine concern on his face, I would have told him to butt out. But he was not trying to control me or tell me what to do; he was only trying to keep me safe. How could I deny him?

  “Okay, fine.”

  “Oh, and Ms. Forbes,” Benjamin called just as we were about to exit the house.

  I turned around and met his eyes. “Yes?”

  “I thought you’d like to know that Mr. and Mrs. Astor will be back today. Maybe it would be best if young Mr. Astor was back in before them and in full form.”

  “I understand, Benjamin. I’ll do my best.”

  “So, where to?” Archie asked as we settled into the car.

  “The cemetery.”

  “The–” Archie arched an eyebrow at me. “Seriously?”

  I nodded. “Yes, it’s just a hunch.”

  “Okay, as you wish.”

  We drove to the cemetery in companionable silence. Once there, I let out a sigh of relief when I saw the Aston Martin parked across the street.

  “How did you know?” Archie asked, clearly impressed.

  I shrugged. “Caleb thinks only his brother cared for him unconditionally.”

  “Based on the way you’re looking out for him now, I would say he is wrong to think that. Isn’t he, sister?”

  “Maybe,” I admitted, keeping my eyes on the wrought-iron gate of the entrance. “You can go now.” I turned toward him. “Please, I needed to do this alone. I’ll have to drive him home anyway.”

  “Esme, I don't think you should yet.”

  “Archie, trust me. I know what I'm doing. I wouldn’t put his life or mine in danger, but if you come with me, he will close up.”

  Archie sighed, looking behind me, his mouth twisted with indecision.

  “I need to do this, Archie,” I insisted. “He saved my life.”

  He nodded. “Fine, but call me if you need anything at any time.”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “Don’t make me regret this, Esme.”

  I smiled at him, leaning down on the seat to kiss his cheek. “I won’t, brother of mine.”

  He hesitated one more second, detailing my face as if he was looking for something before agreeing. He finally turned in his seat again, and I knew that I had won.

  “Just call me when you get home?”

  “Promise.” I leaned over and kissed his cheek soundly. No matter how bad things were, or how my life changed, I would do it all over again for the love of my brother. This was such a nice feeling, this powerful sibling bond that hadn’t even existed a few months ago. Now I could hardly imagine a life without Archie in it.

  I entered the cemetery by the small side door. An unforgiving gush of frigid wind reminded me that we were still very much in the heart of winter.

  I tightened my red cashmere coat around me and looked up at the heavy grey sky. Snow was definitely on the way.

  I sighed, making my way to the hill where Theo’s grave lay. It was a secluded, quiet area close to a weeping willow. How fitting.

  The cemetery was quite deserted except for an old man holding a single red rose in his hand, hunching against a grave, his pain so profound. I couldn’t help but glance at the date of death when I passed the grave. Four years. Yet his pain looked so raw, so new. Was that what it was like to lose the love of your life?

  Without invitation Caleb’s face flashed in my mind. I faltered. Caleb was not the love of my life. He was an angry young man hell-bent on torturing me.

  Please Esme, don’t make that mistake. Don't get in any deeper with that broken man. My train of thought was interrupted when I finally spotted Caleb. I stopped a few feet from the grave, remaining unseen.

  He was sitting beside the grave, his back leaning against the tombstone, head back, eyes closed. One leg was stretched out, the other folded at the knee. His arm rested on it as he precariously held the half-empty bottle of whiskey. He was only wearing a thin jacket; he had to be freezing. I looked more closely at his face. Even with his eyes closed, he looked tense. His face was so much paler than usual, his pursed lips taking on a little taint of blue.

  “What do you want, Esmeralda?” He asked with a sigh, his eyes still closed.

  I frowned. “How?” I asked out loud, walking closer to him now. The paleness of his skin was even more striking. I was no specialist, but hypothermia couldn’t be far off.

  “The wind… I could smell you.”

  He opened his blue eyes. They looked paler somehow, with the slight haze of intoxication, a haze I knew very well after seeing it so many times in Luke’s eyes.

  “What are you doing here, Caleb?”

  He gave me a small smile, but it lacked its usual bitterness; it was just sad… So weary it made me miss the bitter ones. “It’s a good place to be haunted.”

  “Why are you haunted?”

  He shook his head. “Because of what is, what was, what could have been, by maybes and empty promises. I don’t expect you to understand.”

  He rested his hand on the ground, laboriously trying to help himself up.

  I reached down to help him.

  “No, don’t. I can do it.”

  I sighed and looked at him struggling to stand. He grabbed the headstone, resting his hand on it for help.

  “You know you didn’t have to go to such extreme measures,” he commented after steadying himself.

  “Caleb, I didn’t try to kill myself.”

  He looked at me with uncertainty. “But you’re unhappy.”

  Was he joking? He had spent every waking moment since my return torturing me. “Why? Are you trying to make me happy?”

  He shook his head, looking down at th
e headstone as he ran his hand back and forth on the smooth marble.

  “You won,” he said barely louder than a whisper before taking a swig of his bottle.

  “I don’t understand.” I rested my hand on his shoulder. He froze, looking back at me with some realization and fear.

  “I’m letting you go.”

  It was my turn to freeze as dread filled me. If he let me go, it would ruin my whole investigation, but I knew deep down there was more to it than that, and it terrified me even more. I wasn’t sure I wanted him to give up on me.

  “Caleb, no. There is more at stake than what you think.”

  He kept shaking his head, stubbornly gripping the stone even more. “No, I won't have someone's death on my conscience. I’ve already got enough on it. Just give me a few days. I’ll find a way. I’ll figure out a solution that will work for everybody. You’ll be free.”

  He was delusional if he thought that would happen. Though what if it could? I wasn’t even sure what freedom meant anymore, but I couldn't leave, not while I had a murder to solve.

  I looked around the cemetery at the dying flowers on the graves. “Do you know why the dead receive more flowers than the living?”

  He finally looked at me again, obviously surprised by the change of subject. “No, tell me.”

  “Because regrets are so much more powerful than anything else. More powerful than gratitude. Don’t let them swallow you whole and take you under. You’re so much more than this.”

  I took the bottle from his hand. He didn't fight me. “Don’t do anything rash or irremediable while you’re under a misconception.” I extended my hand toward him. “Let me drive us home. Give me your keys.”

  He got his keys out of his pocket, but kept them in his hand. “I said I’d never let you drive my car.”

  “And if you don’t let me drive and you drive us in this state, you really will have my death on your conscience.” He winced as I nudged my hand toward him. It was a cheap shot, but his lips were truly blue now. I couldn't have his death on my conscience either.