Maybe if I piss her off enough, she’ll send me back to New York?
“How about this,” I add, when I realize that she’s pursed her mouth too tightly to get any words out. “If I go on this talk show with you, you let me talk to my grandparents.” Her eyes go wide, and her face pales. That’s when I know I made the right decision not telling her about Maxine. Tess feels threatened by the Banks family. That much is painfully obvious in this moment.
“You are a minor child,” she says instead, taking the wrong tactic with me. I don’t do well following blind orders. “If I say you are going on the talk show with me, then you’re going.” I watch as she both metaphorically and literally digs her heels in. “Your kidnapping might not have been all that traumatic for you, but it destroyed me. I can handle a lot of things, Dakota, but disrespect isn’t one of them.”
I’m seething on the inside right now, but what can I do? What the actual hell can I do? Tess used her money and her lawyers and her influence to separate me from the Banks. Now, she’s throwing that weight around so that I’ll advance her career, too. I don’t feel like a daughter to her, just a pawn, something to be played with, to be pushed around a board until I’m in just the right spot.
“I’d like this dress please,” I breathe, my voice husky with anger.
“It’s too flashy,” Tess says, but then, as if she’s realized she’s pushed me as far as she’s going to get me, she backtracks. “But if it’s the one you want …”
I slam the changing room door closed before she can finish.
Nothing about my life is what I want.
Nothing.
The next morning, I get up early of my own accord. I still hate it—and I still don’t understand why nobody in this weird family sleeps in on weekends—but there’s just something uncomfortable about sleeping four hours past everyone else in the house. Like, when I finally get up and pad downstairs for a drink, I’ve got mussy bed hair and the whole Vanguard family is dressed and ready for a corporate conference or something.
Today, I waltz in dressed in a cropped Genshin Impact t-shirt and jeans to find Maxx, Chasm, and Parrish all seated at the dining table together. Kimber isn’t far off, as usual, schmoozing all over Chasm. Somehow, her fixation with him bothers me more than usual. Is it because we almost kissed? Because he’s been tutoring me? I don’t know.
“Oh, look, it’s the orphan,” Kimber quips with a rude sneer, but I am just not here for that shit today.
“Orphan would imply that I have no family at all, not two sets that both want me so badly they went to court over it.” I pad into the kitchen and reach for the handle of the fridge before glancing at my supposed sister to find her face red as the boys all pause in whatever they’re doing to watch the exchange. “And anyway, if I were an orphan, do you really think that’s something to poke fun at? Are you heartless?”
Kimber shoves up from the table, blond curls bobbing with the motion. She looks between me and Parrish, me and Parrish. It’s like she expects him to stand up for her. Instead, he leans back in his seat like he’s enjoying the show.
“Are you seriously going to sit there and let her talk to me like that?” Kimber growls at him, and he gives a loose shrug.
“If you’re going to dish it, you should learn to take it. Nobody likes a bully, Kimber.”
With a scream of rage, she shoves away from the table and goes stomping off, but only so far as the entrance to the hall. She whirls around, her face twisting in an expression of teenage fury. It’s okay, I’m used to it. I’m still in that stage myself.
I take the carton of milk—probably the same one that Parrish was drinking from yesterday—and turn around to face her, carefully unscrewing the top. Knowing that he’s watching me, I lift the milk to my lips and chug some.
“Gamer bitch,” she spits, as if that’s an insult of any kind. I smile as I lick the milk from my upper lip. The sound of a chair scraping across the floor briefly draws my attention, and I notice that Parrish is looking sharply away from me, jaw clenched tight, teeth gritted. I return my attention to Kimber’s smug face.
“Listen, I already told Tess that I don’t want the free nose job. She said you were desperate for boobs, so … have at it. You can take my surgery slot, although I think it’s weird as fuck that you’d let your dad put breast implants in you.”
“It wouldn’t be him, it’d be his colleague!” she screeches back at me like a wild animal, turning and tearing down the hall with angry tears brimming. I let her go and then take another drink of milk as someone slow-claps at the table.
“Well done, Little Sister,” Chasm purrs, cocking his head to one side. His lightning bolt hair draws my attention, but my gaze stays for his pierced mouth. His mouth is about as stupid as Parrish’s muscles. Just … ridiculously stupid. “Wasn’t sure you had it in you.”
“Weren’t you? The syphilis must’ve already turned your brain to mush. Let me know when you get dick pus so we can form a diagnosis.”
“Why don’t you come and give me a personal check-up?” he asks, squeezing the front of his jeans. I ignore him and finish off the milk, looking around for the garbage can before I remember that the Vanguard family has a trash compactor. Like, who needs a special appliance just to turn their garbage into a Wall-E cube? I’d only ever seen one before playing The Sims on my laptop.
“STD free, so … thanks but no thanks,” I respond, feeling my blood heat with the threat of battle. If Chasm wants to start shit with me today, then let him. I’m ready. I sort of thought we were becoming friends, but I guess not.
“Morning, Dakota,” Maxx says, which is a nice change of pace from Parrish’s apathy and Chasm’s lewdness. I pretend not to care that he’s here, but that little flutter in my belly says otherwise. I haven’t seen in him in a month, not since the night of the party. Although we have been hooking up online to play games now and again.
“Morning,” I reply, resisting the warm flush I feel when he glances back at me, flashing that pretty smile of his. “Is Maxine in town?”
X shakes his head in response, but I’m not surprised. Maxie already told me she was drowning in her studies and that she wouldn’t be able to come back until next week. Still, it was worth the ask. I’d do anything to share a coffee with her right about now.
“I still can’t believe you’re dating her sister,” Chas says, pointing between me and Maxx while Parrish continues to stare out the French doors toward the gray sky above the lake. His face is distant and contemplative, but when he finally turns back to glare at me, there’s an edge of cruelty to his features.
Something about me scares him, and the only way for him to deal with that is to lash out. I brace myself for impact.
“Why?” X asks, leaning back in his own chair. He’s wearing a lime green, white, and black jacket with the words Wright Family Racing scrawled across the back. From what little I could find about him on social media, his family is big into motocross. They race nearly every week, and even have their own custom painted toy hauler to travel in. “It wasn’t a coincidence. I sought Maxine out after the news story broke, and we bonded.” He shrugs his shoulders as Chas lets out an annoying horse-like snort.
My eyes tear away from Parrish’s with great difficulty. To be quite honest, I could probably stare at him all day and forget to be bored. He’s got that sort of face, one that brings immense pleasure just by looking at it. And I hate that. I hate that I can’t let his ugly personality blind me to all that pretty. I suppose I really am just a mammal by nature, huh?
“And by bonded, you mean …” Chas starts, and then trails off when Maxx picks up an Oreo and chucks it at his head. He manages to catch it in his mouth with a husky laugh, standing up from the table as he crunches the cookie in half and grins. “You sleep with her yet or no?” he asks around a mouthful of food.
I decide then that I actually hate him more than Parrish.
“You’re a colossal dick,” I say at about the same time that X adds, “you’re a fu
cking prick, you know that?”
We look at each other and smile just before Maxx stands up.
“I had fun playing with you the other night,” he tells me, and Chas starts laughing again at the accidental innuendo.
“I’ll bet you did. Sisters. That must’ve been nice,” he muses as I whip a glare his way. I won’t soon forget that at least half his bravado is for show. I’m not entirely certain that he isn’t a virgin anyway. He could very well be.
“Do you enjoy sexualizing women and being a misogynistic jockstrap?”
“Do you enjoy being a dime a dozen wannabe Twitch streamer?” he retorts, giving me an awful smile as he pushes back that yellow streaked black hair of his. I won’t soon forget that he thought to shove me in the pool at our first meeting. Or … that he’s been tutoring me for weeks. Asking nothing in return but my silence. Fuck.
“You don’t have to keep pretending to appease the patriarchy: I think what you did at the party was adorable.”
Was that too much? Seems like it was just enough to irritate him without giving away his secrets.
“Aw, aren’t you sweet?” Chas schmoozes, moving over to the kitchen island so he can lean forward with his palms planted on the counter’s surface. There’s a warning in his face that doesn’t quite translate to his words. “That compliment might just stick if you hadn’t been raised by a bunch of hillbilly idiots without access to the internet. I mean, come on, how the fuck do you raise some random kid that's dropped off on your doorstep without questioning things?”
My cheeks flush red as shame and anger and frustration wash over me. Does he think he’s the first genius in the world to ever ask that question? Hell, it was the first thing my grandparents asked when they found out. How come we didn’t know? How could we not know?
But a missing child in Washington state doesn’t necessarily end up on the news in New York. Sadly, children go missing in every state, every day. It’d be impossible to keep up with all of it. Besides, the world moves quickly. When my grandparents finally did get a chance to catch up on the news, I’m sure they were flooded with stories of plane crashes or natural disasters or murders.
Besides, it wasn’t like Saffron hadn’t dumped a kid off on them before. That, and she had ‘my’ birth certificate. The birth certificate of the real Dakota Banks, the one who died, the one whose place in life I took, leaving behind a ghost in Mia Patterson’s stead.
I can’t tell any of this to Chasm though, not with that awful smirk on his face. The temptation to hit him is there, but instead, I sharpen my mind and go for the jugular. Why not? He just did the same to me.
“Look, I know you’re jealous that I actually belong here. Where do you belong, Chasm? Clearly it isn’t at home because you’re never there. You don’t seem to want to be there.” He stands up straight, still smirking at me, but there’s a twitch in his smile that wasn’t there before. “And for all your talk, I’ve never actually seen you date a girl. Is it because they all run in the opposite direction when you open your fucking mouth?”
“Alright, you two,” X starts, as if he thinks he can smooth this over by lifting both palms toward us in a placating sort of way. “We get it. You don’t like each other, but you don’t have to dig for scabs.”
“Oh, really?” Chas asks, circling around the counter to get in my space. But I’m not afraid of him. Actually, the more he tries to intimidate me, the less intimidated I am. If he has to try so hard to put others down, maybe there’s something wrong with him? “Because I think I’d like to see this one bleed.” He leans even closer, dropping his voice to a sarcastic whisper. “Thanks for keeping quiet in exchange for the tutoring. Real nice, Little Sister.”
“Go home to your own family, Chasm. You do still have one of those, don’t you?” Even as I’m saying the words, I’m cursing myself for them, regretting them, wishing I could take them back. I know better than anyone else what it’s like to feel as if you don’t belong in your own home. Also, Chasm smells like peppermint ice cream and his breath is sweet and fresh. Ugh.
Yeah, yeah, I have a scent fetish for sure.
Something about what I’ve just said shuts Chasm down so hard and so fast that my head feels like it’s spinning from the insult.
“Screw you, Little Sister. You can forget about our study session tonight, okay?” He gives me a quick up and down, a dismissive flick of the eyes that has me shifting on my feet.
Much to my surprise, Chasm storms off, leaving me with the ever-silent Parrish and the frowning Maxx.
“I don't understand …” I start as Maxx gives me a sympathetic look.
“After Chas’ grandma died,” he explains slowly, casting a quick glance in Parrish’s direction, as if he’s feeling out a reaction. “And he came to live with his dad, he used to cry every day at school. His father was never home—still isn’t—and on the rare occasion he is, he’s hypercritical. Militant, more like. Nothing Chasm ever does is right. He hates being in that big house by himself—hates being with his dad even more. This is like, his second home …”
Shit.
I’ve done it again, haven’t I? Given it my worst and succeeded and now feel like crap because I made someone else feel like crap. Being mean blows, so why am I still doing it? He started it, but … Bleh. There’s no easy answer here.
I frown hard, but Maxx puts a comforting hand on my shoulder. Much to my own embarrassment, I jump at the contact. His fingers are too hot, and he’s dating my sister, and I’m a colossal asshole.
Parrish notices the strange interaction between us and narrows his eyes, pouty rich boy mode in full force as he pushes some of that pretty hair of his back from his forehead.
“You’re lucky Chasm is so nice to you,” Parrish drawls as I draw my attention away from Maxx with no small amount of effort. The universe must really be out to get me. First, the kidnapping thing. Now, the Maxx thing. I’ve never felt such a natural, magnetic chemistry to a boy before. And, of course, this particular boy happens to be the love of my sister’s life. Heart, meet bullseye. Just stick an arrow right through me. “If I were him, I’d simply point out that blood and money can’t erase years of ignorance and poverty.”
“Ignorance?” I choke out with a harsh laugh. I try to reign myself back in, I really do, but I’ve never been under such constant attack before. “Do you know what your father said when I asked him his opinion of Mitch McConnell?” Parrish just stares at me. “He said who’s that?” I keep staring at my stepbrother as he keeps that cool head of his, letting his mouth twist into a cruel smirk. He doesn’t know who Mitch is either, apparently. If he did, he’d try to school me.
“Maybe Tess would like to know about your visits with the kidnapper’s kid?” he muses, and I feel the color drain out of my face. Even with all the quips and bullshit, I never expected Parrish to bring that up. I was under the impression there was some sort of code between us, some unspoken rule. Let each other’s transgressions ride. Guess I was wrong.
“Come on, Parrish,” Maxx says, turning and giving his friend a look that reminds me he was once a part of this group, and that he probably fit in well. His handsome faces takes on an arrogant tint, something that hints at a bit of ruthlessness hiding beneath the kind façade. “Don’t take it that far.”
“Really?” Parrish asks, blinking like he’s surprised as he turns to his friend. “Because in the past, you haven’t had any problems taking things to the brink. Freshman year, you drove a guy to drop out of Whitehall.”
Maxx makes a face, like this isn’t a particularly pleasant memory for him.
“Yeah, well, people change.” He gives me a look and shakes his head briefly before turning back to Parrish. “Just because you acted like a dick once doesn’t mean you have to keep acting like a dick.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve changed your ways for the sister?” Parrish asks with a scoff, like he can’t imagine Maxine being worth that sort of effort. “Excuse me if I find that a little hard to believe.”
�
��Well, start believing it,” Maxx snaps back, getting up in Parrish’s face. “Because I’m done with the high school drama bullshit. Grow up, Vanguard.”
The two boys stare each other down as I debate getting involved. Honestly, I’m a bit surprised to hear that Maxx was a tyrant in high school. He seems so … nice? … right now.
“Look at you,” Parrish drawls, ever the consummate rich boy. He knows exactly how to throw his weight around to make other people look like shit. “The scholarship student with an attitude.”
Maxx just throws his head back and laughs at that, raking his fingers through his dark hair.
“Right, Parrish. Rag on me for being middle-class. It suits you, doesn’t it? That sort of petty cruelty.” Maxx pauses as my eyes flick between the two boys, and our gazes meet. Clash, is more like. There’s this protective glint in X’s gaze that makes me feel like I’ve got an ally in this boy. We stare at each other for a moment before I finally turn to Parrish.
He’s watching me, too. More like watching me and Maxx, I think. And he doesn’t like it, the way we’re looking at one another. Because he’s jealous. He’s so totally fucking jealous. Only … that makes no sense, right?
“Kids,” Tess greets, sweeping into the room in a pair of red Louboutins, a black pantsuit, and a careful chignon at the back of her head. She heads straight for the fancy espresso machine in the corner and goes about making herself a flat white with almond milk. There hasn’t been a day in this house that I haven’t heard either Tess or Paul or Kimber moaning about how fat they’ve gotten and how they desperately need a diet. It’s a bit … mm … toxic as fuck? “What are the three of you up to?”
“Maxx was just leaving,” Parrish says blandly, and Tess glances over her shoulder to give us all a look. After a moment, something dawns on her.
“Maxx,” Tess begins, turning around to look at him as she crosses her arms over her stupidly sharp suit and gives him a once-over. She looks like a politician again, or like a very office-conscious model. Pretty sure most authors don’t write in shoes that cost a cool grand and throw out the positioning of the spine. Seeing as she flip-flops between that mussy creative look and this, I’m guessing she has a meeting with her editor or something today. “Do you have a girlfriend yet at that university of yours?”
Stolen Crush Page 27
