by Ivy Fox
I turn around and watch him take three wide steps back, not wanting to share the same air I’m breathing. I square my shoulders and toughen up my spine, knowing that the next words to leave his mouth aren’t going to be pretty.
“Stay the fuck away from Elle.” He points a menacing finger at me.
“I thought we were supposed to be friends?” I arch a sarcastic brow outwardly, while inside, a part of me dies a little with the sudden malice bleeding out of him.
“Yeah, well, you fucked that up when you slept with my girl.”
“Does that mean we’re no longer going to be wearing matching BFF bracelets? I’m hurt. I worked so hard on them.”
“Everything is a fucking joke to you, isn’t it?”
“The only joke I see here is you. Don’t fucking threaten me again. What I do or don’t do with Princess is my concern. Not yours. You lost that right when you tried to play us both.”
“I wasn’t playing with either of you.”
“Keep telling yourself that, Boy Scout. Now leave me the fuck alone. I need to get your stench off me.”
He picks up his wet clothes from the floor and leaves without so much as another word. I place my temple on the cool tile, hating that I always show him the worst side of me even when he’s not afraid to show me his.
And to my bitter resentment, I don’t wash him off me.
It’s all that’s left of us.
Chapter 6
Elle
“Maya, do you want something to eat? Henry made this soup just for you,” I tell her with a soft, soothing tone, placing the tomato soup and the grilled cheese sandwich on my bedside table next to her.
But Maya doesn’t respond. Much like she hasn’t responded to any of my questions or attempts to learn what’s wrong with her all day. Whatever happened to Maya really shook her to her core. I’ve never seen this type of devastation and fear in a person.
No.
That’s not true.
Maya has that same look in her eye that my mother used to get. Back then, when Mom got this way, I felt just as helpless as I feel at this very moment—small and insignificant. Nothing I said or did could wake her up from her zombie-like state. The only thing that remotely did the trick was when I danced for her. But I highly doubt that me doing a fouette will bring any sort of life back into Maya’s blank gaze right now.
I sit down on the edge of the bed and run my fingers through her auburn hair, Maya’s consistent blank stare tightening the knot in my chest.
“I can’t believe how long your hair has grown already. If you want, we can go over to that hairstylist, Hugo, this afternoon and have him cut it for you.”
She doesn’t even so much as blink at my remark.
“Yeah, I think it looks pretty the way it is now, too.” I sigh with a slump to my shoulders. “Maya, please talk to me. What can I do to help you? Just tell me. We can work this out, no matter what it is. I promise.”
She squeezes her lids shut, a stray tear running down her cheek before she turns her back to me and faces the opposing wall.
“Okay, honey. Rest then. I’ll come up and check in on you in a bit.”
I pick up the tray holding her lunch and bring it downstairs to the kitchen, feeling helpless to ease her troubles.
“Your friend didn’t like the soup?” Henrietta asks, her forehead wrinkling with concern.
“It’s not that. She’s just not hungry, Henry.”
“Are you sure? I can make her something else if she’d like.”
I shake my head.
“I don’t think food is what’s going to fix Maya’s problems,” I explain, making my own bowl.
“Probrezita.” Henrietta frowns, gently rubbing my back. “Just give your friend some time. There isn’t a wound that time can’t heal.”
“I’m not so sure,” I mumble defeatedly, taking a seat at the kitchen table.
From my own experience, time can only do so much.
It’s been almost seven years since my mother’s suicide, and her absence still plagues me to this very day. I try not to show the world the hole she left in my life, but no matter how hard I try to hide it from others, I see the effects her death caused on my soul. It’s the ugly scar that tells me that no matter how much a person says they love you, love can’t save them if their demons won’t allow it.
I’m not the only one in this house that pretends her death didn’t change them. Rome has never been the same either. Until recently, my big brother had forgotten even how to smile. The world held no joy or beauty for him.
Only misery and distrust.
But if anyone could climb over Rome’s sky-high walls, they would have to be strong, stubborn, and worthy, so it’s no surprise Holland was the one who got through. They both suffered the same alienating feeling caused by a parent’s death—an agony that only someone who has gone through it can fully comprehend.
Somehow, while the twins and I were in Aspen, they fell in love and began to mend the broken pieces of their own souls. I’m sure when Ollie and Ash find out they’re together, shit is going to hit the fan, but I’m not worried. They love their Snow just as fiercely as Rome does, which means in the end, they will do whatever it takes to make her happy. And even though Holland is still hesitant in letting the twins out of the doghouse, she’ll soon thaw from their genuine remorse at how they’ve been acting these past few months. She won’t be able to help herself. It’s just in her nature to be that kindhearted and forgiving. Holland’s heart is unparalleled to any I have come in contact with. It’s large enough to love all three of my brothers unconditionally and unrepentantly.
I envy her that.
I’m not as forgiving.
Even if it hurts.
“Elle? You haven’t touched your soup,” Henrietta says, bringing me out of my reverie.
“I guess I’m not hungry either,” I explain, pushing the bowl away.
“You’re worried about your friend. It’s normal. But you won’t be any good to her if you get ill. Just eat a few spoonfuls for me. Indulge your old avó, will you, querida?”
She pushes the tomato soup back to its original place in front of me. Not wanting to worry her more than she already is, I force myself to eat all of it. I even manage to take a few bites out of the grilled cheese, just to make sure I ease her worry.
Once I’ve cleared most of the food from my plate, I stand up and tell her I’m going to sneak a peek at Maya to see how she is. But as I’m about to head upstairs to check on Maya, I hear a faint sound coming out of my father’s study down the hall. I walk toward it, wondering who could possibly be in there, never expecting the sight that I find.
Vivienne West—or should I say, Grayson—is fiddling through my father’s desk, opening up each drawer in search of something she apparently can’t seem to find.
“Vivienne, is there a reason why you’re going through my father’s belongings?”
Vivienne’s frame freezes on the spot, an ugly sneer on her lips at being caught red-handed. But instead of answering my question or making any type of excuse as to why she’s here in my father’s office without permission, she pastes on a fake smile and pretends to be pleased with my presence.
“Elle! I’ve missed you so much,” she coos, bridging the gap between us and wrapping her stringy arms around me, air-kissing each of my cheeks.
I pull away, taking a step back from her embrace.
“You didn’t answer my question. What are you doing here?”
“Tending to my husband’s affairs, of course.” She bats her eyelashes innocently.
“My father is in a coma. I doubt he has any affairs left in him.”
By the way her back molars grind, my double entendre hits its mark. She flicks her blond hair, turns around, and heads back to my father’s desk to continue to rummage through his things.
“Here it is. I found what I was looking for,” she states evenly, picking up his checkbook and placing it
in her purse.
My gut tells me that the checkbook to my father’s meager bank account wasn’t what she was truly after. She was here for something else. Of what, I have no clue, but I make a mental note to find out.
“Who let you in?”
“Lawrence, of course. I am still the lady of the house.”
“Lady is a stretch,” I rebuke. “As I recall, my brother threw you out of the manor weeks ago. Rome won’t be pleased to learn you were in our father’s study unsupervised.”
“Oh, I can deal with your brother. Don’t you worry that pretty little head of yours about that.” Her condescending tone hits a nerve, making my jaw tick.
“Silly me. Maybe I’m not making myself clear. I don’t want you here, Vivienne. Because unlike you, I am the lady of the house, which means if I say you’re no longer welcome in my home, then you have exactly five seconds to leave before I call the police to forcibly remove you from the premises. On second thought, I think I like that alternative better,” I retort, pretending to grab my phone and dial the men in blue. It’s the adoring smile that crests her lips that sends an unwelcome chill down my spine, preventing me from punching in nine-one-one.
“Ah, such contained rage bubbling inside you,” she singsongs, looking delighted with my threat. “You remind me so much of your father. You always have. That’s why you’re his favorite, you know?” she muses whimsically. “I’m so glad to see he was successful in grooming at least one of his children into being his legacy. I was starting to have my doubts. Your brothers are such a disappointment in that regard. Too much of their mother in them. But you, Eleanor,” she says, widening her eyes in glee, “you are Malcolm’s true essence personified. Yes, it’s true. You’re still young and have yet to fully tap into your full potential, but when that day comes, what a force you’ll be. No one will ever dare cross you. That is power, my darling stepdaughter. Power that lives way beyond the benefits your last name could ever provide.”
Her venomous words feel like they’re perforating my skin, the poison sinking into my bloodstream and polluting any good that runs through my veins. I always knew the socialite was cruel and rotten to her core, but the way she amorously talked about my father just now tells me she’s just as unhinged.
How did I never see it before?
She’s a monster.
Just like him.
And maybe just like me, too.
When I feel a looming presence behind me, I turn around, Lawrence stiffly standing at the entrance of the room.
“Lawrence, can you please escort my father’s wife to the door? She overstayed her welcome.”
He gives me a curt nod, his pale face telling me he knows he’s screwed up by letting her inside the manor in the first place.
Vivienne keeps that cold smirk on her lips as she begins to make her retreat. But like a true snake in the grass, she stops just as she’s about to pass me. She leans into my ear, her overpriced perfume revolting my stomach.
“You can try and deny it all you want, but the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. I can’t wait to see the woman you’ll become. And neither can your father.”
Slowly, I turn my head in her direction, pinning her with a stare and a heinous smile my father would indeed be proud of.
“If that’s the case, then I wouldn’t look so smug. If I were in your shoes, I’d leave this house and never dare look back. My brother might have thought that throwing you out of the manor would get you out of our lives once and for all, but who knows what lengths I would go to to ensure we never lay eyes on you again.”
Vivienne blanches at that, the blood instantly draining from her face, her smile falling to the floor. With that warning still hanging in the air, she quickens her step and leaves. Lawrence throws a quick worried glance my way, but I’m too angry to say anything.
I’ll let Rome deal with him.
I’m more concerned about why Vivienne would risk coming here in the first place. It’s safe to assume she thought no one would be home to interrupt her ransacking my father’s office. She didn’t count on me ditching class and ruining her plans, that’s for goddamn sure.
She’s up to something.
I just know it.
Then again, so was my father before he unexpectedly got himself in a coma.
Maybe the two are one and the same.
It’s obvious Vivienne idealizes my father by the way she went on and on about him. So much so that I doubt she would bat an eye at doing his dirty work for him. At first, I thought their marriage was one of convenience. He needed to look the part of a loving family man so he could guarantee his nomination for the Supreme Court, while Vivienne needed to marry someone with deep pockets who could sustain the elitist lifestyle she had grown accustomed to. However, now I realize that convenience is not the only thing that binds these two monsters together. Something far more sinister is at play here. I just don’t know what. Whatever it is, it won’t bode well for my family because when it comes to my father, it never does.
After I’ve composed myself, I go upstairs and check on Maya. Thankfully, when I enter the room, she’s fast asleep. But on closer inspection, I see that even in her slumber, Maya is far from being at peace. Her brows are pulled together, her eyelids squinting as if in pain. The nightmare must be horrific because she jolts halfway off the bed with a piercing scream.
“It’s okay, Maya, you’re safe. You’re safe,” I stammer, enveloping her trembling form in a hug. She continues to cry nonstop, holding on to me as if I’m her only lifeline. We must stay like that for well over an hour until exhaustion kicks in, and she falls asleep yet again. Carefully, I place the duvet over her and silently leave the room so she can rest for a bit. Lord knows when one of her nightmares will wake her again.
There must be something I can do to help her. Something that will bring her out of this state.
I maul my lower lip and pick up my phone.
He answers on the third ring.
“Elle?” Reid asks suspiciously. “Not used to you calling me.”
“Well, don’t get used to it either. This isn’t a social call. I need you to come over to my house. Now.”
“Yeah, that will be a hard pass from me. I’m not skipping class to go to the Grayson manor to meet up with my best friend’s baby sister. Ash would have my balls if he found out. Chad, too. And if the rumors are true, then I’m pretty sure Saint would cut off my junk and feed it to me. So again, flattered you called but not in a million years. I like my dick where it is just fine, thank you very much.”
“I’m not calling you for a hookup, asswipe! I’m calling you about Maya.”
“Is she with you?” he asks, his playful tone now urgent. “She didn’t come to class today.”
“Yes, she’s with me.”
“What’s wrong with Maya? Let me talk to her.”
“Not so fast. First, I’m going to ask you a question, and if I don’t like the answer, I’m hanging up.”
“Ask what you have to, Grayson,” he retorts curtly.
“What is Maya to you?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Goodbye.”
“Fuck! Okay, okay! Don’t hang up. Goddamn it! Just tell me if she’s okay?”
“She’s not. Now I’m going to ask you again. What is Maya to you? A friend? A fuck-buddy? Your side piece? What?”
“You truly are Asher’s sister,” he snarls with true contempt in his voice.
“Just answer the question.”
There is a long silent pause that ensues. He’s grown so quiet that I can hear kids in the background laughing and talking animatedly, slamming their lockers closed and going about their normal Pembroke High lives, completely unaware that one of their peers is in complete shambles.
“I’m running out of patience, Reid.”
“Maya is… Maya is…” He exhales. “Maya is everything. She’s everything,” he replies on a somber note.
“I hope that’s true because your ‘everything’ needs you right now. I mean, really needs you, Reid. I’m going to give you this one chance to be the man who actually deserves a girl like her. Are you going to man up and treat her like the queen she is, or are you going to pussy out?”
“I’ll be there in twenty.”
He hangs up the phone.
I hope this works.
I’m not entirely convinced that Reid is good for Maya. He hasn’t done anything in my book that merits her affection. Everyone in school knows that he and Lace are now the new it couple. A role Lace has been salivating to obtain ever since Rome kicked Addison to the curb, resulting in her losing the coveted title. I’m not sure what his deal really is where Maya is concerned, but right now, he’s my only hope.
Reid must have flown here because, in less than his promised twenty minutes, Lawrence is ushering him into our main foyer.
“Where is she?” he belts out, hurriedly taking off his winter coat while I wait at the top of the staircase.
“In my room.”
That’s all he needs to hear. He takes two stairs up at a time, flying past me. When he opens the door to my bedroom and sees Maya lying in a fetal position on my bed, his expression morphs from one of urgency to unrestrained misery.
“Oh fuck, baby,” he chokes out, marching over to her.
He cradles Maya in his embrace, bringing forth the first sign of life in Maya’s eyes.
“Reid?” she asks unbelievingly, her voice hoarse from crying all day.
“Yeah, baby, it’s me. I’m here. I’m here. I’ll never leave you. I promise. I’ll never leave you.”
She bursts into tears as he keeps repeating his words on a loop, kissing her forehead and holding her so tight, it’s a wonder she can even breathe.
I close the door to give them some privacy and go downstairs to wait for him.
