Ophelia

by Brown, Tara

  The door I rested against opened, and a large body slammed into mine, pushing and catching all in the same movement. I stumbled, but the person who had shoved through grabbed me.

  “O, what are you doing standing behind the door?” Laertes asked gruffly as he helped me stand back up. “Oh, you’ve ripped your skirt. Don’t let Mother see, she’s foul enough today.”

  “I—I—you ripped it. Watch where you’re going!” I shoved my older brother and hurried past him through the entrance. My body begged to go back, pleaded for the chance to feel Lucas inside me once more.

  But if my heart had been able to sigh relief, it would have as I made my way across the room, taking another glass of champagne from a tray and sipping casually.

  The middle of the room was packed with people.

  Sanctuary.

  Paige Santoro, my best friend, smiled wide, waving me over, until the second our eyes locked. Then she narrowed her gaze and glanced behind me suspiciously. Paige knew. Of course, she knew.

  “Did you meet him in the bathroom?” she asked rudely as I got close enough to hear her.

  A few faces turned around, sneering. Paige sneered back.

  “Shhhh, no,” I hushed her and spun her away from the crowd, forcing her to walk to the veranda. The air was muggy and stale, July was humid. Not quite as bad as our neighbors in New York City, but nearly. New Denmark was more exposed to the ocean air, and being a touch farther north was in the city’s favor.

  “Why do you look like you let Lucas have you for an appetizer?” Paige folded her thin, pale arms over her borrowed black dress. “You’re flushed, and your dress is ripped.”

  “Laertes pushed me. It doesn’t matter, I saw Lucas for a second, that’s all,” I confessed. “But then I ran away.” I laughed, though it resembled a sob, which was how it felt.

  “Oh, thank God. I seriously thought for sure we were back to square one.” She took my drink and then my hand, flipping it over to expose a pale wrist. Neither of us spoke, instead we stared at the mark, a single puncture. A place I had once made a choice, the wrong one even if it felt like the only one at the time. The sweet anguish of the moment washed over me again, but I was stronger now. I breathed through it, letting my mind reason with my body.

  After a second, I pulled my hand back, rubbing the tiny scar on my dress as if to erase it. “I’m fine. Nothing happened.”

  “You need to stay away from him. Anyway, let’s get the hell outta here and go get drunk before your weird house fire dream comes true!” Her eyes darted around the room, mocking me.

  “I can’t just leave. It’s a funeral, Paige.” Her response was precisely why I’d been told not to bring Paige in the first place. “Mother will be livid."

  “She’s already seen me.” Paige rolled her eyes dramatically. “I’m sure she expects us to do something rebellious. She’s been glaring at me all afternoon.”

  “You’re mistaken,” I said with a grin. “Mother Dearest doesn’t have any other expression. Fake smiles and wicked glares, that’s it.” I glanced in her direction, noting the scowl on her face when her eyes met mine. I’d seen nothing from her but glares for weeks. Ever since I tried to convince my father to let me go to Brown University. I had visions of escaping New Denmark and our family. Paige went to Brown on scholarship, so we might have lived together. And for once, I could have had a real college experience—no bodyguards or political nonsense. Just me and my best friend and a city of people who didn’t know me.

  “Oh my God, is that him? From last night?” Paige changed the subject as her gaze drifted to the handsome man standing near my father. I knew what she was talking about.

  “That’s him,” I whispered, not fixing my stare there in case we might make eye contact.

  “I can’t believe your mom has the brass balls to dare to bring some random dude for dinner, hinting that you should marry him.” She kept her voice low, thankfully.

  “Reynaldo isn’t random. He’s the new lawyer at my father’s firm. His parents are incredibly wealthy and connected. My mother’s preferred attributes.” I scoffed. “And she was just threatening me. She wants something but I haven’t figured out what it is yet.”

  “He seems a bit young to be wife shopping.” Paige raised a dark eyebrow.

  “Oh, he’s not, he’s nine years older than we are, certainly old enough. Though I wouldn’t say that’s old enough.” I leaned in for the next part so no one would hear, though we were far enough away that the closest ears would have to strain. “But that’s not the only reason he isn’t interested in me, if you get my point.”

  “You should set him up with Laertes.”

  “Shhhhh.” I lifted a finger to my lips. “That sort of talk isn’t allowed in these parts.”

  “I feel sad for your brother.”

  “I feel sad for us all,” I lamented.

  “We should just run away, O. You could live with me.” She linked her arm in mine. “As for tonight, I’m not taking no for an answer. We’re leaving. Just make it look like a casual stroll through the overly manicured gardens.” She chuckled and walked us to the stairs and down into the gardens at Elsinore, the palace-style mansion where the Jacobi crime family had maintained their stronghold for a hundred years or more.

  Unsure I should go, but already walking, I glanced back at the roomful of people, my family, expectations, a life I didn’t want. I caught a glimpse of him through one of the windows. Lucas was with a crowd. They were speaking to him but he was staring at me. He was so beautiful it pained me to look at him.

  The hurt in his eyes was agonizing. But nonetheless, I chose Paige and walked away, following the scent of lilacs into the garden. I didn’t turn back to the estate, confident if I did, my mind would play tricks, and for a moment, I would relive the dream. Elsinore would be on fire and he would die. And I couldn’t live with that. His death above them all, my entire family, was the one I couldn’t live through.

  But what could I do? Run into the mansion, screaming about a dream and a psychic?

  Paige led us down another set of stairs, rambling on, “If we ran now and you moved in with me, we could get some bunk beds from a secondhand store.” She grinned wide. “But I get the top bunk.”

  “The bottom bunk is better, anyway. You can put up curtains and add twinkly lights and make it a small room.”

  “Then I want the bottom bunk!” She giggled and nudged me. “How about instead of running away tonight, we simply escape a little? I heard Fortinbras is having a party in New York, at Club Norway. That new club in the Europa building by the park.”

  Part of me knew to say no, but my parents would linger here until quite late. And the guards had been too busy watching the criminals in suits. They hadn’t noticed I was leaving the grounds. Meaning I was free for the night. It wouldn’t be the first time I turned location services off and texted my mother late to say I was sleeping at Paige’s mom’s, and it would be accurate.

  I shrugged nonchalantly at Paige as if it were nothing. “All right. But we have to get my fake ID from your mom’s house before we go. There’s no way I can use Ophelia Agard to party in New York. My parents would find out too easily.”

  “Yeah, fine,” Paige muttered as she fished her cigarettes from her purse and walked toward the woods. “I’m glad I parked over here. No valet to rat us out to your guards.” She lit a cigarette and took a long drag before holding it out.

  “No, thanks. And I’ll drive. You’ve had too much to drink.” I gave her a disappointed glare as I took her keys from her loose grip.

  “I drive better after a few drinks, we both know it.”

  “We don’t know it, and I’ve asked you to stop doing it. You promised me.” I offered another stern glance. “Besides, I’m sneaking into a rival city where my family’s enemies live. I can’t risk getting pulled over before we get out of New Denmark.” I teased and hurried for the edge of the forest where Paige’s beater car was parked on the side of the road.

  Paige was my
one vice, the one thing I wasn’t allowed to have but managed to sneak anyway. She made everything else normal. Including me.

  Chapter 2

  The music in Club Norway matched my heartbeat as I danced, a feeling I focused on more than usual, thanks to the absinthe martinis we drank upon arriving. I kept the lens-less glasses and wig on, hoping no one would recognize me with this little of a disguise. Being connected to the Jacobi family was a bad thing in Prince Fortinbras’ territory. Though we hoped the funeral of the Jacobi king meant there would be a short truce if I were exposed, even if being here under the threat of discovery was a bit exciting.

  Not only was Fortinbras gorgeous and young, a vast contrast to either King Hamlet or his brother, but he was about to become the crowned monarch of New York. His father had recently died and he was being sworn in soon.

  I’d heard he was a breath of fresh air to the younger crowds, reasonable and modernized. He wanted peace with New Denmark. Sometimes, in my darkest moments, I contemplated moving here and trading sides in the never-ending crime wars. New York had better night clubs to offer and a thriving young populace.

  New Denmark was more prosperous with better country clubs and restaurants, neither of which interested college girls. It was old money and old people.

  It was fortunate Paige’s family lived in both cities, her mom in one and her dad in the other, a fact I kept from everyone. It made it possible for Paige and me to party in New York enough that I was convinced more every time I came that I should live here. But giving up my entire family would be a major decision I wasn’t ready to make.

  “This DJ is amazing!” Paige screamed over the music, bringing a smile to my lips.

  I nodded as we moved to the beat.

  After a few minutes, Paige gestured excitedly. “He’s here!”

  “Who’s here?” I peered around nervously.

  “Horatio.”

  “You invited him?” I tried not to sound disappointed.

  “I might have mentioned it to him. Anyway, he’s over there. At the bar. I just got a text. He said he can see me.” Paige grabbed my hand and led me into the crowd, dancing us across the massive warehouse stuffed with young people at varying stages of intoxication. I hadn’t seen Fortinbras yet, fortunately. The absinthe was hitting harder than I had expected. The room shifted with the flashing lights and deafening music, moving as if we were on a party boat.

  Paige let go of my hand when she saw Horatio, rushing over and leaping into his arms. I leaned against the bar and watched them with my gaze fixed, a disapproving sneer across my face. Horatio’s hands crept down her back, reaching.

  His hands paused when his eyes lifted, seeing me. He straightened and set Paige back on the floor, making me feel as if I were some sort of chaperone. Horatio nodded, greeting me with the indifference one expected from their brother’s friends. He was always a perfect gentleman in my presence. In the flashing lights and loud music, we had a silent conversation, one where he lectured me for being in New York, and I discussed my dislike of his treatment of my friend.

  When Paige moved to get drinks, he offered a sly smile and held his hands out. I waited a moment before relenting and walking to his embrace. “Stop giving me the stink eye, O,” he muttered into my hair as he offered up a brotherly hug.

  “Stop living up to the expectations I have of all my brother’s friends,” I couldn’t fight the grin as I said it.

  “You’re such a brat. You shouldn’t be here.” He stepped back, shaking his head. His eyes flickered to the right, and in them I saw something, regret perhaps. I followed, finding something unexpected waiting, or rather emerging from the crowd.

  A man wearing dark sunglasses watched us with familiarity. He cracked a grin, and my blood froze as my heart stopped.

  That smirk.

  One I would know anywhere.

  I swallowed the lump forming in my throat and glanced back at Horatio. “I’ve got to go to the ladies’ room.” I pushed past him and hurried away, seeing Paige staring from the bar.

  The hallway was jam-packed with people, lines for the toilets, and entourages accompanying their friends. Maneuvering through them all wasn’t easy, but being small, I made my way to the ladies’ powder room. My breath hitched in my chest as I leaned against the wall, too drunk to manage this moment.

  Lucas Jacobi again?

  Was God testing me?

  My mind did laps. Did Horatio know about us? I only ever told Paige and assumed Lucas wouldn’t tell anyone; his closest friends were also my brother’s closest friends. Their circle was small and tight-knit. God, what would I do if Laertes found out? He’d forbidden one person, only one.

  How could Lucas be that stupid?

  And then to come to New York with Horatio?

  My stare shot to the door as it banged open, a couple of girls staggered in, laughing and clinging to one another.

  On unsteady feet, I made my way to the makeup tables and sat on one of the cushioned stools, trying to catch my breath and sober up.

  Paige hadn’t followed me in, which meant she was either strangling Lucas on the floor of the club or getting angry with Horatio for bringing him.

  I listened for the door, or rather for my friend, but she didn’t come. The drunk girls left, slamming the door again. I didn’t jump, but my spine tingled with awareness a moment later when the door opened a second time. It closed carefully, then something dragged along the concrete floor. Someone was with me and didn’t want the door to open.

  I leaned to the right, past the wall that hid the entrance, recoiling when I saw his back. Lucas was pushing a large chair up against the door to trap us in.

  “Shit,” I whispered and waited, not sure what to do.

  A moment later, he shouted blindly, “O, can we talk?”

  I twitched when he called me O, a childhood nickname that always made me feel like his little sister too. “You shouldn’t be in here,” I answered back sharply, speaking before thinking about how that sounded.

  “I know. I’ve been telling myself that for the last five minutes.” Lucas scowled as he came around the corner, moving in a way to suggest he was still inebriated, something he must have maintained all day.

  The moment our eyes met, that suggestive gleam flashed across his face. My body tingled with expectations, and not all were against this.

  “I’ll sit here. It’s better for us both,” he offered as he sat on the stool and leaned back, putting his body on display in his bespoke charcoal dress pants and white collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He and Laertes worked out more than anyone else I knew and it paid off. He ran his hands through his dark hair, then folded his arms over his chest, showcasing his muscled forearms. The hint of a tattoo poked out the bottom of the sleeve, one I’d never seen before.

  I hated that he was changing and I didn’t know—I wasn’t part of it. He was growing up and becoming a man, while I pictured myself as a thirteen-year-old girl pining over him. But the truth was, I avoided him to protect myself.

  “Hi.” He smiled, illuminating his handsome face.

  I allowed a moment to take it all in and appreciate the perfection before me. Square jaw, a subtle dimple in his chin, lips that had been too big on his face when he was a boy but now brought back memories of them against my own. His eyes were pools of honey in the light but dark and mysterious in the shadows, framed by thick, inky lashes.

  His broad smile lowered into his smug grin, killing me softly. “Is this a happy accident meeting up like this twice in one day, or fate?”

  “Fate?” His choice of words tugged at my heart. “What are you even doing in New York?” I nearly shouted, tense from fighting the urges I was overcome with. “Your mom will kill you if she finds out you’re here.”

  “My mom has other things on her mind.” He paused and cocked his head a little, narrowing his gaze. “Why’d you run away at the wake? And just now?” His stare was weighted with burden and alcohol. “You looked upset. Did I do something?”
>
  “Did you come all this way to ask me that?”

  “No, of course not, I didn’t know you would be here. I wouldn’t have come if I knew you were.” His answer killed me. The death was tiny and minor compared to the other wounds he’d inflicted over the years. “I came with Horatio. He didn’t mention his friend who invited him was Paige.” He scoffed as though he should have known. “But now that I’m here, and you’re here, I have to know why you’re angry with me?” he asked softly, his tone hinting the worry he felt.

  “I’m not. Of course, I’m not. It’s your father’s wake. How could I be angry? It’s just that—” I wanted to answer honestly and tell him about the dream and the painting, but I was terrified of him thinking me crazy.

  “What?”

  “You said you liked my lipstick.” The lie was not making it better. It was turning the conversation sexual, reminding him of the comment and the stare.

  “I do—I like your lipstick. Red suits your pale skin. It brings a blush to your cheeks,” Lucas’ eyes focused on my mouth again. But I wasn’t falling for it, his words about not coming to this bar if he’d known I was here stung.

  “I have to go.” I jumped up, swaying slightly.

  “You can barely stand.” Lucas stood but kept his hands in front as though surrendering to me.

  “Neither can you!”

  “I know. That’s why I’m in here—like an idiot. O, just let me help you get home,” he pleaded.

  “No.” I was firm but smiled politely while attempting to maintain the firmness. “I have a ride, thank you.”

  “Who?” He stepped closer, disregarding my resolve. He was too close, smelling too much like bad choices and pheromones. “You can’t possibly mean Paige. She’s in no state to drive.”

  “I can get—”

  “I’ve known you your whole life, Ophelia. Why are you acting like I’m some sort of stranger trying to lure you into the car with candy?” He moved closer again, this time really was too close. The heat from his body touched mine and he whispered, “Because I’d think you knew me better than anyone.”