by Brown, Tara
His words mixed with the smell the cologne and scotch, wafting into my nose, making me swoon.
“Are you angry about before?” he asked. “What happened that night?”
“No!” I uttered, not wanting to talk about it. “I’m not,” I said before covering my mouth with my fingertips so delicately I could almost convince myself they were his lips brushing against me.
“I’m not either.” His gaze held mine hostage.
“Okay then. I’m glad we sorted that out. I should get back to Paige.” I tried to move, but he remained in front of me.
“I want my answer,” Lucas muttered, a wounded demeanor replacing the cocky one. “Why are you so cagey around me? Because if I did something—”
“You didn’t,” I said, exasperated enough to say something, the one thing I shouldn’t. “Look, I don’t trust either of us.” My cheeks flushed as I scrambled to repair what I’d blurted out. “You told me you liked my lipstick and came at me as though you were going to kiss me—and I can’t.”
“You can’t,” he repeated my sentence as if the words confused him.
“Ever again.” The last part slipped out but I held back everything else. The dream, my fears, my real feelings. Because deep down, it was all linked to the fact that I loved Lucas. That I had loved him forever. But I learned the hard way that he didn’t want love.
When, at long last, we ended up spending a passionate night together, I had assumed things. Foolishly. I was stupid and seventeen, and he destroyed me. Not with cruelty or intention, but with indifference and a brotherly countenance I withered under. He walked away from the night with me and acted as if it never happened, apart from the odd look. But they were glimpses and suggested regrets he didn’t dare utter.
My words sucked the wind from his sails. “You’re right.” He took a moment to process what I was saying before he nodded and lost all the emotion in his gaze. He cooled off, stepping back and agreeing. “It’s been an awful week. You can’t even imagine. I’ve seen things,” he whispered, his voice trailing off. “Maybe I’ve let the scotch go to my head again.” He furrowed his brow, staring through me. “I thought we had a moment in the hallway—but you’re right. Laertes would murder me. And then he’d send you to a convent.”
“Lucas,” I whispered, realizing I might have said too much.
“You can’t.” He paused once more before walking to the door, moving the chair and opening it a crack. “Miss Agard will be in the alley in two minutes. Take her home.” He closed the door again.
“I don’t need a ride,” I forced the words out, barely breathing through the awkwardness of this moment. It was awful. Worse than waking up alone after he snuck off. Worse than seeing him at a party a week later with a new girl on his arm. Worse than crying until there were no more tears, alone in the horse stalls of our barn. My fingers naturally drifted to the scar on my wrist, trying to rub it away.
“I insist. It’s the least I can do. My driver will come back for me.”
“That’s stupid. We can all ride together,” I said the very thing I knew not to, but Lucas was right. We had known each other our entire lives. We’d ridden in a car together a hundred times. This was not the big deal I was making it. And being the only one with feelings, I needed to chill out before he figured them out. “We’ll grab Horatio and Paige. It’ll be fine.” It was the biggest lie I’d told in a while, and not just because he and Paige in a car together would be awful. “We’ll pretend this never happened.”
“Nothing did happen.” Lucas scowled.
“Exactly.” I nodded, fighting the burn in my chest. “Did you see which way Paige and Horatio went?”
“No.” He pulled his phone out and turned it on, wincing. “He’s texted, they left. He asked me to give you a ride home.”
“Paige knows I’m going with you?” I couldn’t believe she of all people would leave me with him.
“Of course not. Horatio diverted her attention so I might sneak after you. He said she hates me for some random reason. She didn’t see me.”
I nodded, knowing the reason wasn’t so random.
“Shall we?” He offered me his arm. “Get you home before anyone notices you’re gone.” The tormented stare was dulled. The smirk, long gone. All that remained was my brother’s friend. He’d switched his charm and desire off as quickly as it had turned on, a talent I wished I had.
“Just us?” I whispered and walked forward, drowning in dread.
And as we left the club and sat in the large black SUV, staring out the tinted bulletproof windows on opposite sides, I didn’t know which way was worse. Having him, or not.
I didn’t entertain the thoughts long, and instead, distracted myself with what I would say to Paige the next time we spoke. Deciding not to wait, knowing I would ruin her night, I started texting.
Why would you leave me at the bar?
Now I’m stuck with Lucas. If I end up in his bed, I’m blaming you.
I paused.
Never mind, I won’t end up in his bed. But I’m annoyed that you left me. Super shitty thing to do. I wouldn’t have left you.
Irritated at the entire evening, I turned to the window and tried not to fixate on his reflection as the city flew by. His face drew my eyes, and all I wanted to do was turn to him.
A thousand times, I almost moved closer, reached out for him, but every moment of weakness was met with a whisper of strength. A reminder of how far I’d come and involving myself with him again would put me back in a dark place.
“O,” he muttered softly so the driver and guards wouldn’t hear.
“What?” My answer was more direct than I had wanted, but I was uncomfortable on the silent drive.
He was taciturn for a moment before he sighed. “I do really like the lipstick. It suits you. And you look nice.”
“Thanks.” I didn’t know what else to say. It was a strange statement to make in this level of tension.
“And I’m really sorry if I’ve done something to offend you. We shouldn’t have—no, I shouldn’t have—”
“It doesn’t matter now who did what.” I hated his regrets far more than my own. Although we tried to convince each other we didn’t have them, it was apparent. “It’s been years, Lucas. One wild night doesn’t change a lifetime of friendship.”
“No, it doesn’t.” He agreed and turned back to the window, his expression in the dark glass showcasing his troubled thoughts.
The hour passed painfully, silently. It was unbearable. When the SUV was near my gates, I grabbed the door handle before the driver could turn in and wake the guards. “Thank you for the ride,” I said quietly and jumped from the vehicle as it was coming to a stop. I ran to the right, avoiding the guardhouse and gate altogether.
“O, wait!” Lucas leaped out too, staring at me, swallowing a lump or maybe his words. “You might think you can’t trust us, but you can trust me. I swear. I would die before I ever hurt you.”
His confession nearly brought me to my knees. If only he knew.
“I just mean, you’re safe with me.”
We stared at each other, me terrified of what to say to that and him hoping I eased his pain.
After the initial shock, I offered something. I had to. Lucas' dad and dog had died; he needed a measure of kindness. “I’m really sorry about your dad and Romeo. And I am ashamed of how I acted, running away from you,” I muttered, wishing I’d never had the stupid dream.
“No, I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I misread something, and I shouldn’t have chased you. It was a weak moment—I was drunk and didn’t want to be alone, and I thought I saw a look.” He paused, visibly conflicted and upset with himself.
“You did.” I walked back to him, praying I could remain in control as I took his warm hand and held it. “You didn’t misread.”
“I didn’t?” Lucas lifted our hands, kissing the back of mine. I shivered from the feel of his lips.
“No. But I have to go.” My trembling hand lifted to his chest,
pushing slightly. “Goodnight.” I stepped away, taking with me varying amounts of heartache and regret, but they mixed gently with a little pride at my self-control. Perhaps that would repair some of the damage done two years ago.
“When will I see you again?” he shouted, his voice bursting with defeat.
I walked to the hedge to sneak back into the garden surrounding my parents’ estate. “Christmas, at family dinner,” I answered after a minute and disappeared behind a large tree.
When I got into the yard, I ran. Not just because I needed to be away from Lucas but because my mother and father would be furious if they knew where I’d been. And if anyone saw me sneaking into the house, it would be difficult to explain. No guards. No Paige. Who gave me a ride?
When I slipped into the office from the veranda, it wasn’t my parents I discovered. Or rather, who found me.
“I take it he’s feeling better?” Laertes asked as he switched on the office light, revealing him sitting in Father’s chair.
I froze, not sure what he meant. “Who?”
“Lucas. He left his father’s wake under the guise of not feeling well,” he hissed as he stood, stepping toward me. “You and Lucas? Is this a joke? He’s too old and too—”
“Nothing happened.” It was the truth.
“I saw you!” he snapped. “I got a text with this picture. A friend saw you and Lucas sneaking out of the ladies’ powder room at a club in New York.”
My heart sank, but I tried. “Lucas was offering to give me a ride home.”
“Don’t lie to me. I’m not Father. I don’t buy your bullshit! I can tell you’re high and drunk. I can smell it on you, and your pupils are dilated. I know you went into New York, and I know about you and Lucas. How long has this been going on—?”
“New York?” Our mother burst into the room from the dark hallway, something I might have expected as someone was always lurking outside doorways in this house. Her makeup-less face flushed with anger.
I shrank back, my fight vanishing.
“Ophelia Juliet Agard! How can you be this irresponsible? Do you have a death wish? Gallivanting with Lucas Jacobi in New York on the day of his own father’s funeral? If your father knew—or Claudius.”
The threat didn’t need to be finished. I lowered my gaze, allowing the rain of vile cruelty to pour over me. It was our song and dance: my mother would spew hatred until she’d gone too far in front of my brother, and then leave. But she wouldn’t tell my father. She spared me his rage and judgment.
“You have always been a disappointment. The child I regretted from the moment I had you. Your brother is twice the person you are. He worked hard for his grades. He earned his place at your father’s firm. And you—what are your great aspirations and accomplishments? Lying on your back and letting every man in the city have you? You know the reputation Lucas has. You’re just another notch on the prince’s belt. A notch he sneaks around with, in another city, no less. Not even a girl he wants anyone to see him with.”
My eyes didn’t raise, but I managed to sneak a peek at my brother. Laertes cringed, always the witness or the cause of my pain, usually unintentionally.
“This behavior proves you’ll end up just as I have warned you would. A big nothing, just like your friend, a lonely whore with no husband. No family. No money. You will have nothing to your name. And that would kill your father. Is that what you’re trying to do? Kill him off early to get your inheritance so you can waste it on drugs and alcohol?” she spat her words at me.
But I didn’t budge, didn’t rise to the occasion. I learned early on that obedience, even if it was just the pretense of yielding, was the fastest way for the outburst to end. Fighting back only gave my mother fuel, similar to adding dynamite to a fire.
“Do we have to revisit Doctor Horkel? Do you need another test to be sure you have been a good girl?” Her words made me cower as the memory of the virginity test when I was fourteen flashed in my mind. “You disgust me. I know this is that Paige.” My mother said Paige’s name with disdain. “Her influence over you is obvious. I forbid you to see her ever again! And I warn you, try me, child, and see where you end up. This ends tonight and don’t even think about trying the run off again. I have the guards on high alert!” She turned and stormed from the room, having done her job.
My chest tightened as the world around me shrunk, making the walls of the estate become a coffin and the yard no bigger than a closet. A claustrophobic panic ripped at me, I needed to run away—escape.
I closed my eyes and let the overwhelming agony pass over me as it always did. When I could finally breathe again, I gasped, fighting the urge to claw at my clothing and skin.
Laertes’ eyes met mine. He bit his lip, not offering the usual apology for accidentally unleashing our mother. Instead, he continued the conversation, “I told you to stay away from Lucas. I warned you, not him. Anyone but him,” he seethed, then turned, stomping away.
For half a second, I contemplated turning for the door. Running free. I could hide in New York. Start over. Find a life that was all my own.
I could see it, taste it.
Sharing an apartment with Paige.
Working in the evenings.
Satisfied with the meager existence I would have carved out alone.
Something no one could ever take from me.
The resolve died as I turned back to the French doors, catching a glimpse of my reflection in the glass. The words my mother had spoken chipped away at my confidence until I relented and made my way to my room, sure I would feel better in the morning. I never did, but the lie was enough to help me calm down. And maybe, just maybe, I would get some sleep.
Chapter 3
Wednesday, July 10
I walked down the hall, listening for anyone else in the house moving about. I’d avoided them all for days, which was more relaxed than usual, with Mother at the Jacobis’ all week, while Father and Laertes were at work. But summer holidays were afoot so being careful was harder.
As I passed Laertes’ room, I heard him shout, “How could you?”
I froze.
But a voice answered his question, “What do you mean?” Lucas asked, sounding hollow like he was on speakerphone.
“Are you kidding me?” Laertes was ready with his answer. He’d anticipated Lucas’ response. Of course, he had. Laertes was a lawyer. He had planned how this conversation would go before he called. “You fucked my sister! I asked you to not do one thing, one goddamned thing! Why her? There’s no shortage of whores, why ruin the one thing she had?” I flinched hearing it.
Lucas tried to defend us. “Brother—”
“Don’t ‘brother’ me. You have no idea what you’ve done. Ophelia’s not like us. She’s average in the looks and intelligence department.” I closed my eyes, trying not to hear it, but he was shouting so loud it was impossible not to. “She’s not some domestic goddess and she’ll never be a senator. She doesn’t have goals and hopes and aspirations, meaning she doesn’t have a lot of prospects. She had virtue. My parents have worked hard at keeping her in check. And you went and took it like the entitled bastard you are.”
His words cut me deeply. I’d never heard my brother speak so cruelly about anyone.
Lucas tried again, “None of that’s true. Ophelia's stunning and smart. Look, man, I’m having a bizarre week. I’m at some weird-ass retreat, can we have this conversation—?”
“Don’t bother. This is a new low for you.” Laertes’ voice cracked with emotion. “You lied to me, then left your father’s wake to fuck my little sister. In New York, no less. So you endangered her as well. You’re a disgusting, selfish piece of shit. My mother knows about you guys, and now O’s in huge shit. You’ve ruined her. I hope you’re happy. I hope it was worth the one fuck because let’s be honest, that’s all you’re ever down for.”
The call ended.
My heart broke, and this time it wasn’t Lucas.
I forced myself to turn around and make my way downst
airs to the kitchen. I needed a cold drink and to not be alone. Not with those words swirling about in my mind.
Fighting tears, I made my way into the bright kitchen where Deborah, our cook, anticipated my arrival and handed me a to-go mug of hot lemon water with a splash of honey. “Here you are, dear.” Her eyes were heavy with worry. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” I whispered, lying miserably.
“You’re pale as a ghost. I assume you’ve heard? About Lucas Jacobi?”
“Heard what?”
“He’s checked himself into a retreat to manage his grief. His mom told yours that he needs to take some time.” She lifted one of her thick eyebrows at me. “I assume he might be in some trouble for going to New York with you.”
I didn’t answer her.
“I heard your mother telling your father that Lucas is seeing ghosts. His father’s ghost. He’s losing it. Cracking up.” She rolled her eyes as she rambled on, “You crazy kids. And speaking of crazy, your mother said you’re to eat nothing but broth and lemon water today. I think she believes she can starve the devil out of you. I’ll sneak some food up later when everyone’s gone to bed.” She leaned in and kissed my cheek, leaving her signature smell. It was a blend of baking and cooking: onions, cinnamon, flour, and oil.
“Thank you.” Distractedly, I made my way through the posterior wing of the house where the staff quarters and back stairs were. It was quiet there.
When I reached the second floor, I walked to my cozy sitting spot. The summer rain bounced off the pane in the large window seat as I sat and stared out at the foamy sea. My mind was obsessed with what Deborah had said, even more so than what my own brother had done. Lucas was at a retreat. He was seeing ghosts.
The dream I’d had, fortunately, had not returned, but his seeing ghosts made me wonder if the stress was getting to us both. Or it was real. Death was warning us.
But of what?
Not that I had answers, I’d been cooped up in this house for days. No phone, no friends, no leaving the estate, and worst of all, no Paige. It was wearing on me.
