by T. L Smith
Copyright T.L Smith 2020
My Beautiful Poison by T.L Smith
All Rights Reserved
This ebook is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, real people, and real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the Author’s imagination and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, organizations or places is entirely coincidental.
All rights are reserved. This book is intended for the purchaser of this book ONLY. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the express written permission of the Author. All songs, song titles and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.
Created with Vellum
Contents
Blurb
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
About the Author
Also by T.L. Smith
Blurb
I forgave him for the lies he told.
And I forgave him for breaking my body with his touch.
But I couldn't forgive myself for staying.
Until I met you… my antidote.
I knew I couldn't keep forgiving him, when I could be safe in your arms.
With your touch, there were no tears.
With your kisses, I could finally breathe.
You might be the villain in everyone's story...
But not mine.
Chapter 1
Rylee
My lip is bleeding. It tastes—I lick it again—sweet. I like the taste. Is that weird? I had heard it’s meant to have a metallic taste. But mine, well, it’s sweet. Maybe it’s the only thing about me that is sweet.
My fingers touch the edges of my lips. The bleeding is slowing, but the throbbing intensifies.
“Fuck, Rylee, really?”
My hand drops away from my busted lip as I glance up at him.
He’s shaking his head, his blond hair barely moving with all the product he uses. “See what you made me do? Fuck!” He swipes his face with his hand and stares at me with emotionless eyes.
How could I have been so blind to those eyes for so long?
“You should leave…” I somehow manage to whisper then lick my lips—I can still taste the sweetness of my blood.
He tries to touch me again, but I step back dramatically.
“Leave, Anderson,” I say with more force.
He shakes his head and scrubs his face again.
Really? How many times does he plan to do that? Doesn’t he know by touching his face he’s spreading germs?
“Rylee, come on…”
Sidestepping him, I open my bedroom door. “You better leave before I scream.” I blink a few times and then glare. “If you don’t, I’ll kick you where I know the sun doesn’t shine.”
Anger rolls between his brows while his hands tighten into fists. “You need to watch your mouth,” he grates out through gritted teeth, his voice hard and unrelenting.
“Ha,” I bark out, shaking my head. “Last strike.” I point to my face and then the door. “Now, leave and don’t come back.”
Anderson takes a step in my direction then leans down so his face is close to mine. “They would never believe you over me. And even if they did, they won’t care. All they want is for you to marry me.” He smirks and steps toward the door. He lifts his hand, and I hold my flinch in as he grips the door handle. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Rylee.”
I watch him step out the door and down my parents’ stairs, saying goodbye to them as he leaves.
I hate him.
What I ever saw in him, I’ll never know.
It’s hard, but I need to get out of this house. My parents expect and want so much from me. Sometimes, I wish I had followed my sister, Rhianna, when she escaped the family business. To be honest, I don’t know why I didn’t leave with her. Perhaps it wasn’t the right time, but now regret chips away at my heart every single day. Every single minute. How do you combat what you want with what is right for you?
With a hard push, I close the door and then slide down its surface. My hands cover my face as I draw my knees up under my chin.
I’ve been dating Anderson since high school. He was the popular football player, and I was the good little rich girl.
Our parents couldn’t be more pleased with our relationship. Fuck, they’re already planning our wedding and I’m only twenty-three.
I don’t want to get married this young, and especially not to him.
Anderson has his good days, but he has far too many bad ones. And let’s be quite serious here, I don’t want any days with him.
I hear footsteps approach my door, and I know who it is straight away.
“Ry, tell me you’re okay?” my little brother whispers, his concern floating to me through the closed door.
“I’m fine, Beckham. I’ll see you in the morning,” I tell him with the strongest voice I can muster.
He waits.
He always does.
He’s the only one who understands what Anderson is like, and he hates him for it. But, more importantly, he detests that I won’t leave him, and he can’t grasp the concept of why I stay. It makes him crazy angry, but I can’t seem to muster the energy to do what I know is right.
It’s the pressure.
The pressure from my family is simply too much.
My father takes care of the accounts of some of the wealthiest people in Australia, and that extends to the rest of the world. I’m his only child who’s willing to, or even interested in, taking over the family business. I work with Father now, understanding the basics, as I have finally finished my degree in accounting. And soon, I will run it all. Which makes me happy. I like what I do—numbers and money makes me happy. I like to organize and find the number’s rightful place then fix any problems that arise in handling the accounts.
Plus, I’m good at it.
Really good.
My sister is what you’d call a free spirit. She’s never done well listening to rules and prefers to travel and live her life the way she wants—carefree and easy-going. My brother is a football star. Even at his young age of sixteen, we all know he’s going places.
So that leaves me, Rylee Harley, twin sister to Rhianna Harley and older sister to Beckham, to fill the spot that’s left open. Our parents want to retire, live a life of luxury, which my father deserves. He is one of the hardest workers I know. Dedicated. Loyal. Committed.
I do adore them both, no matter what others think.
Even if my mother is overbearing, she’s still my mother.
It’s all about the pressure.
The pressure to be perfect.
And this crushes my spirit and steals pieces of me every day.
Anderson is right at the top of the list of pressure.
&nb
sp; I did love him, once.
He’s handsome, all the women want him, and I can’t blame them. Anderson comes from money, is athletic, and could charm the panties right off you. Which was what he did to me.
I didn’t win any popularity contests in school like my sister. I kept my head down and was studious.
Until Anderson.
Then everyone knew who I was.
I was no longer Rhianna’s quiet twin sister. I was Rylee, Anderson’s girlfriend, and I have been for way too long.
My phone beeps, and I know immediately who it is. My head swings in that direction and I watch as it lights up, then goes dark. In exactly one minute, it’ll do it again. I watch, waiting. And like clockwork, it does just that. Lights up again.
Now, he’s apologizing.
And I will not read his texts.
I don’t want to read them.
Anderson set up my phone to show him when I read his messages, so he’ll know I haven’t. It’s just another way for him to control me.
And another way I let him.
Today wasn’t the first time he’s hit my face. He’s usually careful not to leave a mark like he’s done today, though. I lick my lip and still taste the blood lingering there.
I never thought I would be one of those girls, but here I am.
Staring at my phone from across the room, I and wishing it would disappear, I can’t stand to think about his fake apologies that lay on it.
Taking a deep breath, I shake my head and stand. Reaching for my phone, I don’t open the messages like he wants me to. Instead, I walk it to my bathroom and fill the bathtub. I watch as the water stills when I turn the faucet off and then I smile as the phone slips from my hand and drops into the crystal-clear water.
Tomorrow is the day I start living for me.
Or so I keep telling myself.
Chapter 2
August
My fingers tap on the table that my hands are cuffed to, and my leg bounces, unable to move or go anywhere unless I figure out a way to cut my fucking hands off. I wait for him to arrive—the only person left who has an ounce of faith in me, apart from my baby sister.
Why? Well, I’m still trying to work that out.
The loud noise doesn’t make me jump anymore as they open the doors behind me. His expensive shoes come into view, and I glance up to Noah, who offers me a smile as he takes a seat across from me. His eyes drop to my chained hands then he glances over to the guard.
“Undo his hands,” he snaps. “Now.”
The guard does as he asks, and my wrists are freed.
Noah flips through his paperwork and slides something across the table to me.
“This is your grandmother’s will.” I scrunch my face as I scan the document. “She left you the house,” Noah states.
My grandmother died over four years ago. Why am I only now hearing about this? “From the look on your face, it seems your last lawyer conveniently forgot to disclose any of this to you.”
He guessed right.
“My grandmother hated me,” I tell him. She was always telling me to get my act together and do something with my life, or I would turn out like my deadbeat mother.
Perhaps she was right.
“Yeah, well… it seems she loved you, regardless.”
“Paige?” I ask.
My little sister has a good father. He knew our mother was scum and took her away early, leaving me to clean up the mess my mother created. And my father? Well, I don’t even know who he is and couldn’t care less, either.
“She’s doing well. Your grandmother left her a car. Which I’m sure Paige has told you in her letters.”
Paige is almost sixteen, and in her letters, she’s told me how excited she is to start driving. She’s asked to visit me, but that’s not an option. This isn’t somewhere she should frequent. Not ever.
“I have some other news for you, August.” Noah closes the folder in front of him and leans back in his chair. His eyes flick to the guard, then back to me. “You’ll be released tomorrow. The judge approved your appeal.”
His words don’t register.
I don’t understand them.
I simply stare at him, as if he’s grown a second head.
Because that would never happen. I’m only six years into a long sentence and not once has any of my appeals even been heard.
Yet, here’s Noah, a man I hardly know, who has become my one and only friend, telling me I am finally going to be free.
I rub the stubble on my jaw and eye him. “You’re lying.”
“Do I seem like a man who lies, August?”
No. Noah has never lied to me. No matter how hard the truth may have been, he has always given it to me straight. “I had a cleaner go around to your grandmother’s today, seeing as no one has been living there for all this time.”
I can’t even come up with the words to thank him. So, all I do is nod my head.
“I’ll be back tomorrow to pick you up.” Noah stands, gathering his things. He strolls to the door, but I stay where I am, still in shock. “August…” he says my name, and I check over my shoulder, “… don’t fuck this up. They’ll be eager to throw you straight back in here the first chance they get.”
It’s more than obvious, and I know they’ll be looking for me to fuck up. The same way they easily threw me in here. Trash is what they said when they caught and tossed me into the back of the cop car.
“Noah,” I say. “I owe you one.”
“You owe me nothing,” he says, then continues on his way out the door.
I grip my hair.
Fuck.
Free.
I never thought this day would come.
Destined to end up in here, I was nothing more than a street thug. My mother always said so. So when it finally happened, I wasn’t all that surprised.
But getting out now, because of a man I hardly know who chose to fight for me?
It’s a fucking miracle.
Chapter 3
Rylee
It’s been two days, and I have managed to avoid Anderson. Not once have I seen nor heard from him. It helps that my phone is still lying at the bottom of my bathtub, never to work again.
Rhianna steps into my office, dressed in her work outfit, which consists of shorts and a shirt, and the apron she usually wears is wrapped around her small waist. Her long, dark hair is tied up on her head while mine is in a half-up, half-down ponytail. Her dark, almost black eyes, that mirror mine, stare at me.
Identical. In almost every way, physically.
Twins. With two uniquely different personalities.
Best friends. For all the right reasons.
My ride-or-die.
“Noah is celebrating tonight. I wanted to see if you would come.” My eyes go to the pile of paperwork in front of me. I use it as an excuse. Often. Especially to Anderson.
“I…” Rhianna shakes her head before I can even finish getting my first word out.
“Don’t forget I know you. Like, really know you. So don’t even try to use that shit in front of you as an excuse,” Rhianna says, her hands lifting and pulling her hair out of its bun as she watches me. “All you have time for now is Anderson and work. News flash…” she waves her hands around dramatically, “… I am way more important than both.”
I smirk at her words. Because they’re true. Oh so true.
“I can dress you,” she offers with a smile.
I shake my head. “It’s fine. I’ll head home soon and get changed.”
“I’ve been trying to call you. Why is your phone switched off?”
“I drowned it,” I reply with a smirk.
Her eyes go wide. “Should I ask?”
I shrug my shoulders. “Probably not. I have ordered a new one and should get it tomorrow. I’ll send you the number.” She stands, putting her bag over her shoulder and then across her body. “How’s Noah?” I ask. It’s her first real relationship. He’s older than us and an incredibly successful businessman.
A smile touches her lips at the mention of his name. “He’s good. Really good. I plan to marry that man.”
“I’m glad he makes you happy.”
She goes still at my words, ambles around my desk, and leans down. “You need to find someone who makes you happy, too. Clearly, Anderson is not that man.”
He isn’t, and I am well aware of that fact.
“I’m working on it,” I reply truthfully. And I am. All that’s been running through my head is how I plan to break it off with Anderson officially. Only it’s not just him I have to tell, it’s my parents too. They have already planned our massive wedding, and we aren’t even engaged.
“If you do it and need me to be the insolent child to take the heat off of you, I got ya.” She winks.
I laugh because I know she’s telling the truth. She has no problem with disappointing our parents, especially our mother. Where, for some reason, it physically makes me ill to do so.
“Seven?” I ask.
She kisses my cheek before she walks out of my office, telling me, “Yes,” as she leaves.
Anderson’s car was in my driveway when I pulled in, so I reversed straight back out and drove to Rhianna’s, knowing she wasn’t going to be home. Stepping straight into her closet, I retrieve an outfit and get ready. Luckily for me, we’re the exact same size, but we don’t dress the same. I do have a few pieces of clothing hanging in her closet for emergencies, and tonight definitely qualifies as an emergency. However, I don’t choose one of my dresses. Instead, I go for something different.
