“It’s about your mother,” she says softly. “I… I… I know something you don’t.”
“What?” I’m getting anxious, and my fingers tighten around hers, pulling her toward me with desperation I didn’t expect from myself. “Tell me.”
“Your father, after your mother left…” She bites her bottom lip nervously. “He couldn’t handle it, so he… he made it seem like she died some years after divorcing him.”
“Made it seem like she died?” I repeat, my heart hammering in my chest. “So she’s not actually…”
“Not as far as I know,” Belle whispers, pulling her hand away from mine after I squeeze her fingers even harder. “But I don’t know where she is. All I know is that your father has got this whole town convinced she went… crazy. And then died in an asylum.”
“I… Can’t believe that,” I mutter. “How could he disrespect her that way? And how could he not tell me? She’s still out there, and she hasn’t even met me. Was Lily Anna in touch with her?”
Belle doesn’t answer, nervously biting her bottom lip as she mutters to herself, “I shouldn’t have told you. I should have taken that secret to the grave. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No, Belle,” I insist. “My father’s got you messed up. He makes you believe all the stuff he says, he makes you do stuff you should never, ever be doing… I can’t let that happen.”
I head for the door, and Belle races after me, panic setting in as she realizes what I’m about to do.
“Don’t, Miss Oakes,” she says in hurried, panicked tones. “Please don’t. Please. You don’t know what he’s capable of.”
“He had his own son beat me,” I tell her. “He is abusing your daughter, Belle. We can’t let him get away with this. I’ll never, ever forgive myself if I just stand by and watch this stuff happen.”
“Don’t,” Belle lets out a cry and grabs me by the shoulders just as I reach the door. “Miss Pandora. Please.”
It’s the first time she’s called me by that name, and it makes me stop in my tracks. I give her a questioning gaze as she lifts her hands off me, her whole body shivering as she pulls at the neckline of her blouse, undoing the buttons.
“You don’t understand what he’s capable of,” she mutters, her eyes on mine as she slowly pulls at her blouse. “You don’t know the kind of things he’d do to you – to me – if you told him what I told you.”
She finally peels back the fabric of the blouse, and I gasp when I see her skin finally exposed. It’s covered in welts and scars, the puckered skin red and angry. It looks like something boiling hot has been spilled all over her chest, which is permanently scarred not. And as if that’s not enough, her body is covered in bruises, scratches and cuts. She looks perfect in her uniform – beautiful and elegant. What lies beneath is another story altogether.
“He might not h-hurt you,” my maid stutters. “But he will hurt me and my daughter.”
“Belle, I…” I struggle with my response, digging my teeth into my lower teeth as she struggles to button the blouse back up with trembling fingers. “I can’t believe he’s done that to you. To Minnie. To me. To my mother. He’s a monster. We have to stop him.”
“We can’t.” She shakes her head, dusting her hands on her uniform once she’s done up her blouse. “Trust me, there’s nothing we can do. I tried running once, Miss Pandora. He brought me back, and I still have the marks to show for my disobedience.”
“It’s sick!” I cry out. “I can’t believe it; he’s just so fucking messed up…”
“I know things seem difficult now,” Belle says shakily. “But it will work out. I know it will. Mr. Booth’s got your back. He’s the only one that can help you. The only one your father will listen to – it was the same with Lily Anna.”
“Somehow I doubt that’s still the case,” I mutter, remembering how pissed off my father was with Dexter when he found us in Caspian’s house together. “Belle, I need to find my mother. I need to find out what happened to her, and I need to do it soon.”
“There’s someone who could help you with that,” the maid says after a moment’s pause.
“Who?”
“Easton Brantley,” Belle whispers. “He… he knows more than I do.”
“How is that possible?” I demand.
“His family helped cover it all up,” Belle goes on. “I’m sure there are records of everything kept in his father’s office. He’s your only hope, Miss Pandora.”
“We’ll see,” I say just as the door flies open and a looming, tall figure appears on my doorstep.
“Pandora,” he hisses, taking a step forward.
The room instantly feels smaller with my father in it, and my heart speeds up, panicking as I wonder whether he heard our conversation. If he did, both Belle and I are in big trouble.
“Yes?” I ask, hoping my voice doesn’t betray how nervous I am.
“I’ve spoken to Dexter Booth,” he says, the disgust plain in his voice when he says the boy’s name. “He’s an inconsiderate little prick, that boy. I don’t know why it took me this long to realize that. He’s never going to change. But he’s promised to keep…”
He glances at Belle, grimacing.
“What are you still doing here?” he roars. “Out. Right now.”
Belle scrambles to her feet and leaves the room in a hurry, leaving me alone with the beast. I’m trembling as my father advances on me, stopping only a few inches before he bumps into me.
“He’s promised to keep your secret,” he snarls in disgust. “Now we just have to make sure nobody else finds out what happened that night. You haven’t told anyone?”
“Of-of course not,” I stammer, blushing fiercely as I remember Easton’s hands wandering all over my body.
Fuck. My father can never find out about that.
“Good,” he says, the edge to his softening just a little. “That’s good. Not that it should matter now, anyway. I’ve called off your engagement to Booth.”
“You’ve… what?” I balk at him, unable to comprehend what he just told me. “We’re not engaged anymore?”
“No,” my father says simply. “It’s over. I’m going to need your ring back so I can return it to that son of a bitch who messed up everything.”
My hand trembles as he grabs it, forcing the ring off my finger. There’s already a white mark where I wore it, and I rub it self-consciously. Why is this messing me up so much? Why do I want my father to say it isn’t true? That it’s just another one of the cruel tricks he loves playing on me so much…
“So, it’s really over,” I whisper. “I’m not going to marry Dexter.”
“Not if I have anything to do with it,” he mutters. “That boy’s off-limits now, daughter. I don’t want to see you with him – not now, not ever.”
“But I-”
“No questions,” he barks at me. “Absolutely none. You’re not to spend any time with Dexter Booth anymore. Is that fucking clear?”
“Yes, father,” I whisper, my heart telling a different story.
Nine
Pandora
On the day of the equestrian show, I get dressed in an outfit I deem utterly ridiculous. Cognac-colored tall leather boots on my feet, black riding pants and a white blouse to complete the ensemble. A look in the mirror reveals I look nothing like myself, and yet, I’m strangely excited for the event.
Dexter has been a no-show all week. It bothers me, even though I hate to admit it. He hasn’t even bothered to call me since my father’s announcement that our engagement has been broken off, and I hate him for it.
At least things at Prep have been better. Audra has wisely kept her distance, and the students seem to have a newfound respect for me now that news of what happened in the classroom have made their rounds around the school.
Kelley drives me to the event, dropping me off along with Tatianna, who is wearing the most inappropriate frilly gown. But nobody dares challenge her, and she gets away with it, somehow managing to look stun
ning in the process.
“I’ll see you later,” she says nonchalantly, sauntering away the second we arrive and squashing any kind of hope I had for our sisterly bonding.
In all the time I’ve spent at the Estate so far, she’s barely shown any interest in me, which should upset me. But I’ve got enough to deal with as it without worrying about my sister and her bratty ways.
I make my way to the seating area. There’s a bunch of riders getting ready with their horses, and my eyes land on Easton moments later. He’s standing next to a chestnut horse with a white star on his forehead, wearing a jockey uniform and a helmet. He pulls it off, shaking out his hair and making my stomach flip.
There’s something about the boy that makes me excited, and there’s no denying it, as much as I want to. I wonder how different his touch would feel to Dexter’s. Whether he’d be gentle, or rough like the boy I was supposed to marry only a few days ago. I suppose I’ll never know.
Just then, Easton spots me in the bleachers, grinning wide and waving me over.
I walk up to the grassy area and he nods at me in greeting.
“Placing any bets today?” he asks me.
“I don’t have any cash,” I sigh. “All I have is my father’s credit card.”
“Here.” He passes me a hundred-dollar bill. “Bet on me. Easton Brantley with Aquamarine.”
“Thanks.” I grin wide, taking the money and making a mental note to find a bookie later. “You nervous?”
“Not really,” he smirks.
“Not much competition?”
“Oh, there’s competition alright,” he mutters, motioning to a figure who’s attending to his black horse.
“Is that… Brazen?” I narrow my eyes at the sight of my brother.
“You didn’t know?” Easton asks, and I shake my head. “He’s the reigning champion. Although he won’t be after tonight.”
“You seem confident,” I smile, and he shrugs.
“Gotta be if I want to win.”
An older woman calls Easton over, and he winks at me before walking away. I make my way back to the bleachers, finding the guy who’s handling the bets today and handing over the money Easton gave me. An unfamiliar rush trickles down my spine, and it feels good. It’s a beautiful day, with no other Firstborns in sight. I’m determined to have fun today.
Once I’m back in the bleachers, the event begins. I briefly steal a glance at my sister, who’s giggling while some Secondborns from Prep surround her. She really does know how to wrap those boys around her fingers.
The event takes hours, and after the first one, I’m bored out of my mind. But luckily Easton’s only in the morning part of the event, and by the time noon rolls around, he’s the clear winner.
I accept my winnings – one thousand two hundred – from the bookie with a bright smile, and race to meet Easton after he’s done with his horse.
“You were amazing!” I tell him, genuinely impressed. “Brazen’s going to be pissed!”
“You seem oddly excited about that,” Easton grins, and I snicker.
“Let’s just say I’m not my brother’s biggest fan,” I mutter.
I still haven’t forgiven him for the prank he pulled on me.
“Hey, do you want to grab some lunch?” Easton asks. “You don’t have to head straight back home, do you?”
I shake my head. When I told my father about the event, he seemed to assume I’ll be going for the whole day, like Tatianna is. Which gives me at least another couple of hours.
“Great,” Easton smiles wide. “The country club’s serving lunch in about twenty. Meet me there after I get changed? Just tell them you’re with Master Brantley.”
“Master?” I repeat, raising my brows at him.
“They’re old fashioned here,” he shrugs, then a devious grin overtakes his face. “Though I can’t say I don’t love the idea of you calling me that.”
I wave him off and head for the country club. In the gorgeous bathroom, I quickly apply some powder to my face and add a spritz of the perfume I’ve got in my bag.
I lean against the pink marble sink with both hands, scrutinizing my reflection in the ornate mirror. Heaving a deep sigh, I wonder when Dexter’s going to come storming back into my life. It feels weird not wearing his ring anymore. It feels weirder to know he took my virginity and has since then dropped off the face of the planet.
But today isn’t about Dexter Booth at all – it’s about Easton.
I splash some water on my face and attempt to fix up my hair before leaving the powder room and heading into the dining area. Tables are being set up by uniform-clad waiters, and when I give the hostess Easton’s name, she nods instantly and walks me over to the table that’s the best seat in the house. There’s a gorgeous view of the horses running free behind the building, and you can see everyone in the restaurant from these seats, which are slightly raised, ensuring every guest will know you’re there.
I settle on my chair and wait patiently as the room begins filling up with men twice or three times my age. They shoot me curious glances, and I shift uncomfortably in my seat until my eyes finally land on Easton looking almost unbearably handsome in chinos and a dress shirt.
He grins at me, walking over confidently and greeting several people on his way. I’m impressed. Dexter may be more important in this town, but it seems as if Easton knows everyone here.
He slides into the seat opposite of me, holding up a finger when I’m about to speak and expertly ordering us drinks and food from our waiter, who nods with appreciation at the boy’s choice. Normally I wouldn’t be into the idea of choosing for me, but Easton leans across the table, smiling wide at me.
“I think you’ll enjoy what I picked for you,” he says, and I smile in return. “So. Did you collect your winnings?”
“I did.” I reach into my bag to pull out the money, but Easton stops me, laying a palm over my hand gently.
“You don’t have to,” he murmurs. “Keep it.”
“But it’s your money,” I argue. “At least let me give you the hundred bucks back.”
“Keep it,” he shrugs. “For the pleasure of your company today.”
“I’d like to think that’s worth a bit more,” I tease, and he laughs out loud, winking at me.
This isn’t bad at all. I’m kind of enjoying myself. As the waiter presents us with the country club’s famous homemade iced tea and our entrees, I dig in, having worked up an appetite from spending all morning long in the sun.
Easton chats to me easily, talking about his experience in Switzerland, while greeting more acquaintances who walk into the club as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. He’s kind, sweet and caring, and once the dishes arrive, I’m pleasantly surprised to realize I really do love his choices.
“These tortellini are amazing,” I mutter with my mouth full.
Easton seems amused by my lack of manners, even though I blush when I realize I must look a barbarian.
“Try mine,” he offers. “The steak here is fantastic.”
He cuts up a small piece of meat, offering it to me on his fork. I hesitate, unsure whether I should be doing something so intimate, especially in a public place like this. Dexter already told me he has eyes everywhere, and I sure as hell don’t want this getting back to him.
But something switches inside me, and I smile at Easton, leaning forward and taking the bite off his fork. I chew the food, loving the rock salt on my tongue and complimenting my lunch date on yet another great choice. I can feel everyone’s eyes on us as we get back to our meal.
“So,” I start nervously, knowing I have to get to the point. “I heard you know everyone. And everything.”
“Yeah?” He laughs. “Who thinks I’m so wise and capable?”
“My maid, Belle,” I mutter, waving my hand dismissively. “But that’s not what’s important, I… I was hoping you could help me find someone.”
“Who?” he asks, his brows shooting up curiously.
“My m
other,” I whisper.
Easton gives me a long, hard look before setting his cutlery on his plate. “You know about her…?”
“I know she’s not dead,” I hiss in response, shaking my head with a sigh. “Sorry, I just… still can’t believe he knew she wasn’t and fed me those lies this whole time.”
“He’s not the only one who knows,” Easton mutters. “There were a couple of us.”
“A couple?” I ask him.
“My father, Emilian Oakes, obviously – and Dexter’s father. I don’t know whether he ever told his son.”
“But why wouldn’t Dexter tell me the truth?” I demand.
“Have you ever seen him do anything that wasn’t directly for his benefit?” Easton asks, tapping his lips with a napkin. “Nah, Booth doesn’t care about any of that. All he wants is to get his way. Like he always did.”
My mouth purses and Easton appears to notice, regarding me with quiet curiosity as I pick at my meal. I seem to have lost my appetite.
“I could find her for you, you know,” he says, and my eyes glance up. “Your mother.”
“You’d be willing to do that?” I ask.
“If you do something for me,” he smirks at me.
Of course, I think to myself. What else was I expecting? He’s a Firstborn, after all. All they do is play fucking mind games.
“What do you want?” I ask him.
“A kiss.” He grins at me wickedly. “I want to see what all the fuss is about. Besides, it seems as if everyone else has had a taste already… why shouldn’t I? You won’t deny me the pleasure, will you, beautiful Pandora?”
I can feel myself blushing as I swallow thickly, staring at my half-empty plate.
“I’m waiting,” he tells me, giving me a lopsided grin. “I don’t have all day.”
“Fine,” I mutter, my heart beating into overdrive.
Fuck. What have I gotten myself into?
“Perfect,” Easton says, obviously satisfied with my answer. “I’ll get you as much information about your mother as I can this coming week. Are you done with your meal?”
A Hurt So Sweet Volume Two: A Dark High School Bully Romance Page 8
