by Ivy Fox
“Let’s get out of here,” Ollie hushes beside me, leaning his body into my side so I can haul us both out of this fucking joint.
I slide Ollie into the back seat so he can lie down and get his shit together, while I take the helm, as my designated-driver twin should have done the night before. My brother is not a lightweight at all, but he likes to have his wits about him at all times, so he’s not usually known to pound back alcohol like he did last night. I guess he just wanted to kill as many brain cells as possible—ones that were ingrained with memories of the girl who stabbed us in the back.
I pull up into a gas station to get some water and hot coffee so we can snap out of this hazy funk. Luckily, they’re stocked with Advil too, so I pop two brown pills and chug the cool water down my parched throat, thanking the heavens for small mercies. The coffee, however, tastes like mud, and after only one swig I throw both cups in the trash without making my brother endure such horrid lush.
“Thanks,” Ollie mumbles after I hand him a bottle of water and the pills.
“Don’t mention it,” I tease, ruffling his light-brown hair like I would with a golden retriever.
He slaps my hand away, straining to look up at me from the back seat.
“So where exactly are we supposed to be at eight in the morning? I’d rather just go home, take a shower, and sleep the whole day away, if you don’t mind,” Ollie moans, running his fingers through his disheveled hair.
“That can wait. First, I need to see something for myself. You do, too,” I hiss out, and my brother’s half-cast lids open up to their full extent.
“I don’t think I can,” he murmurs, the searing pain of betrayal clung to his very breath.
“Yes, you can. We both can. We have to do this, Ollie. Otherwise, you won’t be able to stomach what’s coming our way this Saturday.”
“I think my stomach has reached its quota of unbearable shit it can take this week,” he groans, leaning back on the seat and closing his eyes.
I wish I could tell my brother this is as bad as it’s going to get, but I can’t bring myself to be another person who lies to him. Lies are what bored the festering wounds inside our souls in the first place. I won’t be an accomplice in camouflaging them and pretending it’s not as bad as it is, especially when I can smell the rot and pus of our bleeding hearts in the air around us.
Her sweet lies turned us both into crippled shells, but I refuse to be overwhelmed by the throbbing pain inside my chest. I can’t let it overpower me yet. Not when Ollie is falling apart. He’s my better half. Always has been. So, if I have to push my own misery to the back burner to help him heal, I will. Facing our demons while seeing the truth with our own eyes is what will help our broken hearts mend. You have to hit rock bottom to know you can’t go any lower than that.
I pull out of the gas station and head toward the address daddy dearest gave us yesterday when he ordered our attendance there in two days’ time. The brutal kick to the head was recognizing its familiar location, which is just another fucked-up thing Ollie and I had to swallow down—and the main reason why we left the house last night in search of any diversions that could guarantee we’d get ourselves shitfaced and fucking obliterated.
It’s been less than forty-eight hours since my whole world was flipped upside down. Just like a sinking ship being dragged underwater, I’m hoping some broken part of me can survive this by somehow floating safely ashore, away from the violent tides. And through the cruel storm of deceit, I’ll drag Ollie onto my back and carry him all the way, even if I have to drown to ensure his heart continues to beat.
My brother is my only concern. My own heart can wait.
The twenty-minute drive is all the preparation we are afforded before we reach our dreaded destination. We park the SUV in the wooded area just outside the main gates, and from where we stand, we can see the lavish mansion with plenty of delivery vans and cars parked right outside its main entrance.
We start walking through the brush, so no one sees us lurking, and I make an effort not to turn my head to the side or saunter closer to the cliff’s edge, to avoid looking at the beach that holds my most treasured memories—ones that I thought I would cherish above all others.
Ollie leans against a tree, still not quite able to hold himself up on his own, feigning indifference by cleaning his glasses on his T-shirt. We don’t say a word to each other the whole time we stand there, waiting and watching on bated breath. Not thirty minutes pass before we see with our own eyes that our fears are justified. A halo of platinum hair emerges, dancing in the wind, grabbing our full attention and making us simultaneously loathe its beauty, as well as yearn to touch it, if only as a parting goodbye.
“She looks tired,” Ollie laments at my side as we watch Snow walk over to her pink bicycle, which looks like it’s seen better days. Even from as far as we are, we can see the bags under her eyes and the ingrained frown caressing her lips.
“Yeah, well, leading a double life is bound to have its disadvantages,” I sneer, thinking to myself the lengths this girl went to in making us believe she was just a simple, poor townie, with nothing to her name.
Well, at least the last part wasn’t a lie. From what I read online these past two days, in my search to get my hands on anything pertaining to the West family, they lost their whole fortune when the Feds came knocking on their door. I have no idea how they are still living in this mansion right now, but I’m sure they are unable to keep it for much longer.
Craig West really did screw the pooch with his underhanded dealings, but it seems like his wife and daughter were already making contingency plans for when the shit hit the fan. Even before his suicide, they were scheming how to jump ship, leaving him dead in the water. If that isn’t the very definition of a cold, heartless bitch, I don’t know what is.
“I still can’t believe it. I mean, I’m trying hard to wrap my head around it, but it just doesn’t seem like something Snow is capable of,” I hear Ollie murmur, his eyes locked on her frame as she pedals away from the house, probably going to work.
“That’s because there is no Snow, Ollie. Snow was just another lie. A persona she made up to get our guard down. You heard what Rome said. Holland and her mother are nothing but opportunists, and we fell into their trap like a couple of suckers,” I retort, spitting my disdain onto the grass at my feet.
“But why, though? What did they have to gain from it?”
“Ollie, why does anybody do anything in our world? Money. We have it, and they lost it. It’s not rocket science to add all the pieces together,” I summarize, appealing to his rational mind to work out the kinks and establish for himself what is clear as day to me.
“I get that, I do. But if this was all some elaborate scheme to get our father to pop the question, why go after us? The minute this wedding takes place, Snow’s… I mean Holland’s farce goes up in flames. They must have known we’d connect the dots on the wedding day, so why go through all the trouble of going after us, knowing the collateral damage it would cause when he was their target all along?” Ollie reasons, planting all his hopes on some logical explanation for why Snow lied to us all this time. That maybe, just maybe, she’s as much a victim as we are.
Letting him continue to hold onto any shred of hope is just plain cruel. I won’t let him fall in that rabbit hole by believing the girl we gave our hearts to actually exists, instead of the conniving, devious one who just pedaled her way past us.
“I have no fucking idea. Maybe we were plan B like Rome thinks. They probably figured they should cover all of their bases; if Daddy Warbucks didn’t cave into marrying Vivienne, then Holland could trick one of us into walking down the aisle. It’s not like we didn’t think about it. I mean, we did almost buy a three million dollar house for her, didn’t we?” I croak, kicking a rock with the tip of my shoe, wishing I was kicking some sense into Ollie instead. “Or maybe, she went rogue and tried to con us all on her own, but her mommy beat her to the fini
sh line. Shit if I know what diabolical schemes those two had up their sleeves. What I do know is that we got off easy. Our father is the one getting in bed with vipers, not us. Take it as a win, Ollie. We got lucky.”
“I don’t fucking feel lucky. I feel like someone just stabbed me through the heart.” He chokes, showing his torn insides and sliced-up soul.
“Yeah, I know,” I mumble, walking over to him, placing my arm over his shoulder. Ollie tilts the side of his head to mine and lets out a pent-up breath.
“I’m so messed up right now. I can’t make sense of anything,” he hushes beside me.
“I know that, too.”
“Ash…”
“Yeah?”
“I loved her, you know? I know I never said it out loud, but I did. Fuck, I know it’s freaking idiotic of me to say, but I love her still,” he confesses huskily, and my own tormented feelings slap me across the face, awakening the truth I’m fighting so hard to conceal for his sake. As much as I want to hate and destroy the girl who gutted us so mercilessly, she lives and breathes inside my heart, too.
“How are we going to get through this?”
“Together. We get through it together, like we do everything else,” I assure him, hoping we’re strong enough to glue back the pieces of our shattered hearts.
“Yeah, okay.” He nods, finally being able to walk on his own in the direction of the car.
As I walk behind him, I take out my phone and send Holland a text, asking her to meet up with me tonight at our spot. Before she has time to respond, I switch off my phone, not wanting to run the risk of having her calling me. Ollie had stayed confined to his room, listening to her voicemails and reading her texts in a loop before I was able to confiscate his phone from him. The earnest plea of concern in her voice was too tempting not to believe. For all my brother’s strong qualities, he’s just not equipped in handling such treachery face to face. Not yet, anyway. Since Vivienne seems to be in a fucking rush to get my father’s signature on a marriage certificate, Ollie has until this Saturday to gain some backbone and perspective. If I want to give him some more time, I’ll have to confront her myself and make sure she gets the message that she should keep her distance from us. For Ollie’s sake, as well as for my own sanity.
The rest of the day goes as expected. Ollie crashes in his room and sleeps the day away. At least when he’s dead to the world, he doesn’t have to face the harsh reality that we lost something we never truly had.
I leave him a note on his bedside table, saying I went for a drive to cool off. It’s the only white lie that comes easy to me. If he knew my true intentions, he would either talk me out of it or worse, tag along—and frankly he’s still too raw not to be easily manipulated.
I get to the beach at ten-thirty on the dot, and I don’t even bother with the charade of lighting up a bonfire. This girl stole the only light in my life, so she deserves only darkness in hers. My hands ball into fists at my side when I see a silhouette run in a mad dash toward me. Before I’m able to say a word, her arms envelop my waist, hugging me as if her whole life depended on it. The whiff of her scent, sweet vanilla mixed with the sharp tang of ginger, invades my senses, bringing me back to a time that I yearned to smell only this fragrance for all my days.
“I missed you so much, Asher. I was so scared,” she hiccups, her body shivering profusely as she tightens her grip, pretending her care for my well-being is genuine. My throat yearns to lash out at her, call her every foul-mouthed name I can think of, but my body betrays me too when I feel my arms hold onto her just as fiercely as she is to me.
“When I didn’t hear from you or Ollie, I got so scared, Ash. Please, promise me that you’re okay? Please,” she cries out in the air, and her gentle, quivering timbre is as exquisite to hear as it is painful.
I pull back just a smidge, enough to grip her chin and have her deceiving face lie to me head-on. I look into her gray, watery eyes, and I hate myself for still seeing my whole future embedded in them.
“I’m fine, Snow,” I lie, and her creased brow relaxes just a bit.
“What about Ollie? Why isn’t he here? What happened?”
“He’s dealing with some shit, babe. He needs some time to get his head in the game,” I tell her truthfully.
I’m having a hard time being here. No way could Ollie have handled this. She’s done enough damage as it is. I won’t let her near him or allow her to cause any more harm.
“Can you talk about it? What can I do to help you?” she begs, running her palm up and down my scruffy cheek, trying to see inside my very soul with those beautiful, wide eyes of hers.
Too bad she drained the fucker with her lies.
“What happened, Ash? I see the pain in your eyes, and it’s killing me. What can I do?” she pleads again, and a malicious idea surfaces to the forefront of my mind—either summoned by my hatred of her insisting pretense, or by the lingering traces of love that still breathe inside of me.
How far would she go to keep this act going? If she’s truly committed to whatever sick game this is, I’ll play along. But this time I’m the one with the hidden agenda.
“Snow, do you love me?” I hear myself ask, and the organ that used to pump away in my chest freezes over just to listen to whatever spiel her perfect lips are about to utter.
When I see her eyes sparkle with a bright gleam of hope, the pit of my stomach churns, knowing she’s about to feed me a lie I used to fantasize about.
“With all my heart,” she whispers lovingly.
I have to grind the back of my teeth to keep silent, restraining myself not to push her to the sand and rip her apart, in the same way these words have done to me. But I’ll make sure she doesn’t leave this beach unscathed. She’s destroyed enough. It’s my turn now.
“Prove it.”
Chapter 13
Holland
“Prove it.” He beckons, and the provocation rings in my ears like a beacon summoning my wildest thoughts.
I search his hazel eyes for the cause of his pain, but all I see is a dying soul struggling to take its last breath. What could have possibly happened to him to bring out such destruction?
“Snow?” he whispers, his thumb lightly caressing the hollow of my throat.
“How can I prove it?” I ask him urgently, wanting to do anything in my power to erase the misery he’s in.
If he needs to feel my love to overcome whatever nightmare he’s going through, then I’ll freely give him all of it. I just wish Ollie was here so I could comfort him, as well. Ollie might be the mature one in our trio, but he’s also the most sensitive of us. Ash guards his vulnerability better, so if he’s this frayed, I can only imagine what Ollie is going through.
“Take off your shirt,” he whispers, the tip of his tongue teasing the rim of my ear.
My mouth goes dry when I see a flicker of heat trying to overshadow his sullen expression. Ash’s need to feel anything other than his current agony calls out to my own torment. The past few days without them have been torture, so I’m all too eager to have a moment of happiness in Ash’s arms. Keeping my eyes locked with his, my nervous fingers tug at the hem of my T-shirt, pulling it over my head and dropping it to the sand at our feet.
The small glimmer of want burns brighter in his brownish-green eyes, his breath quickening as he watches me pull one bra strap down my shoulder, and then the next. His hand returns to caress my neck with long, smooth strokes of his thumb, while the other finds my bra clasp in the back and unhooks it with ease. We inhale simultaneously when the cotton garment falls to the ground.
His hungry eyes flit down to my breasts, as mine narrow onto his plump, lower lip. The urge to push up onto the balls of my feet and kiss him is burning away at me. But I keep as immobile as possible, letting Ash take back the control he’s so desperately looking to reclaim. Still gently clutching my neck in his hold, his other hand begins to stroke my rib cage, until his clever fingers reach one hardened nub, deli
vering an exquisite pinch—one that strikes a match between my thighs, soaking my panties with one simple move. My chest begins to heave as I slowly shift in my shorts, hoping for some kind of friction to ease my ache.
He cups my chin, with an all-knowing smirk curled up on his lips.
“Are you hurting, baby?” he rasps huskily.
I nod, never once shying away from his famished, lust-filled gaze. I’m sure mine is just as depraved, if not more so.
“That’s good. I like seeing you suffer,” he adds, raking his tongue on his lower lip before leaning down toward my frantically heaving chest and bringing my sensitive nipple into his mouth.
The wanton moan that leaves my lips is inevitable. His punishing ministrations increase the tempo of my heartbeat, and I grab onto his broad shoulders, afraid my weak knees will give out on me. He grabs my left hip and pulls me forward, arching my back as he brings our lower bodies into alignment. The bite that his fingers leave on my fevered flesh is just as excruciatingly delicious as the graze of his hot tongue on my swollen bud.
I scrape the back of his neck with my nails, pushing his head closer to the source of his desire, while my own spikes to new heights when I feel my core connect with his enlarged cock. The white fabric of my shorts and his black jeans are the only barriers keeping us apart.
“Ash,” I hear myself beg as I begin to unashamedly grind up against him, praying my release is just seconds away.
The groan that leaves his lips only incites my yearning, and I let one of my arms fall so I can feel his arousal on my fingertips. The minute I cup his impressive length in my hand, he pulls away from me, leaving me frustrated and confused.
“On your knees, Snow,” Ash commands harshly, taking a step back away from me.
My breathing halts for just a minute, realizing what he has in mind. The sliver of apprehension makes its way into my hormonal haze, awakening me to the task at hand. As much as I’ve been curious in loving Ollie and Ash in this way, they’ve never once initiated or pushed me to perform this sexual act. But whatever has a hold of Ash this night, it’s hungry to see me on my knees and will only be satiated with my obedience.
