Disarranged
Page 4
"It's nice to meet you, I think," I say. If Kiera's told him about me, I guess he must think I'm a bitch. But he doesn't ease up on the smile he aims towards me, and it feels genuine, so maybe she didn't tell him the bad bits about me at all. Lee's eyes flash as he looks at me, a message in them I can't quite read. Or is it a warning? I can't tell. Felix moves towards me, as if to shake my hand, but Lee immediately steps between us. Kiera narrows her eyes as the two men look each other up and down.
"Lee, don't be rude. Felix just wants to get to know Rose."
"He can do it over my dead body," Lee growls.
"Hey," I put a hand on Lee's arm. "I'm okay. I can take care of myself."
Lee scoffs, eyes still locked aggressively on Felix. "You have no idea, Rose. Just stay out of this."
"You're overreacting," I whisper. "It's okay. He doesn't seem so bad."
"You don't know anything!" Lee suddenly shouts at me. He rips his eyes from Felix and looks at me, a burning flame in his irises. "You really, really don't know anything. So don't act like you do!"
I start back. It's not the first time Lee's yelled, but it's the first time I've heard him so angry, so afraid. Felix laughs, his easy tone breaking the tension but not erasing it.
"Hey, look, I'm sorry man. I won't shake her hand. That's cool. Correct me if I'm wrong, but this one over here's your fiancé, yeah? Protecting her might be a little more important."
Felix's words hurt, but he's right. Why is Lee so defensive over me, when it's Kiera's he's marrying?
Kiera claps her hands. "Alright! Now that everyone's acquainted, we can get on to having some fun."
"Fun?" I ask. "I don't like the sound of that."
"Oh, you will! You're in the beginner's skiing course, right Rose? Well, Felix just took over as teacher there today!"
"B-But, but what about Franz?"
"He had a...sudden family emergency," Kiera says, smiling all the while.
"Family emergency my ass!" Lee snarls. "You -"
"I what?" Kiera's eyes widen. "I helped my father's friend find a job. Isn't that nice of me?" She turns to me, and smiles broader. "We really should be getting to bed. We've got so much to accomplish tonight."
The way she drags out the word accomplish makes a sick, bubbling heat rise in my stomach. Kiera offers her arm to Lee, who glowers between me and Felix for a moment before taking it, but not before he points menacingly in Felix's face.
"I'm watching you," Lee says, a deadly calm in his voice.
"Sure, buddy," Felix laughs. Kiera leads Lee away. When they're gone, Felix turns to me and winks.
"She's a piece of work, huh?"
"Who? Kiera?"
He nods. "Yeah. Can't stand her. Still, she's pretty. I guess that's why most people put up with her."
My anxiety eases. Lee distrusts Felix, obviously, but anyone who doesn't like Kiera - who knows her true nature and dislikes her for it - can't be all that bad. You have to be smart enough to see her real face and kind enough to be repulsed by it.
"You like it here?" Felix asks.
"So far, yeah." I try a smile. "Obviously, with all these old friends here I'm a little..."
"On edge," He offers.
"Yeah. That. But it's beautiful, and I'm meeting some new people. That's all it takes to make me happy. Oh, and the food. Awesome French food makes anyone happy."
Felix chuckles. "My mom was French. Not much of a cook, though. Burned everything she got her hands on."
Felix and I walk out of the ballroom, and he shrugs.
"So I'll see you tomorrow morning for your lesson. First thing."
"Yup. Got my alarm set and everything."
He starts off, and I go in the opposite direction to the hotel room, my head practically spinning with what just happened. Lee sent me a note, acted so strange, and looked even sadder than ever. I can only pray he's okay. I can only pray he'll feel better after some good sleep - or lack thereof. Kiera's taunting face when she talked about them sleeping together just now still haunts me. I haven't slept with anyone since that Christmas night at the charity ball - how could I? Lee was the only one I'd ever felt attracted enough to, the only one who'd cared enough about me as a person. I couldn't let my guard down like that again with anyone else - not for a long, long time. The emotional hole he left in my heart is gaping and ragged, but the physical one he left pulses and oozes wounded blood on a regular basis. Just seeing him, being close to him in the last few nights, all of it is too much for my body to bear. I remember every touch, every soft whisper, and I crave them all over again. And again.
When I get back to the hotel room, Grace isn't in. She must be running late.
I collapse on the bed, the Lee-smelling sweater loose around my body. I hug it tight, pull it tighter around me, and pretend the smell means he's near. I pretend I can reach over and touch him, his face, his neck, his slender waist twisted with muscle. The smell of him is more than I've had in months, and it's all I can have right now. Forever. I push that thought out and try to stay in the moment - where it's warm and Lee's scent surrounds me, his sweater masquerading as his arms, his weight, his lips. I reach beneath it, beneath my shirt, and idly glance over my collarbone where he liked to kiss, my nipples he liked to bite, my stomach he'd laze his tongue up and down, and finally the warm, wet heat he'd play in - and when he wasn't feeling playful - war in. I arch my back and for a second he's here, making bruises on my thighs and explosions between them.
Chapter Three
In Which Rose Jensen Resists
***
LEE
***
Kiera likes to pretend it’s been a fantastic night.
She gets up very early – morning person. Never liked those. She prances around in the latest lingerie she’s bought. It’s usually something pink and garish, with lace for miles and no shred of intent to hide anything at all. She bares it all. I don’t have the heart to tell her the lingerie I prefer. I don’t have the heart to tell her anything besides ‘don’t you dare hurt Rose’ anymore. And with the wedding looming ever closer, that’s all I feel like saying.
In a few months, I’ll be married.
The joke’s on her, though. I have plans. She isn’t the master tactician she thinks she is – I’ll divorce her after the marriage. Not right away, maybe a few months in so she lowers her guard. She’s making me sign a pre-nup that says I won’t get anything, but that’s fine. I wouldn’t want her daddy’s blood money, anyway. The man is practically mafia, with the bank he makes and the contacts he has.
As I watch her move around the hotel room, humming an annoying tuneless song and making coffee, I feel my blood start to boil, and not in the turned-on way. She brought that scumbag Felix out here just to keep me in check. Rose’s insult – bold-faced and up front – must’ve really scared Kiera more than I thought it did. If Rose’s gotten that bold, there’s no telling what she’ll do. She might try to fight back, take me from Kiera, even if that will only hurt her. And Kiera is now ensuring that it will hurt bad. Terribly. By bringing Felix – who’s probably some punk straight out of jail – Kiera’s reminding me of my duty. My end of the bargain that saved Rose’s family business and her education. The one I stupidly agreed to back when I thought it was all I could do for her. And Farlon had been in on it. I really didn’t have a chance back then. I was naïve. I thought I could handle it – being her ‘fake’ husband, protecting Rose, all of it. And Dad knew that. Dad played me, and to some extent, played Kiera. He cares nothing about me. I was a pawn, and Kiera gave up a very, very handsome chunk of change for that pawn.
I should be flattered, I think bitterly as I watch her pink lingerie flutter in the non-existent breeze. I’ve landed myself a beautiful, rich, cruel, domineering bitch.
But that cruel, domineering bitch has no idea just far she's pushing me.
I can't take it. I know that now. I was stupid for ever thinking I could. But I can't go back now, or she'll hurt Rose. So I'll push through it all, and come out the oth
er side tougher for it. I'll stay with Kiera until I find a way to protect Rose from her, and then I'll bring her sick little kingdom crashing down on her.
Kiera turns, offering me a cup of coffee. The morning sun slants in on our room. She used me until I was dry, riding me like the little circus pony she thinks I am, with me pretending it was Rose all the while. I've been good about not saying her name aloud when I come - part of the skillset I refined in my days around the block. But Kiera knows. She knows everything. And that's why she's so viciously obsessive about the sex - like she's trying to beat the thought of Rose out of me through sheer overuse and stimulation. But it'll never work. Kiera doesn't understand that. I see it in her feline eyes, now looking at me with a veil of feigned innocence, and for a moment I pity her. She has no idea why I will never love her. No - she has no idea what love is to begin with. I was the closest thing she ever came to it, and that's why she's hanging on by the skin of her long, manicured nails. She'll keep clutching until I'm dead. I can see it - her determination to find a deeper love matches my desire for the deeper love I found in Rose.
It's a struggle. A battle.
A crusade, two religions fighting each other with equally fervent force, trying to convince each other their way of life and their very souls are wrong. She is the blade carving her way to find a greater love, and I am the unwavering shield protecting the one I love.
My pity wins, in this moment. I take the coffee cup and sip slowly, staring at her deliberately over the lip of the cup. I make my gaze as intense as I can. Her face lights up with joy for a scarce moment as she mistakes my resolve for something sexual, but when I don't let it up she realizes exactly what is. Her face falls. It's nothing sexual and it never will be. We are fighting. Rose is, slowly, learning to fight. And I'm on the front lines continually. She'll join me someday.
And until that day, I make my gaze say, I will remain true.
The disappointment in her eyes lasts only one second before denial clouds it over and reverts her expression back to one of playful ignorance. She doesn't want to see that. She wants to keep hoping I'll come back, but I never will. She dances away and grabs her own cup of coffee from the table before settling on the foot of my bed and sipping coyly.
"It was never a game to you," I say slowly. "Was it? That whole spiel you gave me about being bored, about using me and Rose as distractions from your boredom - that was a lie."
"Hmm?" Kiera tilts her head. She's pretending again. I sigh.
"You're good at pretending, Kiera. But I can see the real you, now. It's not too late to stop this. I won't hate you completely. We can still be friends, but only if you cut it out right now."
Kiera mulls over this, staring into her coffee and going still. Then, all at once, she starts swinging her legs and laughs, shaking her head.
"No, no, no. It's very much too late."
I open my mouth to say something, but she snaps her head to me and smiles a feral smile.
"Don't test me, Lee Montenegro. I won't hesitate to do anything. I'll punish you by punishing her, and I won't blink an eye as I do it. Don't make me show you blood to prove that to you."
I put my coffee down and shake my head. Kiera finishes hers and goes into the bathroom to take a shower. The coffee slowly goes cold, as does the last shred of sympathy I had for Kiera.
I crystallize the soft part, tell it never pity her again. I freeze-dry it with my long-burning thirst for revenge, and Rose's freedom.
Two can play this reluctant, barbed game, Kiera.
Two can shed blood.
***
ROSE
***
In the morning, I wake up with a massive headache. But for a few moments, as I'm coming to terms with my groggy surroundings, I can pretend Lee will be there when I open my eyes. His smell still lingers, and I realize I fell asleep in his sweater. I have to return it.
Grace is in the bed over, sleeping soundly. She looks exhausted, and fancy couture dresses are strewn about the room. She must've come in late and looked for something before giving up and collapsing on the bed. The tea I'd made for her beforehand is gone, empty down to the last dregs. She noticed! I feel a warm ball of friendship-fuzz bloom in my stomach. She's really observant, and always careful to appreciate the things I say and do for her. She's one of the best friends I've ever had.
I tiptoe over to her bedside and lie in the empty space in front of her. She sleeps on her stomach, her face mashed into the pillow. Even with smeared, half-taken-off makeup and slightly drooling, she looks incredibly beautiful. I poke at her cheek fat - what little there is, and she lazily opens her eyes.
"Hey," She murmurs.
"Hi," I say. "Have I told you you're the best friend I've ever had?"
"More like the only friend," She grumbles, and stuffs her face in the pillow further. I laugh, and she rolls over and chuckles. "Just kidding. I know nerds have friends."
"Not many," I correct, and wrap my arms around my knees and pull my legs up to my chest. "I was so busy with advanced classes and math league I barely had time to study or sleep, let alone go out and party."
"Nerrrrd," Grace drags out the word. "A cute nerd, but you're still a huge nerd."
"I'm getting better, right?" I put on my best pleading voice, and she smiles.
"Duh. All due to my stellar influence, of course."
I laugh and stand, getting dressed quickly.
"Do you have that ski class again this morning?" Grace asks.
"Yup. I should probably shower, but if I don't leave now I'll be late."
"You'll stink." Grace wrinkles her nose. "Of snow and cute French boys."
"Oh, our old instructor got fired. Kiera's dad's friend is the new one."
Grace raises an eyebrow. "Oh really?"
"Really."
Grace sits up and folds her arms over her chest. "I don't like the sound of that."
"He seems nice enough." I shrug. "Are you gonna talk to Jen anytime soon?"
"Why?"
I hold up my phone so she can see Jen's texts. "She keeps bugging me to tell you to eat and stuff. I think she's really worried. So just, try to talk to her soon, if you can."
"What are you, our mediator?" Grace scoffs. I stare at her pointedly, and she sighs. "Fine, fine! You're our mediator. I'll do as you command."
"Do it for yourself and for her, not me," I insist.
Grace makes a little salute, and I zip my jacket up and salute back. I leave, taking the elevator. The giant fires in the lobby hearths are just being stoked by the staff, so that's how I know just how early it is. Half-awake people stumble around looking for coffee and pulling on scarves and hats to face the coldness of the day. I grab a doughnut from the free breakfast counter and head outside. The cold nips at my cheeks and instantly makes my nose run, but I pull my scarf higher and rush to the Piroux lodge. The sun is barely rising over the east mountains, and unlike the last few days the sky is a flawless blue expanse with not a cloud obscuring the incredible mountain view. The lifts are working, steadily taking the earliest and most hardcore skiers up the mountain and to the more difficult runs. The beginner group is once again in front of the lodge. Today the fat German couple waves at me, and the redheaded woman even nods at me in greeting. Morgan runs up to me, a smile bright on her face.
"Hey! You're late!"
"Sorry, sorry!" I slog through the snow and shoot an apologetic look at Felix. He's decked out in more appropriate snow weather gear, now - a big puffy jacket and a warm-looking beanie hat. He shrugs in my direction.
"If you're late again, I'll fine you. We can't keep all these fine, eager learners waiting now, can we?"
He's so deadpan I don't know whether he's serious or not, and apparently neither does the circle. They all go quiet, Morgan nervously shifting from foot to foot, as if experiencing secondhand embarrassment for me. But Felix's mouth pulls into a tiny smirk, and he snickers.
"Just kidding. Let's get going."
The blanket of silence cracks and dissi
pates, and Morgan eagerly skips alongside me as we line up for the ski lift. It slows to a stop, and this time Morgan instantly stares upwards, determined not to look down and scare herself. I nudge her proudly.
"Hey! Look at you! You're not scared at all, anymore!"
"I'm still scared!" She protests, accidentally glancing down. She instantly freezes, and I reach out a mittened hand and tilt her chin up again.
"There you go."
"Th-Thanks," she stutters. "That's a lot better."
"You'll get there someday," I say. "But for now, it's okay to just look at the sky. Sometimes I even do it when I'm not scared."
"Really?"
"Yeah," I glance up at the perfect porcelain blue. "When life gets too overwhelming, or scary, I just look at the clouds and stuff. It makes me feel a lot smaller, and then my problems get really small, you know?"
She nods, vigorously. The lift screeches to a halt suddenly, and Morgan clutches at my arm.
"W-What's going on?"
I look to the station - we're still a good half-mile away. "I'm not sure. Hold on."
I scan around at the other lifts. Felix is just below us, and he waves and cups his hands around his mouth, shouting.
"Fixing a gear!"
I nod, and turn back to Morgan. "It's okay. They just found something they have to fix."
"Are we gonna fall?" She whispers, her grip on my arm like a vice. I pat her hand.
"Don't be silly. See those cables?" I point. "Those are steel wire, hundreds and hundreds of steel wires woven together in one big cable. Those won't snap unless a really huge tornado comes through. Do you see any really huge tornados?"
She looks around at the horizon, and then shakes her head.
"So, we're safe!" I conclude. She still shakes and shivers uncontrollably, so I offer my hand. "Here. You can hold my hand if it makes you feel better."
Morgan nods and puts her hand in mine. Her mittens are still pink, and the heat from her palm radiates into mine. It hits me then now young she is, and how scared she really must be. How brave. Her parents leave her alone with the nanny all the time, in foreign countries. To face a strange place with someone you don't know looking after you - that takes a lot of guts and a refined ability to trust. She's such a brave, amazing little girl, and I feel humbled just sitting by her. She's braver than I can ever dream of being.