Identical Disaster (The Sterling Shore Series Book 8)

by C. M. Owens

  As badly as I want to Jax to know ASAP, I totally understand what’s she’s asking.

  “No problem.”

  She hangs up, and I lower my phone as Bora starts wiping tears away from her eyes.

  “I had to tell her because—”

  She laughs humorlessly, cutting me off. “Don’t. I completely understand why you called her and told us both at the same time. I’m not pissed at you.”

  She swallows hard, and someone pounds at the door. “Bora? What the hell?” Dixon calls from the other side.

  Her eyes dart to mine, and I start to walk toward the door. Her scrambling off the couch has me pausing, and she walks by me like she’s on a mission.

  “This is one breakup I’ll handle myself.”

  Well, I’ll be damned.

  I cross my arms over my chest and watch as she opens the door. Dixon looks confused when he takes her in.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “My boyfriend is a lying son of a married bitch. That’s what’s wrong. Go fuck off. I’m done.”

  His jaw tenses, and he rolls his shoulders back before chancing a glance at me. Maybe I’ve lost my mind, but I walk over to the door when he doesn’t look like he’s going to budge, and I actually do what I want to for once.

  I kick him in the freaking balls as hard as I can.

  A loud breath wheezes out of him as he grabs himself and crumbles to the floor. Bora slams the door to punctuate the point. I lock it immediately, because I’m not badass enough to deal with him if he stands up pissed and ready for revenge.

  Bora goes back to my couch, and my heart breaks for her as tears start streaming down her cheeks. You can tell she isn’t used to actually breaking up with guys, because that was the shortest breakup in history.

  “Hope you don’t mind covering for me tomorrow,” she says, hiccupping out a sob she’s trying to restrain.

  My phone buzzes, but I don’t read it right away. I go curl up on the couch beside my sister and hold her as she falls apart for the first time in our lives.

  Chapter 39

  JAX

  I check my phone. Again. Because I’m seriously getting worried about Bo. She hasn’t called or text since she said Bora needed her last night, and it took all my willpower not to go over there when I didn’t hear back from her.

  That’s how crazy I’ve gotten.

  Groaning, I check my phone yet again, but still nothing.

  It hasn’t gone unnoticed that she doesn’t seem to want me around Bora. I hope that it isn’t suddenly an issue, because now it’s too damn late. I’m hooked. Hell, I’m reeled.

  My phone goes to my pocket when I see Cody walking toward me. We still haven’t been on the best of terms, and I passed up going out with him last night even after Bo canceled on me.

  He doesn’t say anything, but I can tell he wants to. Instead, he clocks in and disappears into one of the studio rooms, preparing for class.

  My phone buzzes, and I practically juggle it out of my pocket like a crazed idiot. But confusion hits instead of relief when I see Cody’s name on the screen, along with a picture.

  I open it up, seeing his message.

  CODY: Didn’t want to send this until I knew you were alone. I’m here when you need to talk. No rush. I know this is a lot to take in. They all went up to her apartment after this. I watched. I had a bad feeling about her from the start.

  I’m still confused until I see there are actually four pictures instead of just one. The first is of Bo—no, not Bo. That’s Bora. No way would Bo be kissing another guy in front of her apartment building.

  Then I see the guy’s face in the next picture, along with the other two, and I have to slowly sit down on the stool behind me.

  Dixon.

  It’s just him and Bora—no fucking way is that Bo—in the kissing picture. In the other three, however, Bo is outside with them, talking to them. Acting like it’s fucking normal for them to be on the street and making out.

  Bile rises to my throat as I try to piece it all together, but it just doesn’t make sense. Why the hell is Bora making out with Dixon? I know Bo knows who he is. She has to. No way does she not know.

  Then I remember the last text she sent me. Bora just needs me tonight.

  Anger slowly starts to simmer in my veins as I start dissecting that. We’ve come full circle and I’m back to piecing together all her games. She underestimated me once before, and apparently she hasn’t learned her lesson.

  I wasted the night being worried that something was wrong, but no. She hung out with her sister and my sister’s fucking husband. Guess I know why she didn’t want me in her fucking apartment last night.

  I stand up and sit down several times, then finally I slam my phone on the counter and try to take slow breaths.

  I bet they’re having a damn good time laughing behind my back. Sneaking around like they’re so motherfucking brilliant.

  Why? Why the hell did she continue to see me when she was keeping this a fucking secret from me?

  Not that it should surprise me. All she does is keep secrets. From everyone. Hell, this whole thing started because she was lying to me, so why am I so fucking surprised that she’s been lying to me the entire time.

  Even though I’d rather do anything else, I look at the first picture again, noticing how Bora is leaning into him with effortless familiarity. No way is this a new thing. Not even Bora is that cozy on a first date.

  I shove my phone in my pocket and grab my keys.

  “Where’re you going?” Dustin calls from behind me as I stalk out the door.

  They can handle the gym. I have something of my own to handle.

  My car is boxed in, and I curse, ready to punch something. But it’s not like she works too far from here, so I jog straight toward Pretty Posh’s new headquarters inside the Sterling Front building.

  By the time I reach the door, I’ve had plenty of time to stew over how stupid I am. How could I ever trust a girl who blatantly lied to me? She pretended to be her fucking twin sister and came on a trip with me.

  How in the hell did I think it would be a good idea to get in a relationship with her? It’s insane, and I deserve the reminder that people fucking suck.

  I got sucked in, lost inside those endless shy eyes and that sweet, deceptive laugh. I got sucked in by the charade of how massive her heart is. I thought she was the most genuine person I’d ever met. How could I think that when it all started with a lie?

  Because I’m a fucking moron. That’s why.

  The receptionist smiles and gives me a little wave when I get off on Pretty Posh’s executive floor, but she doesn’t grill me about who I’m here to see like she did the last time.

  She buzzes the door open, and I walk by her without saying a word, heading past the rows of cubicles until I reach the large, corner office.

  I don’t even bother knocking before pushing the door open, and Bo jerks back when I step inside. A woman in front of her drops some papers at Bo’s feet, acting just as startled, but I don’t speak as I wait on her to get out.

  “Jax,” Bo says, but she doesn’t smile. She can tell that I’m pissed.

  “I’ll, um… Just bring these back later,” the shaky woman says while cleaning up the papers and practically sprinting out.

  I slam the door behind her, and then I turn to face Bo again. She runs a hand through her wavy hair while leaning a hip against her desk. She looks tired with barely any makeup on. Her clothes even seem to be a little mismatched, but I’m too busy being furious with her to do much more of an appraisal.

  “You know,” she says softly.

  At least she isn’t much of one to deny shit when she knows she’s busted.

  “Yeah. I know. How could you not tell me?” I growl, trying not to punch a hole through her wall.

  She cuts her eyes toward me, almost seeming confused, but I’m not falling for the sweet and innocent look anymore.

  “I was going to tell you tonight,” she says, tilting her head
as she studies me.

  “How convenient,” I bite out.

  Her brow pinches together as she really puts on a good show.

  “I only found out last night. I had to be with Bora when—”

  “When what? When she fucked my sister’s husband? You into that sort of thing?” I goad, turning up the asshole. No more games.

  “Excuse me?” she asks, leaning up and taking a more defensive stance.

  “The funny thing, Bo, is that I wouldn’t have given a damn if you’d just told me. Obviously I don’t like the fucker; I’ve been telling Viv for years to leave him. But I hate being lied to. Hate. It. I guess I contradicted that by so easily accepting you after you lied the entire first week we ‘knew’ each other. I really hate feeling like a fucking fool chasing you, while you’re busy keeping shit like this from me.”

  She bristles and tears fill up in her eyes, but she tilts her head back as her jaw tenses. She’s pissed. Well, hallelujah. The real Bo is about to finally join me. No more sweet and innocent bullshit.

  Then she slowly starts to control her breathing, and I realize I have to push harder if I’m going to snap that control.

  “Nothing to say, Bo? Or are you coming up with a good lie to cover your ass. You’re damn good at lying. If your design empire ever crashes, you should pursue a career in acting, because you sure as hell fooled me.”

  The tears wavering on her lids seem to quiver with those words, and she winces while looking away.

  “So this is how it feels,” she says to herself, not making any sense. Slowly, she looks up at me, and she takes a step forward. Very calmly, she says, “You just walk in and accuse me of doing something like this. After what we shared. After all I’ve trusted you with. This is how you treat me, instead of coming to me and asking me what happened? Instead of hearing my side? And I mean actually hearing me, because I can tell you didn’t come here to do anything but yell and end this with me.”

  I laugh bitterly while rolling my eyes. “Even now. Unbelievable. And here I was thinking you at least owned your shit when you were called out. Not this time, huh?”

  She just stares at me, unmoving, and the tears in her eyes seem to almost disappear as a coldness I haven’t seen before cools her gaze.

  “You can go, Jax,” she says softly. “I can promise you don’t have to worry about me calling you anymore.”

  I snort derisively. “I should have stuck with my first gut-feeling that told me you were a fucking liar. Because you are. Hell, I blame myself more than you.”

  “Go,” she says again, turning her back on me as she looks outside and crosses her arms in front of her, almost appearing to be hugging herself. “Jury has decided I’m guilty, but I don’t have to listen to you spew nasty things in my own office.”

  Unbelievable. She doesn’t even have the audacity to turn and face me or even fucking apologize.

  Not even worth it.

  I turn and jerk the door open, then slam it behind me, causing numerous people to jump, trip or drop something. I walk out without looking back.

  It feels like something has just been ripped out of my chest, leaving me raw and heaving for air. I ignore it, because I’ll be damned if I feel anything for someone who doesn’t give a true fuck about me.

  Fuck her. Fuck this. Fuck it all to hell.

  Chapter 40

  BO

  “How bad was work?” Bora asks as I walk in, mindlessly kicking my heels off as I slowly go through the motions of putting my stuff away.

  My heart? There isn’t one. It’s been annihilated so thoroughly that there isn’t a shred of it left. Or maybe there never actually was one, because I feel nothing. At all. No anger. No pain. No tears have fallen. Nothing.

  All I feel is numb.

  “Bo?” she prompts, standing up and coming to me as I walk toward my kitchen to get a drink. Maybe I can feel drunk.

  “Are you okay? You look pale. Are you sick?”

  Bora is grating on my nerves. Which is good. I can apparently feel annoyed with her.

  “Bo, damn it. What’s wrong?”

  I turn to face her and her red-rimmed eyes. She’s probably been crying all day over that user and that Dick. I snicker, snorting actually, and start laughing over my own joke before pulling out a bottle of wine from the wine chiller, even though I don’t really feel the humor. I blame it on exhaustion.

  More confusion mars her face.

  “Dad thinks you’re tougher than me. Look who’s crying. Look who isn’t.”

  I make quick work of the cork, and Bora slants her eyes in confusion.

  “Ouch. I did just endure a breakup. Shit isn’t kind.”

  “Says the girl who has me break up with her boyfriends most of the time.”

  She frowns while taking a wary step back. Wise girl.

  “Dick was different and you know it. I cared about him.”

  I snort again. Dick. He should stick with using Dixon. What guy willingly gets called Dick?

  “Well, I cared about Jax, but you don’t see me crying,” I tell her flatly, emotionlessly, not feeling… anything at all.

  It’s just a pit of nothingness that has folded over me, blanketing me in its promise of emptiness.

  “What? Why the hell did you—”

  “He dumped me,” I tell her before turning the wine bottle up. As soon as I finish a long sip, I face her wide eyes. “And I’m just fine. You should be fine too. So go home and be fine there, because I don’t want you here.”

  The hurt in her eyes doesn’t even bother me. No guilt. No pain. No misery. Just nothing.

  “What the hell, Bo? This isn’t you.”

  “You mean the sister you constantly take advantage of?” I muse, smiling as I turn to face her. “The girl you can call to fix all your problems? The girl who gets stepped on and talked down to? The girl everyone thinks is so weak and pathetic, so they bully her? The girl no one ever listens to? No. I don’t think I want to be that girl anymore. I do want you to leave though. Time to deal with your own problems. They’re not mine anymore.”

  She stands frozen to her spot as that gnawing pit of nothingness contains anything I might normally feel.

  Numb.

  Cold.

  Lost.

  When she studies my eyes for a few minutes, I notice the wary acceptance. She doesn’t say a word before grabbing her purse and walking out, leaving me alone in my apartment with my wine and my dark abyss of numbness.

  No pint of ice cream for me. No tears will drown me in my sleep. No stabbing, unbearable, gut-wrenching pain will keep me awake.

  My phone rings, and I pick it up, answering my father’s call. “Yes?” I state calmly.

  “Bora said I needed to call you. She’s worried. Said there’s something wrong.”

  I don’t answer right away because I’m busy taking another sip of wine.

  “I’m fine. Go have fun in whatever city you’re in. I don’t need you or anyone else checking in on me. Never have. Never will.”

  He sucks in a sharp breath, and I roll my eyes.

  “Bo, what the hell does that mean?”

  “It means, you couldn’t give up your dream to raise your two daughters. Just like Mom couldn’t give up her soul search. Didn’t even make me miss a step. What makes you think I need you checking in on me now when I didn’t need it as a kid?”

  He grows quiet, which is quite the feat for him.

  “Bo, what did he do?” is his next question.

  “He proved you wrong,” I tell him, taking another sip. “I’m not broken, Dad. Looks like I’m the strong one after all.”

  I hang up on him and ignore my phone when he calls right back. I don’t have time to deal with his worry. Because that’s all it is. His worry. I’m just fucking fine.

  Chapter 41

  JAX

  Someone bangs on my door, and I curse while staggering to my feet, still half drunk from the night before. Yeah, I found the tequila after having my heart ripped out of my chest. Don’t give a
damn if anyone has a problem with that.

  Noon? I slept until noon?

  It’s a bad idea to spend every waking moment with someone who doesn’t drive you crazy in a bad way. Why? Because you get a hell of a closer and more dependent on them than you realize. Then you cling to all the scraps of time you can manage to get with each other, driving that connection deeper.

  When they fuck you over, it hurts like a motherfucker.

  I swing my door open, expecting Dustin or Cody, but I’m surprised to find a very pissed off Viv.

  “You asshole,” is her greeting.

  “Morning, Viv. Guess you got my message. Your husband is a cheating—”

  “I know what he is. I also got a phone call from the woman he was screwing, even though I have no idea how she got my number, since her sister isn’t talking to her.”

  My ears perk up, and then I curse myself for even feeling anything at all from just hearing Viv allude to Bo. My chest is already hurting. Last thing I need is anything fueling it.

  “Why the hell would Bora call you?”

  No way is Bora trying to make things better between me and Bo.

  “She called to ream my ass for the miscommunication you and I had that resulted in you yelling at Bo in her office about Dixon. Did you really go to her office? She said everyone there is talking about it, because apparently you weren’t quiet.”

  I wave her off.

  “She fucking lied to me, Viv. You know she’s a liar. You know she lied about who she was. She told me you knew. Unless she lied about that. Did she lie?”

  “I know who she is, but—”

  “It was fucking crazy to ever be with her to begin with,” I add, slurring the words a little toward the end. Talking is taking a lot more effort than normal right now.

  She sniffs the air and scowls.

  “You’re hungover.”

  “Still partly drunk,” I correct her.