Rival

by Penelope Douglas

What. The. Fuck?

  I push her hand away. “Are you for real?” I’m almost breathless with shock.

  Walking past her, I stomp down the hallway and dive in to the theater room. The only place I want to be anymore. Slamming the door, I walk over and plop down on the couch—the one Fallon and I were last together on—and drop my head back, closing my eyes.

  My heart is thundering in my chest, and my whole body is hot with anger.

  I can’t believe it. My stepmother just came on to me.

  With my head swimming, I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to get my head straight from my alcohol-induced blur. The cool leather at the back of my neck calms my breathing.

  I don’t understand why, after all this time, I still end up sleeping in this room most nights.

  Fallon left. She never really liked me, so why did I want to be reminded of her betrayal?

  But still . . . this is the place where we spent the most time together, sometimes in silence and one time not-so-silent.

  “Look at me,” Patricia says, and I snap my eyes open.

  “Get out!” I shout, my lips tight in seeing her standing in front of me.

  Why didn’t I lock the fucking door?

  I stand up and get in her face. “This is my room. Get out.”

  Her eyes flash with excitement. “You’re in a mood. I can see why Fallon feared you.”

  I shake my head. “Fallon didn’t fear me. I don’t know what she told you, but—”

  “She couldn’t handle you, Madoc.” She looks up at me, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth. “She’s in your past. You need to move on. She certainly has.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She’s dating someone at her boarding school,” Patricia says, and my heart rings in my ears.

  I barely register Patricia’s hands on my chest, rubbing me through my T-shirt.

  “She doesn’t even talk about you or ask about you, Madoc. I ask her to come home for visits. She won’t. She doesn’t deserve the man you’ve become.” My eyes close, thinking about all of the time I spend in here, all of the nights thinking about her, and I know it’s a waste of time. I fucking know it. Sure, I dated, too. I hooked up—not as much as I bragged to Jared—but there had been girls. My heart never belonged to any of them, though.

  Patricia’s whisper wafts across my neck. “I know what you crave. What will please you. And I can keep secrets.”

  She closes the distance, wrapping her arms around my neck, and smashes her lips to mine.

  She moans, and all of a sudden I can’t breathe.

  No . . .

  No.

  No!

  Grabbing her by the shoulders, I shove her away from me.

  “Jesus Christ!” I yell. “What the fuck?”

  Her skin is flushed, and she arches an eyebrow. “No?” she laughs. “I don’t think you mean that, Madoc.”

  I want to hit her. I actually want to slam her into a wall and erase her from the planet. Most of all, I want her out of here.

  “Out,” I order.

  Smirking, she walks to the couch and lays down on it. “Make me,” she challenges. “But you’ll have to touch me to do it.”

  I stare down at her, lying in the same place I’d last seen Fallon. Her hand rests above her head, and she looks hideous. Like something I never want to remember.

  I straighten my expression and speak low. “Leave tomorrow, or I’ll tell my dad about this.”

  I should tell him anyway.

  But maybe I don’t feel like protecting my father right now. Maybe I want him to suffer in this marriage. Maybe I hate him for bringing both of these bitches into our house.

  Or maybe if I lose Patricia, I fear losing Fallon for good.

  I don’t know.

  I walk out, leaving her on the couch and get out my phone.

  Are you up? I text, but I’m already heading for my car without waiting for a reply.

  My phone buzzes. I’m in bed. You have to come to me.

  I shake my head, knowing that’s not a problem.I need to blow off some steam. Jess Cullen, the cross-country captain, and I have a friends with benefits thing going, and I love her to pieces. Not love her, love her, but I respect her, and she’s a good girl.

  I punch in a reply. Be there in ten.

  See you soon. I left and never entered the theater room again. Not until tonight. Many times I even entertained the idea of hosting a bonfire for that fucking couch that’d now been ruined by that woman’s sleaze. But after that night, she took a lengthy vacation, and I didn’t see her until yesterday morning when she threatened to take Fallon away from me.

  When I’d seen Fallon’s note tonight, instead of getting excited like I’m sure she wanted me to, I’d groaned. I didn’t want to be in there, and I for damn sure didn’t want her in there.

  Who knew how she’d react if I told her the truth? It certainly wasn’t important, but I didn’t want to risk something else fucking with our happiness again.

  Carrying her up to bed that night, I leaned in and kissed her hair. Fallon, like me, had seen her parents living exactly how she didn’t want. Lucky for us, our vicarious experience felt like we’d already made our parents’ mistakes. We knew what we wanted now.

  Even though I knew she was strong, it didn’t stop me from wanting to protect her and give her everything.

  No one and nothing would stop us.

  • • •

  During the next couple of days, Fallon and I started getting things sorted out in Chicago. She went to class, while I handled the paperwork of withdrawing from one school and transferring to another. At night, if she wasn’t doing homework, we got online to look for apartments.

  Fallon had been trying to contact her father to tell him about our marriage, but when she contacted one of his men, he’d said that Ciaran was “unreachable” at the moment.

  Which meant he was being detained for questioning, probably. No one was “unreachable” in the twenty-first century, unless their cell phone had been confiscated.

  “Daniel,” she spoke to one of her father’s men on the phone, “if I don’t hear from my father by tomorrow, I’m going to the police myself. I, at least, need to know he’s not dead.”

  It was Thursday night, and she was sitting on the couch in Jared’s apartment, while Tate and I had just gotten back from a run. Fallon normally joined us, but she’d opted to stay in and make her calls.

  Jared was still at ROTC training, and he’d been gracious enough to let Fallon and me have the extra space in the loft of his apartment this week.

  “Shower?” I asked Fallon as I tore off my sweaty T-shirt.

  She held up a finger for me to wait, still talking on the phone.

  Tate was still breathing hard as she walked into the living room and grabbed her phone.

  “Jared’s mom called,” she said more to herself.

  After pushing some buttons, she held the phone to her ear, calling Katherine back, I would assume.

  I walked into the kitchen, grabbing a Gatorade out of the fridge as they had their conversations. Jared walked in, slamming the door and just as sweaty as Tate and me.

  “Toss me one of those,” he said, gesturing to the Gatorade in my hand and using the bottom of his T-shirt to wipe the sweat off his face.

  Throwing him mine, I snatched another one out of the refrigerator, and we were silent for a few minutes, drinking and catching our breaths.

  “This shit’s for the birds,” he grumbled, yanking his shirt by the back of his neck and pulling it over his head.

  Yeah, my throat itched with laughter.

  Jared in the Army—or whatever branch he was choosing—was still weird to me.

  Jared as part of a team. Jared following orders. Jared pressed and dressed in a uniform. Jared as a leader? For the good of mankind? I still shook my head at the idea.

  “So get out,” I told him. “There’s lots of stuff you could do with your life. Stuff you’d be good at.”

  He look
ed at me like I had three eyes. “I’m not talking about ROTC. I’m talking about Tate. Look at her.”

  I tipped my head around him, watching her on the phone. It was October, and she was running in short shorts and a tank top. Probably to tease him.

  I smiled. I liked Tate a lot. There was even a time when I wanted her. But she was like a sister now.

  The kind of sister I wouldn’t screw, I mean.

  “What about her?” I shrugged.

  He scowled. “She’s driving me nuts, that’s what. She wears stuff like that to turn me on, and it’s working. I’m actually Googling ‘ballroom dancing’ to find out if it’s really that bad.” He looked at me, wincing. “I’m caving.”

  I threw my head back, laughing. “You look like you’re about to cry,” I choked out.

  “Well, would you do it?” It sounded like an accusation.

  I rolled my eyes. “How long have you known me, dude? There’s not a lot I wouldn’t do.”

  He blinked long and hard, knowing that that was true and then turned his head to watch Tate, probably daydreaming about all the things he was missing out on.

  Fallon hung up and walked over, smiling as I put my arm around her.

  “Everything okay?” I asked.

  She nodded. “For now.” And then she scrunched up her nose. “You need a shower.”

  I shot a look to Jared. “Can we have the bathroom first?”

  His fist tightened around the Gatorade, and I felt sorry for him. He probably wanted to do the same with Tate, and he was hurting.

  “All right,” Tate called. “We need to pull together for this, so listen up.”

  All heads turned to her as she walked up to the bar in the kitchen.

  She arched an eyebrow in Jared’s direction but withheld eye contact, and I had to fold my lips between my teeth to stifle a laugh.

  “Your dad.” She looked at me. “And your mom.” She finally looked at Jared. “Are going to your family’s charity function tomorrow.” She then looked between Fallon and me, talking about our parents’ Triumph Charity for Disabled Children.

  I absorbed what she said, surprised but not uncomfortable by the news.

  My dad and Katherine were appearing as a couple at his and his wife’s charity function.

  That would be awkward for some people. Not me, though.

  “So,” she continued. “Katherine has invited us to attend, but I think it’s more for moral support.”

  “Did she tell you that?” Jared asked, looking concerned.

  “No, but I just got the impression. It’s her first public appearance with your dad”—Tate looked to me—“and his wife and her friends will be there.” Her eyes snapped to Fallon, an apology in them. “I’m sure there will be talk. We have a family table, so all of us will be seated together for dinner.”

  I jerked my chin at Tate. “Is Jax going?”

  “She said he’d be there.”

  “Okay, then.” I cleared my throat. “Let’s do it.”

  “Fallon?” Tate picked up her bag off the barstool. “Meet you after your noon class tomorrow, and we’ll go shopping?”

  “Sounds good.”

  Tate looked up to me, ordering, “And you two get tuxes.” She referred to Jared as well but didn’t look at him.

  She swung the strap of her bag over her head to rest at her hip and grabbed her jacket, walking to the door.

  “Where are you going?” Jared snapped.

  “Back to the dorm,” she barked, rounding the wall leading to the door. Fallon and I couldn’t see her, but Jared shot her a death glare.

  “Unless you’ve changed your mind about dancing,” she singsonged, taunting him.

  He scowled but then his eyes widened, and he shot out of the chair. “Did you just flash me?”

  We heard the door open and slam shut, and he left, chasing after her.

  CHAPTER 32

  FALLON

  On the drive I held my hands in my lap, clenching my fists so hard that my nails were digging into my palm. My body was strung tight, and I could feel my pulse throbbing in my neck.

  Son of a bitch. I did not want to see that woman tonight.

  Or any night.

  “What are you doing?” Madoc asked as he drove up to the valet at the Lennox House, the usual venue for the annual Triumph Charity Event.

  Hitting Send, I stuffed my phone back into my bag. “Texting my dad to let him know where I’m at in case he’s able to get in touch.”

  “You’re worried about him.”

  I shook my head. “I’m worried about you.” I smirked at Madoc, trying to hide my concern. “My dad still might kill you.”

  I caught the little smile on his lips before he climbed out of the car. Coming around to my side, he opened my door and then tossed his keys to the attendant.

  “He’s not going to kill me.” He kissed me on the forehead and then turned to nod at Jared helping Tate out of his car behind us.

  “You’re so sure.”

  He snorted. “Of course. Everyone loves me.”

  Yes. Yes, we do.

  Placing my hand on the inside of his elbow, we walked into the large ballroom, followed by Jared and Tate. Both Madoc and Jared wore black wool suits with crisp white shirts and black silk ties. Madoc had a deep purple handkerchief, and Jared had nothing. Their shoes shined, their hair was adorably messy, and they were hard not to look at.

  Judging from the ladies turning heads when we walked in, I’m guessing they weren’t ogling Tate and me.

  Well, maybe. We looked pretty good, too. We’d both decided to stick with black, opting for cute little cocktail dresses.

  She wore a sleeveless black dress with a sheer overlay that fell to mid-thigh and flared out just a little from the waist down. It shined with horizontal, black, silk striping and showed off her great legs and arms. Her sunshine hair was curled and then pulled over into a side ponytail at the bottom of her neck.

  I’d also opted for a sleeveless dress but with more of a draping effect. The boatneck strap circled my neck and drew together down low in the back. It was bunched up at the left side of my waist and was held with a gold jewelry piece. My hair was styled with big curls, but I had thrown it over my shoulder, so I could feel Madoc’s hand on my back.

  And while Tate and I wore strappy black heels, we still fell inches below our men.

  I inhaled the fragrance of flowers in the air. My mother loved events like this, even if she was only in it for the prestige.

  “Wow, this is going to be fun.” I heard Jared’s sarcastic sigh behind me. “Where’s my mom at? And my brother?”

  No one said anything as we surveyed the enormous ballroom, looking for Jason, Katherine, and Jax.

  The room was crowded already. Filled with the happy sounds of chatter, laughter, and music, the room was dressed in white draperies, white lights, and white flowers everywhere. The shiny windows around the room let the moonlight spill in, adding to the soft glow in the room. Not overly bright, but not too dark.

  The stage, also decorated in white, featured a podium and a band playing some peppy covers. The dance floor was already fairly busy with three to four dozen couples dressed in their finest and smiling among their glittering jewels. Around the dance floor sat dozens of round tables adorned with white linens, candles, and the finest crystal.

  “All right,” Tate started. “We’ll circulate—”

  “Welcome!” A voice I knew too well confronted us, and my back stiffened.

  Turning around, I arched an eyebrow at my mother who approached us with a glass of champagne in one hand and a very young escort in the other.

  Someone that young and handsome—who looked like he followed orders—had to be an escort.

  She wore a floor-length black evening gown with a black lace overlay and cap sleeves. Her blond hair was in a chic, tight updo, and her makeup was stunning. She looked about eight years younger than she was.

  Coming around in front of us, she looked at us with mock concer
n. “It’s funny. I don’t remember sending any of you an invitation. But . . .” She peered behind me, probably ogling Jared, but I was too disgusted to find out. “You are all most welcome.”

  “You don’t invite us to my family’s functions, Patricia,” Madoc spoke low and threatening. “And Fallon has more of a right to be here than you do. You’re on your way out of the family, remember?”

  “Oh, that’s right.” She tipped her chin at us, smiling. “I forgot about your marriage. Congratulations.” Her eyes dropped to my hand, and her jeering expression made me want to punch her.

  “I see you got the family ring,” she observed, taking another sip of her champagne. “It’ll be a comfort to you when you’re alone at night, and he’s off screwing someone else. He probably already is. Didn’t take his father long after our marriage.”

  Madoc stepped forward, but I yanked him back. “No,” I warned. “She’s grasping at straws. Let her spew her words.” And then I looked at my mom. “They’re all she has, after all.”

  Her face tightened, and her eyebrow shot up. “You’ll see. It may be one year or five, but you will see.”

  She spun around with her fancily dressed and enormously quiet boy toy and walked off.

  “Wow.” Tate laughed the kind of laugh where the only other option is to cry. I understood the feeling.

  “Are you okay?” she asked next to me.

  “I’m fine.” I nodded and let go of Madoc’s arm. I couldn’t hold on to him like a security blanket all night. “I should’ve hit her.”

  “I would’ve,” Tate deadpanned.

  Jared and Madoc snorted at the same time, and Tate looked down, smiling to herself. I got the impression that there was a joke I wasn’t getting.

  She smirked at me, seeing my confusion. “Violence never solves anything, but”—she paused—“it can get people’s attention. Sometimes—and I stress sometimes—violence is the only thing some people respect. Take Madoc for example. I broke his nose and kicked him in the balls. He finally understood me.”

  Wait, what?

  “Excuse me.” I looked between Madoc and Tate. Jared rolled his eyes when I looked to him for explanation.

  “You didn’t tell her about us, Mr. Can’t-Keep-His-Hands-to-Himself?” Her expectant eyes on Madoc made him blush.