by Gemma Weir
“God, let them come in white. Fuck that. If they don’t I’m going to contact the designer and offer them an exorbitant amount of money to make you a pair in white,” I say, dragging her body into mine and pushing my hard dick against her stomach.
“I’m not letting you fuck me at a party where anyone could walk in or record us. Becoming internet porn stars is not going to help our cause,” she laughs, pushing at my chest until I reluctantly allow her some space.
“Fine, let’s go be sociable, but you’re gonna have to sit on my lap,” I groan.
Her laugh ricochets through me, filling all the bits that were bitter and angry and making them smile. She’s a fucking witch and I don’t think I’m even fighting it anymore. I’m falling for my little ghost.
The party isn’t too bad until Carrigan and her minions arrive. I’m surprised to see her here; she doesn’t normally come to stuff like this where her parents aren’t shoving her at an eligible guy all night.
When she spots her sister, Tally stiffens, watching as Carrigan grabs two glasses of champagne from a tray and downs them one after the other. Dumping the glasses, she grabs another one and a shot from the shot girl. She throws the shot down, fist-pumping and woo-hooing like a sorority girl on spring break.
“Is she normally like this at parties?” Tally asks me quietly.
“I don’t think so. She doesn’t normally come at all. She likes the more dignified events,” I say drolly.
As we watch, Carrigan drinks four more glasses of champagne and three more shots, before throwing her hands above her hair and dancing exactly where she is, as the people around her all just stare.
Tally’s up and moving before I have chance to stop her. She approaches her sister carefully, catching Carrigan when she staggers slightly to the side. Her eyes look to me, and I stand and make my way to my girl and her drunk ass sister.
When I reach them, I put my hand on Tally’s back, making sure not to touch Carrigan. “You okay?” I ask.
“I’m fine. She can barely speak though. She must have been drinking before she got here.”
I nod, curving my arm around her waist. “Her friends are here; let’s find them and they can take her home.”
Tally shakes her head, biting at her lip. “I don’t want to send her home like this. Take us to a hotel and I’ll stay with her.”
“That’s not happening, little ghost. This could all be a scheme and your parents could ambush you the moment I leave. I’ll rent us a suite at the Hamilton, and we’ll all stay there,” I say resignedly.
“That’s Olly’s family’s hotel?” She asks.
I nod, “Yeah, don’t worry, it’ll be fine.”
I motion to Olly, and he makes his way over to us, a drunken smile on his face. He sobers a little when he sees Tally now almost completely supporting Carrigan. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I need a suite at the Hamilton, at least two bedrooms. Bigger if you guys want to crash there too,” I tell him.
“Sure, give me a minute,” he says, nodding as he moves toward the edge of the terrace, his cell already to his ear. He’s back two minutes later. “I’ve got us the penthouse, it’s huge. I’ll help you get her downstairs. The others will come later,” he says, moving to take Carrigan from Tally, swinging her limp body into his arms as though she weighs nothing.
Lifting my chin to Carson and Wats, they both offer me a slight head nod and I know it won’t be long until they’ve had their fill of pussy for the night and end up at the hotel.
“Are they coming?” Tally asks, as I take her hand and move to follow Olly.
“Later. They need to get laid first. They stopped staying at mine because they were sick of having permanent blue balls from listening to us fuck.”
“Arlo!” she cries, outraged.
“What? It’s true! You’re loud, little ghost,” I laugh.
“I am not.”
“Ask Olly.”
“No!” she splutters, whacking me in the stomach with the back of our joined hands.
The car is waiting for us at the curb, and Olly and I manhandle Carrigan into the back seat where she promptly passes out. We check into the penthouse suite at the hotel and luckily the hotel staff don’t give us a second glance, as Olly carries Carrigan straight through the lobby to the elevator. Once we’re all inside, I slide the key card into the slot and ascend straight to the top floor.
Unlike the dreadfully decorated apartment we just left, the penthouse at the Hamilton screams class and privilege. Olly’s mom is a famous interior designer and she kitted this suite out with every luxury. It has six bedrooms with attached bathrooms, a jacuzzi, terrace, huge living area, office, kitchen, and a games room.
Olly carries Carrigan straight into the first bedroom, but she scrambles from his arms and runs to the bathroom, vomiting into the toilet.
“I’ll look after her,” Tally tells us, ushering us from the room, before turning and heading for her sister.
“Drink?” Olly asks, heading for the fully stocked bar.
“God, please,” I sigh, rubbing my aching temples as I follow him across the room.
“What do you think’s going on with Carrigan? Is this all just a scheme Tally’s family have cooked up to bring her back into line?”
Sighing, I take the glass of amber-colored whiskey from him and drop down onto the couch. “I have no idea, but Tally’s really got it into her head that she needs to help her sister. I’m fucking worried for her,” I admit.
“You’re into her, aren’t you?” Olly asks. “Like this isn’t fake anymore. It’s not guilt; you’re really into her.”
Closing my eyes, I roll my neck back and forth to avoid his question, but when I part my lids he’s staring at me expectantly. “Wouldn’t you be?”
“Hell yeah,” Olly laughs. “If I thought I stood a chance, I’d have tried to take her from you.”
A growl comes from me before he even finishes his sentence.
“Calm down. Anyone with eyes can see she’s yours,” Olly says, a wide grin etched across his face. “Does she feel the same way? I honestly have no idea what she’s thinking half the time. She’s so open, but so closed off. Unless she wants you to know something, it’s impossible to read her.”
“She’s quick to remind me that this is all fake, but she lets me touch her. That’s got to mean something, right?” I shrug.
His burst of laughter is loud and full of unrestrained amusement. “Dude, you are so fucked.”
Nineteen
Tallulah
Carrigan vomits up everything she’s drunk and eaten into the toilet while I hold her hair back. Her usually flawless makeup is melting down her face, as tears leak from her eyes. She looks awful.
“I think I’m done,” she groans, rolling back onto her butt, shuffling until her back hits the side of the bath and she sighs, slumping against it.
“How much did you have to drink?”
“Enough to make me sick,” she snaps, still bitchy despite the state she’s in.
“Wow, most people would be at least slightly grateful for someone holding their hair out of their puke but I suppose I shouldn’t be shocked you’re not,” I grumble, lowering myself to the floor and sitting next to her.
“You look good,” she slurs, eyeing me with unfocused eyes.
“Thanks. It’s nice to wear clothes I actually like,” I laugh. “It helps that Fitzy is delivering clothes to the house every night for me too.”
“How did you do it?” she asks, her expression serious even through the drunken haze.
“Do what?”
“How did you get him to like you?”
“Arlo?” I ask, suddenly wondering where she’s going with this.
She nods and her whole body moves with the motion, like she’s not in control of her movements.
Wrinkling my brow, I consider her question for a moment. “I’m not sure I did anything. Maybe it’s just that I don’t want anything from him, at least not in a permanent sense. I don’t want to co
ntrol him or make him commit to a future at eighteen. We’re friends and he’s nice. I mean he’s an asshole, but he’s nice to me.” I shrug and watch as she drunkenly tries to process what I’ve said.
“But you’re having sex.”
She says this like a statement and not a question, so I don’t bother to deny it.
“Wow. What’s it like?” she asks, her voice wistful and a little sad.
“Awesome.” The word slips from my lips before I can think better of it, and once it’s out, I can’t take it back so I just smile.
Carrigan’s laugh shocks me. This is such a surreal moment, us together talking about sex like normal sisters, normal teenagers.
“They want me to marry Rupert Overston,” she says on a half sob.
“What?”
“Mom and Dad. Now that you and Arlo have been plastered all over the society pages, they’ve decided that Rupert is the next best option.”
“I don’t know who Rupert is,” I say.
“Google him,” she cries, letting her head drop back to rest against the lip of the bath, covering her face with her hands as she half laughs, half cries.
I feel my brow furrow as I pull my cell from where it’s wedged into my back pocket and quickly enter Rupert Overston into a Google search. The first picture that pops up is of a balding, overweight guy in what I’d guess is his thirties. He’s wearing a navy double-breasted jacket with gold buttons, and a white shirt open at the neck to reveal his pink cravat pluming dramatically in an elaborate knot.
I move to the next image, then the next, but the only person I can find is this guy that’s far too old for my beautiful eighteen-year-old sister.
“This guy?” I say, turning the phone to her.
She nods, as another bout of sobs wracks her body. “They told me tonight that he’s all for it, his family is ridiculously rich, and he’s a business genius.”
“Does he know how young you are?” I ask horrified.
She nods. “We went to dinner with him and his parents last night and he cornered me and tried to grope me. He said he’s always liked his girls young and that he can’t wait to break me in. I never thought Mom and Dad would agree, but it’s all done. They want us to announce the engagement by the end of the month.”
“How old is he?”
“Thirty-five.”
Sick to my stomach, I grab Carrigan’s arm and squeeze. “You can’t let them do this. Do you want to marry that pervert, be forced to have children with him? You have to get out; you have to stop this toxic power trip Mom and Dad are on.” My voice is frantic and shrill and apparently loud enough for the guys to hear, because a moment later both Arlo and Olly are in the bathroom, filling the space that really wasn’t intended for four people.
“What’s going on? Tally, are you okay?” Arlo asks, glaring at my sister.
Ignoring him, I focus on Carrigan, needing to know that she isn’t just going to go along with this madness. “Carrigan.”
“What can I do?” she says, her voice little more than a broken whisper.
“You break one of the clauses. Fail a class, fuck a guy, get arrested, withdraw all of your college applications. There are so many things you can do, but you can’t let them force you into a marriage with a guy twice your age that you don’t even know. This is the twenty-first century. Great-grandfather might not have realized it when he wrote that horrid will, but we don’t have to play the game. You can just say no,” I tell her, my voice clear and full of determination. I can’t let her do this for the sake of money.
“They’ll never forgive me if I lose the money,” she whispers.
“It’s just money. We’re rich without it. We’ll never want for anything ever for the rest of our lives. Why do they need more? It’s not like they even get to control the company, that all falls to your future husband. So fuck them. Fuck the stupid will and fuck our evil parents. They don’t care about us, they haven’t since that will was read. You need to think about yourself.”
By the time I finish speaking, my chest is heaving, and anger is pulsing through my muscles.
Strong hands pull me from the floor, and I’m turned in Arlo’s arms as he smiles widely down at me. “You’re so fucking hot when you’re angry, little ghost,” he purrs, a second before his lips find mine.
Our kiss is fast and hard and laced with desire, but I reluctantly pull back, needing to deal with my sister and all of our never-ending drama. Turning in Arlo’s arms, unwilling to leave his embrace, I lean into his body as I look down at my sister. “You can’t let them do this.”
“I’m not like you,” she whimpers. “I’m not strong.”
“Then you have to get strong. You have to force yourself to be brave. I can help you,” I cry. “We can help you.”
“Why? I’ve been so awful to you. I’m just as bad as them, and maybe Rupert is fate’s way of getting revenge,” she whines.
“Stop feeling sorry for yourself,” I shout. “Get up, wash your face, and then let’s sit down in the living room and figure a way to get you out of this mess, and away from Mom and Dad before they find out what you’re doing.”
Two hours and several black coffees later for my sister, all of us, including Carson and Watson are sat around the suite’s living room.
“I don’t understand why we’re even discussing this. It’s simple, fail a test,” Arlo says for the twentieth time.
“My parents have engaged private tutors for every single subject for me. They’re buying the test answers. If I fail a test, they’ll know it was deliberate,” Carrigan hisses, her angry tone grating on me.
“Take a shower, and I’ll fuck you,” Watson offers. “I’m not touching you until you wash off the smell of vodka and puke though.”
“I’m not fucking you. I don’t even like you,” she sneers, turning her nose up at the beautiful boy opposite her.
“But you’ll fuck Rupert Overston,” Wats sneers. “You know he swings both ways, right? Once you’re engaged he’s not going to be able to have his boytoy hanging around, so he’s gonna have his dick in you, then in who knows how many nasty rent boys. But it’s okay because you’ll be rich enough to pay off the doctors when he gives you an STD.”
Carrigan’s jaw drops open, her eyes wide as they fill with tears.
“Wats,” I snap and he immediately looks contrite.
“Look, Carrigan, we’ve been going round and round in circles for over an hour. There’s no way you can break one of the will stipulations without Mom and Dad finding out. But once it’s done, what can they do? We’ll make sure you don’t have to go back to the house and once it’s done, nothing they say or do can change that,” I say matter of fact.
“What about if they do to me what they did to you?” she whispers.
Shrugging, I keep my gaze locked on my sister’s. “I survived, and so will you. If you end up with a few bruises, you take pictures and then you keep them away from you for the rest of your life.”
She shudders visibly and it surprises me how weak she is. I never realized how beaten down by them she was. She’s always struck me as so strong and self-assured, and maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe this is all an act, but right this moment, she looks pitiful.
After a long moment she nods. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yes, I need to do this. I can’t marry Rupert, I just can’t, so I need to figure out a way to fail a test that I know all the answers to,” she says, nodding her head concisely, like she’s convincing herself.
“I have an idea,” Olly says cautiously.
Turning my head, I look at him and find him grimacing slightly. “You’re not going to like it,” he says.
“What?”
“Well, the easiest way to get rid of all of Carrigan’s tutors is if she doesn’t need them anymore,” he says slowly, looking at us all like he’s waiting for us to catch up.
“No,” growls Arlo from beside me, his fingers clenching tightly where they’re wrapped around my waist.
“What?” I ask, twisting to look back at him.
“He’s saying you should go back,” he snarls, his lips pursed in a hard, unyielding line.
“It makes sense,” Olly continues. “Tally moves back in. She plays the role of the subservient daughter. She agrees to take Carrigan’s classes again, only she doesn’t. A week and this would all be over. Carrigan fails, the girls leave, and it’s done.”
“No,” Arlo barks. “Not happening, No. There’s no way I’m letting those evil bastards get her back in that house. I’d never see her again; they’d never let me.”
“He’s right, it’s the easiest way,” I say.
“No. Don’t even think about it. If you step foot in that house, I’ll release those pictures of your face and I’ll tell everyone who will listen. I’d do that for you, Tally, even if it hurt you, because I care about you too much to let them have you again,” he cries, dragging me into his lap and burying his face in my hair, a slight tremor running through him.
“He’s right,” Carrigan says, surprising me. “You can’t go back there. I’ll just fail the next test on purpose. It won’t be hard. I’m pretty clueless even when I’ve got the answers.”
“It’ll be okay,” I say trying to reassure her.
“No, it won’t, but I still have to do it,” she says, pulling her lips into a shaky smile.
“Let’s order room service, I’m starving,” Carson says, breaking the tension and making me smile. The boy is always hungry.
By the time I wake up the next morning, tangled with Arlo in the enormous super king bed, there’s a strong feeling of hopefulness building within me. After we ate delicious food last night, we plotted and talked more about how we could best orchestrate my sister to fail a test, when our parents appear to have the school primed and ready to ensure she graduates with that all important 4.0, no matter the cost.
We’re banking on an unplanned pop quiz or oral discussion or presentation that Mom and Dad’s spies can’t manipulate, to ensure she brings her grade down that significant single point, but we’ve no idea when an opportunity will arise.
“Morning, baby,” Arlo rasps, his voice thick with sleep, his cock hard and enthusiastically saluting the sun against my butt.
