I grinned. “Absolutely perfect.”
* * *
Jude
I stumbled home at quarter past three. I found the stairs to be just a bit tricky, seeing as I had downed the bulk of that vodka during my car ride. But, I managed them just fine with the help of the bannister. At the top of the stairs, the pristine hallway gently lit with low lighting made me snort. Pretty funny how every object, every piece of furniture--every small fucking detail--was curated to make this hellhole seem welcoming and beautiful. That thought struck me as so amusing that I sank to the floor against the wall at the top of the steps.
And while I was down here, I went ahead and lit up a cigarette to enjoy.
I couldn’t put the rest of the evening’s events together, but when I woke up a few hours later to a hard nudge and the cold glare of one of my mother’s assistants, I found myself in bed. Not slumped in the hallway with a lit cigarette in my hand, but somehow covered up with my down comforter in the safety of my bedroom.
I had a throbbing headache as well, and my tongue was the texture of sandpaper.
“Jude, you burned a hole in the carpet.”
The foreign voice seemed far away as I slowly rolled over. I groaned and I blinked away the blurriness, waiting for my eyes to focus on where the voice was coming from. But, all I saw was something pointing to the carpet, so I peeked over the edge of my bed.
Yep, my cigarette had landed on the pretty white carpet and burned straight through, where it had smoldered and died an ashy death.
I laughed and leaned my head back against my pillow.
“Jude.” The voice was more insistent now.
I peered up at the tight-lipped clone of Congresswoman Carlisle.
Ah, that’s the voice. Go away, voice.
“Your mother wants you to know that your wedding date has been set. You and Margeaux are to be married on June 8th. Save the date.”
With her message delivered, she turned and clicked down the stairs, leaving me in the silent agony I’d lived with my entire life.
My hangover increased tenfold. June eighth. In a handful of months, I would be a married man. The idea brought the taste of bile up my throat. Using the wall for support, I staggered into my bedroom and vomited, barely making the toilet. I brushed my teeth and then collapsed into my bed, yanking the comforter over my head. If this was how I would have to live to bear a life with Margeaux, I didn’t know how long I would survive.
And with that happy thought, I sank into a deep sleep as the sun rose over the massive mansion that had become nothing but a prison to my aching soul.
* * *
Brooklyn
As soon as I arrived at the manor that day, I could sense that something was off. My first clue was Jude’s new red Ferrari parked haphazardly in the front drive. But, the ominous storm building in the distance despite the sun shining brightly in the sky didn’t help matters. Even from the front door, there was a faint smell of stale smoke. And when I walked into the kitchen, Janey greeted me with a wet vacuum and a tool bag.
“Uh… what is this for?” I asked plainly.
She shoved the items into my hands. “Mr. Jude burned the carpet outside of his bedroom and by his bed. Everything you need to repair it is in this bag.”
I blinked. “I have no idea how to repair burned carpet.”
She rolled her eyes. “Like I said, everything you need is in the bag.”
“You’re not getting me here, Janey. I’m going to need YouTube at the very least. Unless you want me just to make the carpet worse.”
Janey had chilled with the body checks when I entered the house as well as some of her other ‘security measures,’ but the no-phone rule had remained unmovable. She looked at me with a glare in her eyes, as if that would somehow magically teach me how to repair carpet that had been burnt to death and back. But, she knew she was stuck.
Then, she caved. “Fine. Bring your phone up to help you with the carpet, but as soon as you’re finished, it goes right back into your car. Don’t mess with me on this.”
I grinned. “At least you’re done with that drawer nonsense. Did Mrs. Carlisle ask you to stop doing that?”
Her voice grew harsh. “Get to it, before I get Mrs. Carlisle in here to let her tell you what will happen with that phone next.”
I went out to my car to grab my phone and brought it upstairs with me. The hole wasn’t as bad as I had feared, but it looked terrible and smelled even worse. How had he even managed to light a fire through the carpet out in the hallway? What, had he just dropped his cigarette on the ground on his way in last night? I shook my head and got down onto my knees, readying myself for this insane task at hand.
Then, I pulled up YouTube.
I came across a video on repairing carpet and watched it twice. And while it seemed easy enough, I had to make sure I went as slowly as possible so I didn’t fuck anything up. After all, the carpet strewn all throughout this house just had to be a pristine, crisp white. Which practically showed every speck of dust and dirt and showcased every mistake to be had by the cleaning staff. I sighed as I scrubbed around the area first and snipped stray threads. Then, it was time to cut away the part that was burned. As I sawed at the carpet, I wondered if I could use this to my advantage. I mean, this was the first time I had been able to get my phone into the house since Jude and Lila had walked in on me and Merritt in the shed back last year.
Be careful with this. This might be your only chance.
While I was vacuuming out the hole, an idea began to form. And by the time I had fit the replacement piece in and added carpet adhesive, I knew exactly what I was going to do. I slowed down my task, wanting to make it last through Janey’s lunch. I kept a close eye on the time and busied myself snipping each individual loose strand one by one so that I looked preoccupied if anyone came up to check.
When I finished, I gathered up all the destroyed carpet, the leftover pieces, and the trash. I walked downstairs and popped my head into the kitchen, then leveled my voice out as much as I could. There was Janey, sitting there at the kitchen table while she looked something over. And after a silent breath in, I initiated the first part of my plan.
“Taking these out back to the trash,” I said.
To which Janey simply nodded in my general direction. Hell, she didn’t even bother to look back at me! I had timed this perfect, and I knew I couldn’t let this moment go to waste. So, with my back straight while I buried the smile on my face, I set off toward the back door.
Walking at as normal of a pace as I could while excitement rushed through my veins.
As soon as I had descended the few steps into the garden, I tossed a glance over my shoulder to make sure no one was looking. No one was at the back door, but this was a house of tinted windows. I would just have to hope I’d be lucky, and no one would be looking out a window for the next two minutes.
I dropped my armful of supplies and sprinted to the window I knew was the congresswoman’s. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I closed everything, silenced it, and opened a recording app. On her windowsill was a planter with a row of brightly colored fake flowers, and I almost barked with laughter. Fake flowers in her damn windowsill. Just as fake as her and the rest of this family. I ducked beneath the sill and reached a hand to snag the planter, trying to move it away as smoothly as possible. Then, I shoved my hand in the soil that held the fake flowers—as odd as that was—and pulled out a clod of dirt, dropping my phone into the hole I’d made.
I situated it so that the speaker was at the top and moved the leaves so that if you were looking at it from the office, you would see the planter but not the end of the phone. And into the phone, I whispered, ‘Testing, this is January 4th and I’m Brooklyn James.’
No time to check or play with it, I would just have to hope for the best. I slid the planter back onto the sill and stayed low to the ground as I scuttled back to the fallen carpet pieces. My heart was thumping, so I made myself slow down and gather the pieces a bit at a tim
e, leaving nothing behind. Then, I shot a quick glance over one shoulder and tried my best to look as nonchalant as possible while I took the scrapes over to the trash bin before returning inside.
I found Janey measuring cheese slices on the digital kitchen scale when I came in and she didn’t bother to look up.
Time to seal the deal.
“I’m taking my phone back to my car and having my lunch,” I said, leaving quickly so she wouldn’t have time to ask to see the phone.
Once to my car, I collapsed into my seat and leaned back, letting my heartbeat return to normal. I had no idea if the phone would pick up anything at all, but I felt better than I had in weeks just for the sheer fact of trying something. I had let all of this go for far too long.
By the time I returned to the kitchen, Janey was nowhere to be seen. My heart seized in my chest as I peeked outside, wondering if she had wandered out back. But when I found her, relief rushed through my veins.
Because I found her examining my handiwork on the upstairs carpet instead of outside, traipsing around like she did sometimes.
“You did a good job,” she said begrudgingly.
I nodded. “Thanks.”
She looked me over. “Did you leave your phone in the car?”
“Yep.”
“Let’s check.” She waved me forward and ran her hands over my pockets and down my arms and legs. I rolled my eyes but wasn’t all that annoyed. Let her waste her time looking in the wrong place.
I had bigger things on my mind, anyway.
8
Lila
The stink in our hallway leftover from Jude’s infantile immaturity pissed me off at first. But then, it worried me. He never drank like this, and if he was doing it by himself, that was even worse. The last conversation I had with Margeaux rushed through my mind. I swallowed down the bile that seemed determined to work its way up the back of my throat as I slid myself out of my bedroom. I waited until I heard his shower going before I grabbed him a latte from the kitchen.
Then, I went knocking on his door.
“Yeah,” he said.
Not a question, or a proclamation of entrance. But, a subtle acceptance for the fact that someone wanted him. It didn’t sit right with me. The more the days ticked by, the more none of this sat right with me.
I just didn’t know what to do about it.
I opened the door and saw him sitting at the edge of his bed in just a towel. His face looked pale and drawn, and there were dark bags beneath his eyes. I handed him his coffee and leaned against his window, studying him with prying eyes.
I decided a nonchalant attitude was the way to go with him right now. Especially since he looked like he was seconds away from imploding and taking all of us with him.
I sipped my coffee. “Nice work on the carpet, bro.”
One corner of his lips twitched up. “Oops.”
“The whole house stinks. Who did you go out with? Preston?” I tried to say it with a laugh, but it came out forced, and I knew he picked up on it.
“Me, myself, and I.” He took a drink of his coffee.
“Wow. How much did you drink?” I knew that was a mistake as soon as the words left my mouth.
He shot me a blank look. “Like you’re one to talk.”
He was right. Between the two of us, I had always been the drinker, the over-indulger. The one who passed out drunk and woke up, somehow, even drunker than before. Still, I didn’t like to hear him say it.
I bristled. “Yeah, but I’ve never set the fucking house on fire.”
He rolled his eyes. “You call that setting the house on fire? Little dramatic there, Li.”
I took a breath. No one, and I mean no one, could piss you off like a sibling. But, this wasn’t about me. “You’re right.”
I saw his shoulders loosen some and knew we had gained a little ground back. I let a few minutes of silence pass before continuing, hoping he still felt like talking with me.
“Jude,” I said, my tone carefully even. “Is this about Dad?”
“Dad?” That seemed to snap him out of his indifference. “What the hell are you talking about?”
I shrugged. “The anniversary of his death is coming up.”
The room was quiet, and as I gazed back out the window I watched the gardener checking on the plants covered from the winter cold.
Then, Jude’s hardened voice sounded. “It’s not about Dad. I didn’t even know the anniversary was coming up.”
“Maybe you think you didn’t know, but subconsciously it’s been ticking inside of you like a bomb ready to go off,” I said.
“Yeah, maybe you’re right.”
I went and sat next to him, taking his hand. “I miss him.”
He nodded slowly. “Me too.”
“Do you think Mom misses him?”
He snorted. “I don’t think she feels anything like that. She was probably glad to have something to work with, the poor widow rising from tragedy and raising her kids alone.” He rolled his eyes. “Never mind the team of security guards, cooks, and maids.”
“I wish he’d never gotten on that damn helicopter.” My voice thickened with tears.
“Snap out of it.” Jude stood up. “Let’s go do something fun.”
“Like what?” I rubbed at my eyes.
“Let’s go to the harbor and get trashed and pour one out for him at the end of the pier. With any luck, we’ll end up on the news, pissing Mom off as a bonus.”
“Jude…,” I started, thinking of his recent escapades, and the threat of the basement that always loomed.
“Don’t be a stick in the mud, Li. Go get dressed up and wipe that sad look off your face. Come on, let’s go. We’ll get a big, boozy lunch at the Seashell and charge Mom’s card with a bill no less than five-hundred dollars.”
I laughed. “Fine.”
“Go!” He clapped his hands at me. “I’ll get dressed up too. And hurry before Mom decides to rope us into something here.”
9
Brooklyn
It was freezing in my apartment. So cold that stepping out onto my balcony felt like a relief. I slid the glass door shut behind me and sat on the stool; my glass of whiskey held tight in my hand that was bright white from the cold. I drew in a deep breath of the crisp air and let it inflate my lungs. I forced my body to stop shivering as I let out the even breath, allowing the cold to assault my body. I missed them more than I could stand. My heart ached at the idea of not having them here. At the remembrance that came with every holiday that I really was alone in this world.
Alone during my Christmas holiday, while everyone else celebrated with their families.
“To you.” I toasted the air and threw back the glass. I fingered the pendant around my neck and squeezed my eyes tightly against the tears that threatened. I needed to keep the tears at bay along with the whiskey for now, or I’d turn into a maudlin drunk. The pain always cut deeply this time of the year, and usually I could throw myself into work or pick up a few extra hours at the mansion to rid myself of the memories. Of the pain. Of the agony that always surfaced around Christmastime.
I missed my parents more than I could stand.
As if on cue, though, the messenger app on my computer rang. I’d had to install it on there since I wouldn’t have my phone again until I could get it back from the soil outside of the Congresswoman’s window. And as I placed my whiskey glass down, I opened the video call, slid on my headphones, and prayed with everything inside of me that she had enough service to talk with me for a bit.
“Hey, Tae.”
“I hope you aren’t drinking.” The line crackled. She was with her parents on their yacht in the Caribbean. And while she tried to get me to come along every year for their family celebration, I had to work. I always had to work.
Especially now, with my plan in play.
“I’m not drinking,” I said, looking guiltily at the empty glass.
“I know you are.” Her voice got lost in a mess of static. “—remember
Brooklyn, they wouldn’t want you to—” Static again.
“I can’t hear you, Tae,” I said, pressing my headphones more tightly to my ear, as if that would help.
“Your parents! They wouldn’t want you to mourn them like this!” she shouted.
I nodded softly. “I know.”
She sighed heavily, and for a second, the line was crystal clear. “How many years ago now?”
I swallowed hard. “Ten.”
“You know they’re watching over you, Bee. And they’re so, so proud of you.”
I swallowed a sob and nodded, knowing she couldn’t see me even though I could kind of see her.
I heard Tae’s voice as clear as daylight. “I don’t know how much longer our connection will hold on, but when the door rings, answer it, okay?”
I snickered. “Is it going to be you?”
“You wish!” she said. “I’ll be back in two weeks. Take care of yourself, babe.”
“Yeah, you too.”
“Love you.” The line crackled and cut out.
I took a deep breath and considered refilling my glass, knowing damn good and well I shouldn’t. But, I was saved from the decision by the door ringing. And Tae’s command was enough to pull me out of my chair.
I never was one to gravitate away from curiosity.
While I probably should have asked who it was, I simply hit the buzzer to let whoever it was up. What had she done? When I opened the door, I saw a pizza deliveryman laden with food, flowers, and a bag bursting with goodies.
“What the…?” I rushed to help him, taking a pizza box and the flowers from him. “Since when did you guys start selling flowers? And brownies, and chips, and… french fries?”
The delivery guy chuckled. “We don’t. The girl who called in offered me two-hundred dollars to pick up the rest of this and bring it to you. You got some friend, that’s for sure.”
I smiled softly for the first time that day. “Yeah. I really do.”
BITTER PRINCE | A DARK COLLEGE BULLY ROMANCE: HEIRS OF HAVOC Page 4
