Mama and Godfrey both flinched, but Gigi didn’t even blink at the display of his temper except to down some more wine.
My cheeks burned with embarrassment and anger, but I knew better than to try and defend myself to him. “I was counting on my trust fund to get me situated in a house. I wanted to take photography lessons and try my hand at opening my own business.”
Granddaddy just laughed. It was a mean, grating sound—precisely the way my father’s had sounded. “You think I’m going to give away a fortune to you so that you can waste it on frivolous hobbies and terrible business ventures? Royal, it’s time to grow up.”
“Wait a minute, Granddad. Come on, so Royal screwed up, so what?” Godfrey said, trying to come to my defense, but I shook my head at him to stop. He was just wasting his time. He frowned over at me.
“Screwed up is a modernized term that tries to minimize a person’s failures. Royal is twenty-four years old with nothing to show for it, and she continually behaves like an irresponsible teenager.”
I tugged on the hem of my dress so hard that I felt it rip. I turned to my mama. “May I be excused?” I said, barely able to contain the rage that wanted to pour from my eyes. I was an angry crier, and I hated that. It always made me seem like a blubbering, weak idiot when what I really wanted to do was yell and dig my heels in.
I didn’t wait for my mama to give permission. Just scooted my chair out and slapped my cloth napkin on the chair. I passed by the cook, Carlotta, on my way out, giving the Italian fifty-year-old woman an apologetic smile since I’d be missing out on the rest of the meal she’d worked so hard on. I’d been looking forward to dessert too, but I couldn’t stand to sit there and listen to my granddaddy list out all the ways I disappointed him. I’d gotten enough of that from my parents to last a lifetime.
“There is another option, Royal.” My granddaddy’s voice stopped me in my tracks, but I didn’t turn around to face him. Just waited for his words to hit me like knives in the back. “You can get married to someone suitable. You’re twenty-four years old. You only have a couple more years before you’re considered old stock. If law school isn’t to your liking, I suggest you settle down and become a housewife. Then your husband can keep you under thumb since we seem unable to.”
Pops went off in my ears like faraway explosions, and the first of my anger dripped out of my eyes. Without another word, I walked out of the dining room, into the hall, and out through the front door. I didn’t have my phone or keys or even suitable shoes, but I just needed to get out before I started screaming. I pulled, pulled, pulled on my dress hem as I walked, not even caring if I ripped the damn thing right off.
I only made it down the front steps in the yard when a certain red sports car came up the drive and pulled in front of me. The window rolled down, letting the fresh air of the AC and loud rock music blast out.
“Hey, Your Majesty,” Luis purred, his dark eyes sweeping over my face. “I was just coming to see Godfrey, but you look like you need a lift.”
He either had the best timing in the world or the worst, but for right now, I didn’t care to analyze which.
I yanked open the door and got in, wiping my wet cheeks with my hands. “You sure are suave sometimes, Salvador. I’ll give you that.”
“You’ll be giving me a lot more than that before I’m through with you,” he said, tossing me a carnal smirk as he rolled up the window and started to drive away.
I scoffed and rolled my eyes at his lewd comment, but at the same time, I had to fight off a heated smile.
Just like that, Luis broke through my anger, making me feel instantly better. He was good at that. And just for one more night, I was going to let him. One more night of feeling like me—of feeling free—and then I was going to have to return under my family’s thumb.
“Where to, Mamacita?” he asked.
I sighed and looked away from the house. One more night. “Anywhere but here.”
“Your wish is my command.”
Chapter Four
Royal
The auditorium was packed full. We sat shoulder-to-shoulder in the stifling heat, fanning ourselves with our graduation programs as Principal Livingston droned on. That woman sure did like the sound of her voice. I couldn’t see Scarlett’s face, but I was certain she was rolling her eyes at her attention-prone mother and her need to be center stage. Her speech had lasted a good forty-five minutes.
The graduating class was dressed in their navy blue gowns and caps, sitting in front of the stage in rows of preppy perfection. The entire place was glittering with prestige, from the emblems and championship banners hanging up on the walls, to the expensive wood flooring. Even the bleachers, which were supposed to be uncomfortable on principle, were cushioned. Rich asses didn’t like to sit on bare metal.
The Heirs were all together despite the alphabetical order that everyone was supposed to be sitting in. Bonham sat between Godfrey and Luis, while Rogue sat on the end, his arm slung around Scarlett. Godfrey kept glancing back at Rachel and me, mostly to check out his hot girlfriend who decided to piss my grandparents off by wearing a slutty schoolgirl outfit, but also to make sure Granddaddy wasn’t giving me any trouble. Which he was, of course.
“Sit up straighter, Royal,” Granddaddy snapped at me before slapping my upper thigh. It stung a bit, but I ignored him.
I was wearing a tame gray dress and staring ahead, pride filling my chest. Despite everything else going on, I loved that I could be here to watch my brother graduate. I was proud of the man he’d become. No matter what anyone else thought they knew about him and the other Heirs, they were better men than probably anyone else in this whole damn audience.
The Heirs had been running this whole town for so long, there was an air of anxiety about tonight. Everyone wanted to know what they would do next. Everyone wanted to know how much power they’d flex now that they were adults and free from the cage of a school that barely contained them. The newspaper even showed up, eager to get pictures of the handsome crew accepting diplomas.
“If you snap your gum one more time, I’ll cut your tongue out,” Granddaddy hissed at me.
Beside me, Rachel made a big show of blowing an obnoxiously large bubble and slumping back in her chair, an act of defiance I wish I could emulate.
“Yes, Granddaddy,” I whispered, swallowing my gum down like a rock to my gut.
“Don’t speak to me.”
Rachel’s eyes widened, and she leaned over to me. “Not exactly the sweet and cuddly grandpa other people have, huh?”
“Nope,” I whispered back.
“And now, we have our class valedictorian, Bonham Brodie, who would like to give a few words,” Principal Livingston said with pride as she stretched her arm out to welcome him on stage and then went to sit with the other faculty behind the podium.
All eyes were on Bonham as he ascended the steps to the stage, watching his expression for any slip, any pain. He showed nothing. Bonham simply limped up, pushing past the teacher who was holding a hand out to help him.
Once he was behind the podium, it was like the crowd let out a collective sigh. Everyone knew how serious his injury was, and the fact that he still made valedictorian despite spending most of his senior year in and out of surgeries and physical therapy was surprising.
“Good evening,” he began in that charming good-boy voice we all swooned at.
Live video of him was being projected on the screen hanging above him on the stage, so everyone had a perfect view of his handsome face. Dimpled chin, dirty blonde hair, and green eyes that used to be welcoming, but now just looked harsh—it was easy to see why every female in this place suddenly sat up straighter. I looked over at my mother and saw that even her hardened face had melted into a smile.
“Oh man, this oughta be good,” Rachel whispered beside me.
Bonham had a piece of paper in his hand, but as he leaned against the podium, I watched him crumple it in his fist and toss it to the ground. Principal Livingston’s pa
sted-on smile tightened. Bonham’s cool smile turned bitter as he scanned the crowd. “You know, I was going to say a speech about overcoming obstacles. I bet each of you would just love to use my experience to find metaphors for your own shitty problems. But I’m not going to let you get off on my pain. Not tonight, at least.”
My eyes widened. Bonham had lost his damn mind.
I let out a breath of shaky air and noticed movement off to the side. Mrs. Salvador had arrived late and was swaying towards an occupied seat, nearly sitting in someone’s lap. She was disheveled despite her designer dress and shoes, and kept talking and laughing way too loudly. Oh shit.
“Here’s a life lesson for you,” Bonham went on. My attention was torn between watching a self-destructive Bonham and a clearly loaded Mrs. Salvador. Bonham leaned in to the microphone on the podium. “No amount of money, charm, social superiority, or class can stop the world from taking a giant shit on you.”
Everyone in the room gasped. Except of course, Mrs. Salvador. She laughed loudly and clapped her hands together. I made the decision right there to get up and go to her. “Where are you going?” Granddaddy asked, clearly pissed, but I ignored him while crouching over to the outskirts of the auditorium, stepping on toes as I went.
“The world is a cruel, heartless bitch. You can go through life thinking you’ll never be scathed, or you can go through it expecting the worst. And as someone who has experienced both mindsets, I’d rather be a pessimist than an optimist, because it’s more realistic.”
Bonham Brodie’s parents were going to skin him alive.
“You think you’re untouchable because of the privileges this small town has given you? Just wait,” Bonham spat. “Most of you won’t amount to anything. You’ll marry for money and cheat on your spouses. You’ll get meaningless jobs by throwing around your family name. You’ll fill your existential void with materialistic bullshit. You think you got the world on a string? You’re wrong. It’s the world who’s got you wrapped in a noose.”
I finally made it to Mrs. Salvador, who was now leaning against the railing, one shoe missing as she argued with a man on the row next to her about stealing her nonexistent seat and kept trying to sit in his lap. The Missus didn’t look too happy about it.
I wrapped my fingers around her wrist and tugged gently. “Come on, Mrs. Salvador. I got us a seat in the back.”
“Optimists are opportunists,” Bonham’s voice went on.
A quick glance at the stage showed that Principal Livingston looked about ready to shit an entire brick house. Security was waiting nervously at the bottom of the stage steps, but really, what were they going to do? They definitely didn’t want to be the ones to drag off the wounded, adored Savannah Heir.
Principal Livingston jumped out of her seat and was saying something to Bonham, too far away from the mic for anyone to hear. He shook his head at her. “No. They think that all the social ladders and secrets mean something, but it doesn’t,” he said, waving his arm across the room to indicate all the graduates. “None of this means anything. You’re born nothing. You live as nothing. You’ll die nothing, too.”
“That’s cheerful,” I mumbled under my breath.
I guided Mrs. Salvador to the back while she whooped and cheered on Bonham, bringing a smile to my face, despite the circumstances. “He’s such a charmer,” she whispered in my ear as I found us two seats in the very back, hidden in the shadows of the room.
“He’s something alright,” I added.
“So...happy graduation, I guess,” Bonham concluded with a sinister smile and a shrug. “Enjoy your pathetic, meaningless life. Or don’t. It really doesn’t matter.”
Tense silence filled the auditorium. Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. Even the cameraman didn’t know what to do as he continued recording. Crickets. Totally awkward crickets.
Finally, a slow, loud clap echoed throughout the room. Luis Fucking Salvador stood up and gave his embittered, broken friend a standing ovation. And what one Heir did, everyone else wanted to mimic. So it only took about four seconds for the rest of the people to get up on their feet and clap right along with him.
Bonham Brodie basically just told everyone that their lives were meaningless, and they were applauding him. His scowl just deepened.
It took Principal Livingston a few terse hand motions to get everyone to settle down again, but by that time, Bonham was already back in his seat, ignoring the stares and whispers that everyone cast around him.
I had a hard time containing Mrs. Salvador in her seat. She was loaded, swaying against me as drool pooled out of her mouth. When Luis’s name was called, my chest panged. He looked so handsome, so proud. I had to nudge Mrs. Salvador to remind her to cheer. And boy, did she overcompensate.
“MIJO, YOU DID IT!! I’M SO PROUD OF YOU. I LOVE YOU, MIJO. I LOVE YOU!”
She was so loud that everyone turned in their seats to look at us, and I watched in horror as Luis’s charming smile slipped from his face. He knew his mother was high. He knew.
When the ceremony was done, everyone congregated in the main hall for refreshments. I held on to Mrs. Salvador’s arm the entire way. I was trying to convince her not to steal all the mints from one of the tables, when my parents and the rest of the Heirs walked up.
Mama was talking with Principal Livingston, and when she spotted me, her eyes lit up with false adoration. “I’m sorry to hear that Scarlett won’t be following your husband’s legacy at Harvard. Our Royal just loved her time at Yale, and it’s done wonders for her career. Did you know she’s working at the hospital now? It was a perfect fit after all that work she did in the Doctors Without Borders program. You know, she really made such a difference out there. They were disappointed to lose her. I bet it’s only a matter of time before she’s running the nursing department.”
I was barely able to contain a snort at the level of ridiculousness she was spewing. Mama was lying through her teeth, and everyone knew it. She liked to dote on me, pretended to be a proud mother in the public eye while spitting on my life behind closed doors. My parents hand-picked my life and made sure everyone knew that they deserved the credit for it. She loved to play the perfect daughter card whenever she could, hoping that if she said it enough, it would be true. She was still trying to do damage control on the rumors about me being kicked out of Ecuador.
“Yes, you must be so proud. I was sorry to hear that she had to leave Ecuador early,” Principal Livingston lashed out with a fake smile. “You must be happy to have her home, though. I hear that handsome Dr. Carmichael was especially sad to see her go.”
They were sparring with false social niceties, and I wanted nothing to do with it.
“Ma, you came,” Luis said gently before wrapping her up in a hug. I was too busy listening to my mother lie about me to notice that I was still clutching her arm. I let go reluctantly then watched as Luis held her shoulders and peered into her eyes. Everyone else was watching now too. Everyone knew she was high as hell.
“My boy, all grown up!” Mrs. Salvador said while cocking her head to the side, like she could see the world better when it was tipped on its axis.
“Let’s go home, yeah?” Luis finally choked out. I could feel the disappointment rolling off of him in waves.
“What about the graduation party?” Principal Livingston asked.
He shook his head. “I need to get her home.”
“Need any help?” I blurted out, feeling the eyes of my family on my shoulders as I did. I didn’t dare turn to look at them.
“That’s a great idea,” Godfrey interrupted.
He understood more than the others why I was eager to be out of the house. A social function would just be a night full of people whispering about why I was home and Mama trying to prove that I was the perfect doll she groomed me to be.
I looked at my brother, sad that I couldn’t celebrate his graduation like I wanted—with a couple of beers and pizza. But we’d meet up later.
“That would be great, Royal,”
Luis replied, though for some reason the tips of his ears were pink. Was he embarrassed that I suggested it?
Not wanting to look uncharitable, Mama cleared her throat and spoke up. “Yes, well, it’s obvious Luis will need help. Since Royal is a phenomenal nurse, she’d be the best choice to assist you.” I noted how she felt the need to call everyone’s attention to Mrs. Salvador’s current state to make me—and by extension her—look better.
Luis shook his head and started easing Mrs. Salvador, who was mumbling in Spanish, out the auditorium and towards the parking lot as I trailed behind. His car was on the first row, and we eased her into the backseat before climbing in the front.
“You didn’t have to come with me, you know,” Luis murmured before starting the car. The low purr of the engine covered up Mrs. Salvador’s snores. The moment her ass hit the plush leather, she passed out. She was a wreck, but at least she showed up. That had to mean something.
“I wanted to,” I admitted.
“Because you wanted away from your family, or because you wanted to help the town charity case?” Luis gritted. Was he seriously mad I was here?
“Maybe a little bit of both. And maybe I wanted to celebrate with you.”
I watched as his eyebrow arched.
“You want to celebrate with me?” The broody mood from before dissipated and the playful Luis I knew returned. “Well, why didn’t you say so? I can think of a few ways we can celebrate.”
My face heated at his words, and I gripped my thighs to stop myself from feeling the thudding threat of arousal in my body. I ached. One playful comment, and I fucking ached for him. What was wrong with me? I shouldn’t like him. I wasn’t supposed to like him.
I cleared my throat awkwardly. “I was thinking some beer and pizza, yeah?”
Luis let out a sigh before looking in the rearview mirror. “I would love nothing more than to take you home and party the night away, but I need to take Ma to her sobriety counselor. We have to take her every time she relapses, and it’s a confidential thing,” Luis said in a grave tone. “I’ll drop you off at home though?”
Wild: Savannah Heirs Page 5
