The Rose

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The Rose Page 26

by Tiffany Reisz


  Or worse, her parents being more than friends with him again.

  But what else could she do? Maybe she could quietly hint to her parents she’d heard rumors about David, that he’d screwed over a “friend” of hers? She’d have to figure something out to protect her parents from a blackmailing lying bastard like David Bell.

  That would have to wait, though. First things first.

  Lia hated to do it, but it was time. Thursday evening. She couldn’t put it off another day.

  She found her phone and called David’s number.

  “Lady Ophelia,” he said when he answered. No hello. Just his sneering voice sneering out her name and that ludicrous courtesy title of hers. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “I’ll have your money tomorrow,” she said. “I suppose you’ll want cash?”

  “You have the money?”

  “Yes.”

  “A million pounds?”

  “As you demanded.” August had promised it to her. She knew he’d have it. Nice to be able to trust a man again.

  “Who’d you sleep with to get a million in cash in five days?”

  “A male prostitute,” she said.

  “Usually doesn’t work that way,” he said. “Usually you pay the prostitute, not the other way around.”

  “I’m just that good.”

  “You’ve improved, then.”

  “Your manners haven’t.”

  “That hurts, Lia.”

  “No, it doesn’t.”

  He laughed. She hated his laugh, like he’d won the lottery on a stolen ticket.

  “Listen, I’ve given the whole thing a lot of thought, and I’ve decided I don’t want the money, kid.”

  “You don’t want a million pounds?”

  “Nah. I’m no blackmailer.”

  Lia didn’t believe him for one second.

  “All right,” she said, and waited for the other shoe to drop. He dropped it very quietly.

  “I’d rather just tell the papers about you. That’s worth more than a fortune to me. Good night, Ophelia. See you tomorrow.”

  He rang off before she could get in a last word.

  Lia stared at the phone in her hand.

  That utter bastard.

  She should have known. She absolutely should have known he would play her like this. He’d probably never even wanted the money from her. He just wanted to make her panic and scramble and beg, borrow and steal the money while he sat back and laughed and laughed.

  Lia thought she might faint. Her lungs burned. She was dizzy. She sat down, still clutching her phone. She called August right away, before she could pass out.

  He answered after two rings and she told him what David had told her.

  “I don’t know what to do,” Lia said, eyes hot with tears. It felt like she had a hand around her throat, choking her. “What do I do? What should I—”

  “Lia,” August said, his voice sounding preternaturally calm. “Listen to me. Stop panicking.”

  “I can’t. I can’t. If he calls the papers, it’ll be front-page news all over the country, probably the world. My brothers will get tortured at school. My parents will get ostracized. Georgy’s family will never speak to her again. I—”

  “I’ll figure something out,” he said. “Sit tight. I’ll get it sorted. And please, don’t panic.”

  “What should I do instead?” she demanded. Not panic? Like telling someone jumping off a bridge not to scream.

  “The statue of Aphrodite in your room?” he suggested. “Say a prayer to her.”

  “You’re joking, right?”

  “I’ve never been more serious in my life.”

  “What...what am I supposed to pray for?”

  “Ask her to help you.”

  “Why? What good will that do?”

  “She won’t listen to me,” August said. “She might listen to you. Will you do it?”

  How could she tell him no? She’d do anything for August, and she told him that.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  “August, I’m scared.”

  “I know. But I’ll protect you any way I can.”

  “Right,” she said. “He comes at one of us, he comes at all of us.”

  August had said that Monday night when she told him she was being blackmailed.

  “That’s not why I’m helping you,” he said.

  “Then why are you?”

  “You don’t know?”

  “No.”

  “I’ll tell you next time I see you. Go pray. Please.”

  “I’ll pray as hard as I can.”

  Lia hung up and immediately went into her bedroom.

  Gogo sat up in his dog bed and gave her a curious worried stare. She wished she could reassure him but couldn’t. Visions of headlines ran through her head. All the horrible jokes. The puns. The salacious details of a peer’s daughter who started an illegal escort agency at age eighteen. Clients would be outed. People would lose marriages, jobs. Her friends would be mortified, humiliated, tossed out of their homes. She didn’t even want to think about how her brothers would fare, away at school. Daddy would never be able to look her in the eyes again. Her mother would want to know why this was happening, and Lia wouldn’t be able to tell her. Lia would have to stand there in silence and let her world crumble around her while David watched and laughed and patted himself on the back.

  Nausea overwhelmed her. She wanted to throw up. She needed to throw up. But she wouldn’t. She’d promised August, for some insane reason, that she would say a prayer to Aphrodite. And if she was doing it for August, she would do it right.

  Lia gathered the candles. She knew she ought to offer something. Tradition and all that. She found the note from David that still had the lock of hair she’d cut and given him after he’d taken her virginity. According to myth, Artemis and Aphrodite were sisters and rivals. Maybe Aphrodite would appreciate having an offering that belonged to Artemis offered to her instead.

  “This is mad,” Lia said to herself as she lit the candles and arrayed them around the statue of Aphrodite. Surely this was just busywork August had given her, something to do to calm her down, to make her feel better or to shut her up for a few minutes so he could figure out how to help her. Even so, she picked up the lock of hair, and as she dipped it in the flame, she prayed her heart out.

  “Aphrodite, goddess of love,” Lia began, “please help me.” After that Lia wasn’t sure what else to say. “David used my love for him against me. A man who likes hurting women shouldn’t be allowed to win, right? Um... I’ll shut up now. I don’t know what I’m doing or why I’m doing it, anyway. That’s not true. I know exactly why I’m doing this. Because August asked me to. And I’m in love with him. So, please bless August, too, and keep him safe and happy... Amen.”

  Lia let the curl of gingerbread-colored hair burn to nothing.

  And that was that.

  But that wasn’t that. That wasn’t that at all.

  A wind kicked up.

  A gust of wind that rattled Lia’s ancient windows, rattled and beat against them, beat against them until they finally blew open.

  The wind rushed into the room and doused all four candles at once. The photos fell off the mantel. Her phone blew off her nightstand and onto the floor. Her lamp tipped over. Books blew open. Even Gogo looked windblown. He barked, but it wasn’t a scared sound. He barked the way he did when he’d treed a squirrel. A bark of joy. Lia ran to the windows to try to force them to shut and latch, but the wind was too strong, so strong it blew the petals off the roses from the bouquet August had given her. The pink petals swirled around her dark bedroom.

  Then it just...stopped.

  Just like that.

  Over.

  The wind died, and Lia was able to get the windows closed.

&
nbsp; She set her lamp upright and checked to make sure the candles had really gone out before they burned the whole place down.

  When she had everything set to rights, she finally sat down in her grandmother’s armchair. Gogo put his head in her lap and whimpered.

  “Yeah, I don’t know what the hell that was, either, boy.” Whatever it was, it was terrifying, and Lia could do nothing but hold Gogo and pet him and comfort herself by comforting him.

  About an hour later, her phone rang.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  The call was from August. Lia answered immediately.

  “August?”

  “Can you come over right now? I have good news for you.”

  “Good news?”

  “Very good news. You won’t have to worry about David anymore.”

  Lia was so stunned she couldn’t speak at first.

  “What are you saying, August?”

  “I’m saying your prayer worked.”

  He rang off, and in record time she was on the road to London.

  Did she dare to hope August was right? What had he meant when he said it had been taken care of?

  For the first time since getting her license, Lia wished she’d let her father buy her that Jag or an Audi or anything that went faster than a 1980 Metro. But finally, she turned onto August’s street. She ran to the front and didn’t bother to knock. August was expecting her, after all. She went in, calling out his name as she did.

  “In the living room,” August said.

  Lia ran down the entry hall and burst into the living room—where she came to a quick stop when she saw August had company.

  A woman stood by the fireplace, facing the mantel, her back to Lia. She was tall and elegant with enviable curves and thick black hair worn in a loose knot with tendrils galore trailing over her shoulder. She was dressed in a skirt suit of spring pink. A wrap of faux ermine was draped over one shoulder and one arm. Venus in furs...that was Lia’s first thought as she looked at the woman, and she couldn’t remember where that phrase came from—was it a book or was it a song?

  August also wore a suit—three-piece gray with the jacket off and his sleeves rolled up. A suit? And the woman dressed so fashionably, as well? Lia wondered what the occasion was.

  “So sorry,” she said. “The door was open. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  “You didn’t,” August said.

  She waited in the doorway, afraid to go into the living room, afraid to leave. She kept waiting for the woman to turn around and greet her, but she didn’t. Lia could only catch the smallest glimpse of her face, but she was a great beauty, that was obvious.

  The woman said something then in a low sultry voice and August replied to her. They were speaking Greek, which Lia recognized but didn’t understand. A great beauty. Greek. And powerful enough to make August nervous.

  “You’re August’s mother,” Lia said. “How do you do?”

  The woman didn’t answer. Perhaps she didn’t speak English. Lia looked at August for help. He smiled, but it wasn’t a happy sort of smile.

  “Lia,” he said. “I had a talk with my mother. She’s agreed to take care of your situation with David.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It’s for the best if you don’t know. Nothing illegal, though, I promise. But my mother has connections. She’ll pay Mr. Bell a visit in the morning. You’re not going to get arrested. You won’t be in the papers. By tomorrow evening, it’ll all be over. You can relax.”

  Lia wasn’t relaxed, not at all.

  “But how?”

  “How will they do it?” August asked. “Like I said, nothing illegal. That’s all you need to know.”

  “No.” She lowered her voice. “How did you talk your family into helping me?”

  August had been persona non grata in his family ever since he’d refused the marriage his mother had arranged. There was no way they’d do anything for him, not like this...not helping one of his patrons. They’d been so furious at him he’d had to change his name. How had he talked them into helping her?

  Then Lia knew.

  She knew exactly what August had done.

  “You’re getting married,” Lia said to him.

  He raised his hands in surrender, faked a smile. “I suppose I am.”

  “No, no.” She shook her head. “You can’t...not for me. You can’t mean it. He doesn’t mean it.” Lia said that to his silent mother, who still had not turned to face her. “August...” Lia breathed. “No.”

  “Can you go and wait for me upstairs? We can talk in a few minutes. We can, can’t we?” He asked that of his mother.

  The woman nodded tersely, held up one finger. One finger meant one minute. That’s all the time she would allow Lia and August to be alone together. One minute to say goodbye.

  Lia wanted to kill the woman. She wanted to strangle her where she stood with her own ermine wrap.

  This woman who was going to save Lia...

  “It’s not worth it,” she said to August. “I’m not—”

  “You are,” August said softly. And then louder as if he wanted to make sure his mother heard and understood. “You are.”

  Her lips quivered, tears burned her eyes. She couldn’t speak, could only shake her head as if to deny it all.

  “Please, Lia,” he whispered. “Please go up and wait for me.”

  How could she say no to him? How could she not do anything he asked of her after he’d done this terrible, beautiful thing for her?

  She went upstairs to his office/bedroom. She stood by the bed and did not move. For a long time, she simply stared at the sheets they’d made love on, the pillows they’d slept on, the Rose Kylix they’d drunk from...

  “I will never see him again.”

  She knew that for a fact. August would come up the stairs and enter the room and they would sit in the same chairs they’d sat in on the day they’d made their deal, and he would say he was sorry for hurting her. She would thank him for helping her and he would thank her for understanding. Then she would leave and go home and go to bed and she would wake up tomorrow and the first thought in her mind would be, I will never see him again.

  If she were a little stronger, a little less well-bred, she’d have beat on his chest and screamed in his face and told him he was an idiot, a fool—that she would rather have spent the rest of her life in hiding or in jail than to let him do this for her. Hadn’t he said he would rather die than give up his freedom?

  It was all her fault. She’d told him too much. She’d told him how much David had hurt her and how scared she was for her friends and her brothers and her parents. Did he feel responsible for her now?

  Lia heaved a quiet sob. Her guilt consumed her. She would give anything—her heart, her soul, her life—to go back in time, back to Pan’s Island, back with August, and never leave.

  Without thinking, Lia walked to August’s bedside table and pulled the cork from the wine bottle. She poured not a sip, not a swallow, but a full glass of Syrah into the Rose Kylix, lifted it and drank.

  Why? Because she couldn’t bear the moment anymore. She couldn’t bear her guilt and her love for August. She had to go away, disappear, be someone else, anyone else. She had to go back to Pan’s Island one more time. Being there last night had healed her heart. Maybe it could work its magic on her again.

  She didn’t take her clothes off or lie on the bed. She sat instead in the armchair in front of August’s stupid fish tank fireplace and watched the blue flames dance behind the glass. Those flames really did look like water, like ocean waves dancing to the tune of an evening storm. Lia stared at those waves, those waves, those endless dancing waves. She could hear them now, the waves rising and crashing, lapping at the stony shores of an ancient kingdom. She could see the blue waves and hear them rise and crash and now...now she could smell
them, salt and copper.

  Lightning struck Lia.

  She gasped and opened her eyes.

  This was not Pan’s Island.

  That was Lia’s first thought when she awoke. But where was it? It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dark. Such deep dark that she knew she was in the past, in a world lit only by the moon, stars and torch fires. Luckily it was a bright night and a full moon, and soon Lia could make out her surroundings.

  She was in a bedroom lying on a soft feather bed with a gauzy mosquito netting hanging overhead like a canopy. The walls were pale stone, the ceilings high and outside the large low window she saw the ocean.

  Lia heard a voice. A male voice, soft and incoherent. She looked over, next to her, and saw a man sleeping. She wasn’t afraid of the sleeping man, although he was naked in the bed. So was she. Somehow, she knew he belonged there more than she did. He wasn’t unhandsome, simply older than she’d wanted in a husband.

  Husband? Yes...that’s who he was. Her husband. Brown hair with enough silver in it that she saw it shimmer in the moonlight. A close-cropped beard. A broad back and shoulders, strong arms, the rough hands of a man who held the reins of a team of horses every day, and the reins of a kingdom.

  Lia pressed her hands between her legs and touched herself. She felt fresh semen dripping out of her body onto the linen sheets.

  What was she doing here?

  And who was she?

  It seemed she should know but she couldn’t...it was on the tip of her tongue, but without August here as a guide, she was lost.

  She would simply close her eyes and wait for morning. She thought if she fell asleep, when she woke up she would be back where she belonged, wherever that was. Where was that again? She couldn’t remember. Didn’t matter. Wherever she’d come from, she must not have liked it much if she’d left it. She settled back into the bed, next to her sleeping husband, and closed her eyes.

 

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