by Ivy Fox
Nannies stealing away a frail and tormented ten-year-old girl’s wet bedsheets to sell to TMZ for a quick buck. Not even caring it was a result of our baby sister screaming bloody murder from the night terrors she developed after she saw her mother’s corpse lying frozen still in a coffin.
Presumed family friends, claiming their fifteen minutes of fame on daytime TV shows, spilling their guts out about how our mother was a pill-popping socialite and probably should be the one to blame for the hit and run instead of the man driving the car.
Yeah, there were a lot of eye-opening moments for all of us.
No one gives a shit about you if a fat check or notoriety is on the horizon. All anyone ever sees in us is a quick payday, and now that the honorable Judge Grayson is at death’s doors, everyone will be sniffing around us, trying to see if they can get paid and grab some of the limelight.
Shame washes over me when I think how gullible I was to believe Snow could ever be one of those types of people. I want to say it wasn’t my fault, or Ash’s, for jumping to the most obvious conclusion when we found out she had been lying to us. Rome connecting the dots the way he did was simply unavoidable, considering the way we grew up.
We had been wired and conditioned to think this way. Everyone is a liar. Everyone is out to get something from you. Trust no one, and you won’t be disappointed. I mean, isn’t that why we never made a big effort to tell her who our parents were, either? The less she knew about our life back in New York, the more certain we were of her genuine feelings.
So when her bitch of a mother married our father out of the blue, it all felt like one huge, fucking betrayal. A con we never saw coming. We let our guard down for angelic, gray eyes, and they stabbed us in the back.
At least that’s what we lead ourselves to believe.
But deep down, my shame and guilt strangle me without leniency, punishing me for my logic kicking in too late. It couldn’t prevent the damage we caused to the only girl who had nothing but love in her heart. I should have known better. Ash is too much of a hothead to think things through when all he sees is red, while Rome is quick to keep people at arm’s length just because he’s been burnt before in the cruelest of ways.
But me? What’s my excuse?
There isn’t any. My gut told me something was wrong, yet I was too much of a coward to go to the source and talk to her. I was too afraid she would say something that would prove Rome’s hypothesis right, and my broken heart wouldn’t be able to heal itself if I witnessed such blatant treachery firsthand. But as they say, hindsight is twenty-twenty, and the most useless tool of all. Because we believed a lie of our own creation, Snow was left alone, unprotected, and at the mercy of our father.
It sickens me.
I sicken me.
I promised I would one day show Snow the world, but all I did was lead her to the path of her own personal hell. She will never be the same innocent girl who smiled at strangers with a pure heart and uttered kind words to everyone around her.
Now she’ll be just as jaded and broken as we all are.
I’ll never deserve her forgiveness. Not when my own took so long to give, and it was never warranted in the first place.
I take out my phone and see that it’s close to midnight and, unsurprisingly, there are no texts or unanswered calls from Snow. Sluggishly I walk up the stairs, thinking a shower and a few hours of sleep might give me the endurance to keep up pretenses for another day. But as I head to my room, a small whimper catches my attention, halting my next step. I press my ear to Snow’s bedroom door to check if the muffled cries are coming from inside, or if my tired brain is playing a cruel game on me. It takes me but a second to realize it’s not.
“Snow?” I whisper through the door, my heart already contracting inside my chest. “Can I come in?”
The pregnant pause between my question and the sound of the door finally unlocking is barely tolerable. The first thing I see is that her room is covered in darkness, but the hall light can’t hide those beautiful gray eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
“What do you want, Ollie?” she hushes, her voice frail and brittle.
“I wanted to see if you were okay,” I reply, even though the question is no longer needed.
Snow looks like she’s gone to war and lost. Her hair is in disarray, probably from twisting and turning on the bed, her skin is far too pale, and the dark circles under her eyes tell me she hasn’t known sleep for days.
“I’m fine, Ollie.”
“You don’t look fine.”
“What do you want me to say?” she snaps back angrily, tilting her head up to face me, no longer hiding away her pain. “Huh, Ollie? What? That I’m not? That I don’t think I ever will be? Is that what you want to hear? No, it isn’t. So don’t ask me questions that you don’t want real answers for,” she adds bitterly, her sunken, red eyes looking at me like I’m the cause of all of her sadness.
And fuck… maybe I am.
“Can I come in?” I ask, instead of responding to her small rant.
“It’s your house.” She shrugs, turning her back to me and not putting up much of a fight.
This isn’t Snow. Holland West is a warrior. A fucking Amazonian princess. No, damn it, an almighty queen! She’s never been one to wave the white flag so unceremoniously. This is his doing. He fucking took her crown and broke every jeweled piece, until all that was left was gold dust and crushed diamond.
Snow takes another step away from me, and it kills me to see how she wants to maintain a safe distance between us. I can’t have that. I pull at her elbow, getting her to turn around, and before she’s able to say a reprimanding word, I hug her. I hold her close to me, so she knows she doesn’t have to be strong. But she isn’t weak, either. Not as long as she remembers just what type of woman she is and that I’ll always be in her corner.
Her body is stiff and arctic, like a glorious statue made of solid marble—beautiful, hard stone underneath, and cold to the touch on the polished surface. I run my fingers through her long, white-blonde hair and whisper reassurances in her ear until I feel her body begin to shudder and melt against mine. I remind her how she never has to run away from me; that as long as she is in my arms, she’s safe and cared for. She’ll be loved, always loved.
“I’m here, Snow. I’m here. Don’t turn me away,” I croak, feeling my own emotions taking control of me.
I need to hold my shit together, but as she falls apart in my embrace, I begin to shatter just as violently. I walk her to her bed, and we both lie down, never once unlocking my arms around her. They, like me, have missed her too fucking much. I let her fracture, piece by jagged piece, while I kiss the top of her hair, always keeping her body close to mine. If I were a gambling man, I’d bet she hadn’t let herself crack open like this since that night, too afraid that if she let go, even once, she wouldn’t be able to put herself back together again. But I would never allow that to happen. I’ll always be at her side, reminding her that she can break, but she’ll never be broken.
After what feels like an eternity of pain-soaked tears, she finally stops, and her hiccupped breathing begins to settle down. She let herself have this small moment of vulnerability, but I fear there is so much more inside of her screaming to come out.
“You asleep?” I ask quietly, continuing to stroke my fingers through her hair.
“No.”
“Do you need to talk about it?” I venture carefully, wondering if it’s best to have her just explode once and for all, letting out everything she’s keeping bottled up inside.
“No.”
I nod, conceding for now. But sooner or later she’ll have to face what happened and talk with someone. If not with me, then with a specialist that deals with assault victims. Either way, she’ll need help, and I’ll make sure I move heaven and earth to get the best for her.
“How was your first day of school?” I ask, hoping it’s a safer topic of conversation.
I ju
st want to hear my Snow’s voice again. I want her to talk just a little more until her voice resembles the one I have kept inside my heart since I was sixteen years old. Even clipped words will do at this point. I’ll cherish every last one.
“Hell,” she mumbles with a bitter laugh.
“That good, huh?” I joke.
“Let’s just say I got a welcoming I won’t soon forget.”
“What do you mean?” I ask worriedly, softly pulling her chin up, so I can look into her cloudy eyes. I know Pembroke High is full of dicks, pricks, and assholes, but how much crap could anyone have given her on her first day?
“Addison, or someone else that shares her flair for the dramatics, made a video of me from Lace and Trevor’s party. It won’t get nominated for an Oscar, but it accomplished enough.”
“I see.” I seethe, fuming that Addison Hurst couldn’t give Snow even one fucking day before tormenting her.
With all the shit that’s going on, I totally forgot about Rome’s ex and how she loves to piss on her territory when she feels threatened. And by the way she bared her teeth at Snow during the party last Saturday, I should have calculated it wouldn’t take her long until she went in for a big fucking bite.
“Addison is a bitch. Everyone knows it. The only reason she gets away with murder is that people are afraid of her. Trust me, she has more enemies than friends at Pembroke.” I try to console Snow, but as her body instantly becomes rigid, I almost bite my tongue for my poor word choice. “I’ll fix whatever Addison did. Soon, no one will remember it,” I add, hoping it’s enough for her to forget my little lapse of vocabulary.
“Not everything can be swept under a rug, Ollie. Sometimes actions deserve consequences,” she counters melancholically.
“You’re right.”
“How are you dealing with it? How is Ash?” she questions, looking deep into my eyes to read my true feelings regarding the clusterfuck we’re all in. Of course Snow would be worried about us when the real victim here is her.
“We’re both fine. Just worried about you.” I reply, placing a tender kiss on her temple.
“Ash can’t stand the sight of me anymore.” Her tone is wounded and heartrending. Before she has time to lower her eyes from mine, I cup her face, shooing those thoughts away from her head.
“That’s not true. Don’t ever think that.”
She shrugs, unconvinced, and turns away from me, stabbing my already knifed-up heart even more.
“Do you want me to leave?” I susurrate, praying that the only space she’s adamant in keeping between us is this wedge separating us on this bed, and nothing else.
“No. Can you stay? Please. Just long enough for me to fall asleep?”
I nod in relief, even though she can’t see it with her back now turned. I lie on my side just looking at her and listening to our troubled heartbeats become in sync with each other. Even though she’s so close to me, I feel like she’s a million miles away. Once her breathing becomes even and I’m certain she’s asleep, I slide in closer. Not too close that she’ll wake up, but close enough that I can smell her ginger-like fragrance tease my nose, reminding me of the times I held her in my arms, and she didn’t push me away.
But I guess I did the pushing first. Now it will take more than cuddling or sweet words to get her trust back. That’s the thing. I thought she had given me enough reasons to lose my trust in her, when in reality, what I did was make her lose trust in me. And now, when she is at her most vulnerable, she won’t offer it to me so easily. Maybe never again. I’ll just have to try. She needs a friend in her corner. She needs to know that she is loved. Protected. And I want to be that person for her. I want her to feel like she can depend on me, that I’ll be her anchor to keep her steady. Snow has always been my true north. I just have to remind her that I can be hers, too.
Without expecting it, since my mind is a minefield of tortured thoughts, I doze off after a while. Knowing Snow is safely sleeping beside me must have tempered my chaotic mind long enough for sleep to take over. I only wake up when my phone starts ringing in my jean pocket. I quickly decline the call, not wanting anything to startle Snow’s slumber, but within seconds I receive a text from Rome, ordering me back to the hospital. I let out a gruff sigh, knowing I’ll have to place my mask back on and continue the charade of the concerned son.
But instead of hopping off the bed, I stay just for a few more minutes to take in the love of my life. She didn’t move much during the night and kept to her side of the bed. However, she did turn to face me, placing her delicate hand on the pillow just a hair’s breadth away from my lips.
With all the love I have inside, I press one gentle kiss to her palm, hoping it will travel into her dreams, and whisper how she’s the owner of my heart, even if she can’t keep it.
Her being my step-sister, and my father destroying her innocence, I’m not naive in thinking she’ll have me back, or even want me for that matter. But I’ll take whatever crumbs she throws my way, just so I can be a part of her life again.
Snow owns me.
It’s that simple.
I just wish our lives were as easy to figure out.
“Where were you?” Ash slurs, sprawled out on his seat, his long legs crossed at the ankles, completely disregarding the fact that he’s blocking the way of an orderly trying to wheel a patient through. I knock his feet with my Jordans, gaining a malicious smirk from my twin, but he straightens enough for the hospital assistant, dressed all in white, to pass.
Still looking like he’s spending his day at a beach instead of this dreary place, Ash laces his fingers together behind his head, slouching back to his original form.
“I went home for a few hours of sleep. Did you stay here all night?” I ask as I take the empty seat next to him, looking side to side to see if Rome or Elle are close by.
The only one I see is my little sister, leaning against the door of my father’s room, while Vivienne talks her ear off. By the restrained look on her face, she’s two seconds away from exploding into the woman’s face. As much as I would like to watch her degrade Vivienne West up close—actually, Vivienne Grayson now—it’s too early in the morning to deal with that viper.
“No. Rome sent me home last night, too, but I passed by your room, and you weren’t there.”
I take my eyes off of Elle and redirect my stare to Ash, not liking his acrid tone one bit.
“So? Where were you?” he interrogates again.
“With Snow,” I deadpan, unimpressed with his hostile demeanor.
“Snow?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?” He has the nerve to ask.
“Why? Because she needs me. Better yet, she needs us. What’s your fucking problem?” I retort, aggravated by his callousness, which only increases my pissed-off mood when he unapologetically laughs in my face.
“She doesn’t need us, Ollie. She needs to stay the fuck away from us,” he counters bitterly.
I shake my head, demoralized that he’s thinking this way and wants me to share in his opinion. That’s not happening.
“I told you already. I’m not going to stay away from Snow. I need her in my life.”
“But she doesn’t need you!” He screams out, jumping to his feet while all up in my face.
I stand up, grabbing the asshole by the arm, and leading him to the nearest fire exit so we can hash this shit out without making a spectacle of ourselves. I push him against the wall, once I’ve made sure no one can eavesdrop on our little blowout.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!”
“Wrong with me?! Wrong with me?! Open your fucking eyes, Ollie! Everything is fucked up, and you’re acting like you can still play house!” he shouts, pushing me off him.
I take a long breath and count to ten before I do something stupid, like slam my fist into my twin’s face.
“That’s not what I’m doing,” I tell him assertively, once I have my temper in check.
&nb
sp; “No?” He laughs mockingly, crossing his arms over his chest, probably to restrain the temptation of swinging his left hook on me. “Then what are you doing? Playing the part of white knight, are you? Cause let me tell you, brother, you’re too fucking late to play the hero.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose and count to twenty this time. Ash is getting on my last nerve, which makes sense since we’re all on the verge of a meltdown.
“I’m being her friend,” I explain calmly, but Ash wants none of it. He grabs the lapel of my jacket, bringing me closer to him. He lays his temple on mine, his sneer even more menacing in such close proximity.
“You’re being a fool,” he spits out, and the smell of hard liquor is too strong for me not to notice. I shake my head, stepping out of his grip, disappointed by the way he is coping with his heartache.
“You’re drunk. I can smell it on you. For Christ sake, it’s not even eight yet.”
He leans back onto the wall and just gives me a who-gives-a-fuck shrug.
“It’s happy hour somewhere, right?” he replies smugly.
“I can’t talk to you when you’re like this,” I chastise, turning my back from my inebriated twin. But he doesn’t let me go far and spins me around by the shoulder to face him again.
“No. You can’t face the truth when I’m yelling it at you!”
“And what truth is that?” I yell back, throwing my arms in the air.
He takes two steps back, leaning on the wall once again. I’m not sure if it’s to prevent him falling on his ass, or because he needs something—anything—to keep him grounded.
“Snow is gone, Ollie. Our family broke her,” he hushes, his head bowed.
I let out a long sigh. This is so fucking messed up. With one move, my father was successful in ruining us all. Ash has always looked tougher than he is. While I make my suffering known, he camouflages his with being an irresponsible dick. But that doesn’t mean his pain is any less than mine. And Snow’s suffering is at the root of all our grief.
“No, Ash. Snow’s strong. She can live through this.” I try to reassure him, placing my hand on his shoulder and giving it a small, comforting squeeze. He lifts up his head, his muddled, hazel eyes a river mixed of disdain and despair.
