33. Izabella
IZABELLA
My eyes are gritty when I wake up with Gulliver’s dark head between my legs, his tongue lapping at my poor, overused clit. “No,” I whine, grabbing a handful of his hair and pulling him away. “I can’t take any more. You broke my vagina, and I need at least a couple of days to recover.”
“So, let me kiss it all better,” he pouts, looking up at me with his chin resting on my mound.
“Leave me alone, you nympho.” I giggle, playfully pushing at his forehead.
“Just one more time, then I’ll give you a break,” he coaxes, stroking his hand along my thigh as his tongue laps at me again.
“No, I came six times last night. I’m done. Your tongue feels like sandpaper, and you wore my clit out. Go away.”
Sighing, he crawls up the bed and flops to his back dramatically, his erect cock swinging in the air. “What am I going to do about this if you won’t let me fuck you?” he asks, waving his hand in the direction of his dick.
“Won’t it just go away if you start thinking about something that’s not sexy?” I giggle again.
“Or I could put it in your ass?” he asks hopefully.
“No,” I cry, shuffling away from him.
“I was kidding.”
“No, you weren’t.”
“No, I wasn’t.” He laughs. “But we’ll need to build up to that.”
“No. No, we won’t, because that’s not happening,” I shriek, as if saying it with more volume makes it extra true.
“You could give me a blow job, or let me fuck your tits.”
“Or you could go away and leave me alone. We have school tomorrow, I need to turn on my cell, sleep some more, then take an extra-long bath to get the smell of sex off me.”
It’s been exactly seven days since I ran from my parents’ house, seven days in which my entire life has changed, but it’s time to get back to reality. Tomorrow, we have school, and it’ll be the first time that I’ll see Penelope since she helped me up to my room and told me to run.
She’s my sister, my identical twin, but apart from that one act of kindness, she’s been awful to me for years. She’s behaved as if I was nothing more than a convenient employee, and that one moment of care doesn’t counteract all of the times she’s belittled or disregarded me.
Gulliver’s playful demeanor changes, and he rolls to face me, pulling the covers over our naked bodies. “Do you think your parents will have tried to contact you?”
I shake my head. “I doubt it. They won’t get back in touch until they need me.”
“Where’s your cell?” he asks.
I point to the FedEx box sitting on the dresser, and he rolls his eyes, climbing out of bed and grabbing it before settling himself back next to me. “Seriously, you didn’t even bother to set it up?” he says, pulling the iPhone out and quickly turning it on, tapping the screen several times before he glances at me.
“Do you want me to import your contacts from your old SIM?”
I shrug. “If you want, but there were only four numbers in there and three of them I never plan to contact again.”
“You only had four numbers in your cell?” he asks, pity lacing his words.
“Don’t feel bad for me,” I snap.
“I really fucking hate your family for what they did to you,” he snarls, dragging me close when I try to pull away. “I want to do more than make them lose that money. I want to ruin them.”
Scoffing lightly, I smile up at his handsome face. “We’re rich, they’ll always have money to fall back on. But they want the power that will come with Penelope’s inheritance. If I get to be the reason they don’t get that, it’ll be all the revenge I need.”
Making a sound of disagreement, he turns his attention back to the small device in his hands. “There you go, welcome to the twenty-first century,” he says, handing me the fancy cell phone.
The moment my fingers wrap around it, it beeps and I startle, looking at the cell, then at Gulliver.
“It’s a text,” he says, slowly, like he’s not sure if I understand.
Swiping the screen, I tap into the message app.
“I thought that old Nokia was your only cell phone?”
“It was…why?”
“Then how do you know how to use an iPhone?”
Rolling my eyes, I chuckle. “I chose not to have a fancy cell phone. That doesn’t mean I’m technologically inept. I’ve had a smartphone before, I just enjoyed the simplicity of my old cell. It made me harder to contact.”
His expression shutters and he closes his eyes for a second, shaking his head while he mutters something too quietly for me to hear.
While he’s distracted, I take a moment to appreciate how beautiful he really is. Classically handsome with a square jaw and dark features, he’s gorgeous, rich, and popular. I’m not entirely sure how we went from blackmail to naked sleepovers, but despite how much I’m enjoying being with him, a part of me feels like I should be keeping him at arm’s length, because despite everything he’s said and done for me, a niggling voice at the back of my head still doesn’t really trust him.
The first time I met Gulliver, he didn’t hide the fact that he hates my sister and family. He was so willing to use me, he orchestrated an elaborate fake engagement plot to avoid being tied to my sister and used as a pawn in a political marriage. So why now is he telling me he’s not pretending anymore? Why is he treating me like I’m actually his fiancée?
I know that part of his willingness to play along is because he feels responsible for my parents’ attack on me. But he could have helped me without us getting attached.
Everything he says about wanting me and exploring the connection between us feels real, but no matter what else we mean to each other, I’m still his “get out of jail free” card. If he’s engaged to me, he can’t be forced into marrying my sister, and until that becomes a nonissue, how can I ever really believe his motives?
Yesterday, he assured me that he and the guys weren’t pretending to be friends with me. More than once, they’ve told me I’m one of them, but I don’t know if I can trust that either. I’ve never had friends. Apart from the affection I feel for my driver, Mark, I don’t think I’ve ever really cared for anyone outside of the toxic relationships I have with my family. But somehow Gulliver and the guys have managed to sneak past my defenses, even though the four of them are really the last people I want to care about.
If my plan works and, by forcing my sister to actually live her own life, she fails to meet one of the will’s stipulations, Gulliver won’t need me anymore, and I won’t need him either. We’ll have no reason to use each other, and then the only ties that will be left are the honest and real ones. Until that day comes, I refuse to fully let my barriers down.
“Are you going to read that text, or do you plan on staring at me a little longer?” he asks with a teasing smile.
“It’s from my mom. I should ignore it. Whatever it says, it won’t be the word sorry. It won’t be her begging me to come home because she misses me.”
“You can delete it and block all of their numbers if that’s what you want to do, but it might be worth knowing how they’re going to play this before we get to school tomorrow. I can read it if you want? If it’s hateful, I’ll just delete it, and you never have to see it,” Gulliver offers, sitting up and pulling me into his lap.
Inhaling slowly, I open the text.
Mom – You’re a Rhodes, and that means you have an obligation to play your part in this family. This childish tantrum is over, and we expect things to be as normal on Monday morning.
A bark of bitter laughter falls from my lips as I read. Not a single word of apology, nothing acknowledging that both she and my dad attacked me, just a reminder that, as a Rhodes, I have a role to play.
Dropping my cell to the comforter, I climb out of Gulliver’s lap and pad naked to the bathroom. I should probably feel self-conscious, but I don’t. Gulliver’s seen, touched, and licked my naked body, so it seems pointless to act shy now. Turning on the shower, I step under the spray and scream into it, letting the water wash the noise away as it rushes into the drain at my feet.
A part of me is expecting it when Gulliver turns me around and pulls me into his chest. In the week since I ran from my home, I’ve refused to cry, but now I want to sob and scream and cry and destroy everything because it’s not fair. It’s not fair that my family is horrible. It’s not fair that they attacked me. It’s not fair that they’re not better people. It’s just not fair, and I don’t want to be strong and pragmatic about it. I want to behave like a child and be sad, mad, and heartbroken about their rejection.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Izzy. We’ll make them pay, then when we’re done, we’ll toast their ruin with a bottle of champagne, and then we’ll forget they exist,” he tells me, holding me tightly to his chest as his body shelters and protects me.
“Promise?” I ask, falling back into the pretense that I’m starting to hope is actually real.
“I promise,” he says without a hint of hesitation.
By the time we get dressed and make our way downstairs, it’s late afternoon, and my stomach reminds me that I haven’t eaten since dinner last night. “When’s your dad back?” I ask Gulliver as we lounge on the couch in the den.
“His flight lands at four, so he’ll be back just after five.”
“Does he know I’m here?” I ask, wondering if I need to leave. Should I go back to the hotel, or even go and look at that house I told the guys I’d found but had completely forgotten about? It dawns on me that I’ve gotten comfortable living here with all of them like a weird Brady Bunch dysfunctional family.
“Of course he knows you’re here. I had to promise him I wasn’t going to make him a grandpa before the wedding, just so he didn’t come home early.” He laughs, dragging me closer to him.
“Your dad is worried about me getting pregnant?” I gasp, pulling out of his hold and suddenly wondering why I’m not more worried about that. Gulliver and I haven’t exactly been careful. Thankfully, I’m on the birth control shot, but he doesn’t know that because we’ve been too busy ripping each other’s clothes off to talk about it.
“To be honest, I think he’d quite like to be a young grandpa, but maybe not until after we finish college.”
I wait for him to laugh, or smirk, or something, but he looks completely serious, and I have no idea how to process that. “I’m on the birth control shot,” I say, and I swear he looks almost disappointed. “Should I go back to the hotel? It’ll be weird if I stay here once your dad gets back.”
“Don’t be stupid. Of course you’re staying here. Why would you go anywhere else? We’re engaged, for fuck’s sake,” Gulliver snarls, grabbing me by the waist and hauling me into his lap.
Slapping at his hands, I try to wiggle free, but he holds me firm, refusing to let me go.
“Give up and just sit on his lap.” Davis laughs. “He’s only going to pull you right back onto him if you manage to get away.”
“Or you could help me,” I cry, reaching my arms out toward him.
“Hell, no, I’m not dumb enough to try and get between you and him,” he says, leaning back and propping his feet up on the coffee table.
“I’ll save you,” Thorn shouts, letting out a war cry as he scoops me out of Gulliver’s lap, unceremoniously throws me over his shoulder, and runs around the room.
“Put me down,” I cry, smacking his butt and giggling as I hang upside down.
“Give her here,” Kip says, lifting me from Thorn’s hold and cradling me in his arms bridal-style.
“Thank you, Kip. I knew you were the nice one,” I say, pressing a kiss against his cheek.
“Not that nice.” He smirks, winks at me, then drops me back into Gulliver’s lap.
“God, I hate you guys,” I shriek as a laughing Gulliver wraps his arms tightly around me. Pinching my chin between his finger and thumb, he turns me so I’m looking at him, leans forward, and presses a kiss against my lips.
Allowing myself to live in the moment, I enjoy the way I can feel his smile as he kisses me, and a playful giggle bursts from my throat. I’d almost forgotten how it feels to be this free, this unburdened. But despite the reason I’m here, I’ve enjoyed the last week with them.
Being around this group of friends makes me feel conflicted. In some ways, it feels like they’ve easily accepted me as one of them. They’ve never done anything to make me feel like an outsider, even though they barely know me, and I’ve never felt any expectation to be anything other than me. They don’t care that I prefer baggy sweats over designer dresses, they don’t care that I’m snarky or that I’m not permanently Suzie Sunshine.
They seem to like me, the real me, and that makes me question if any of this is real or if they’re all playing a larger game that I don’t understand.
Gulliver must sense the change in my mind from playful to serious because he pulls his lips from mine, his expression sobering. “Stay here with me. I don’t want you at a hotel. My dad doesn’t care. In fact, I think he’s excited for the chance to get to know his future daughter-in-law better.”
“I don’t like the idea of lying to him when he’s welcoming me into his home. Maybe we should just tell him the real reason that I’m here,” I ponder aloud.
“The real reason?” Gulliver questions.
“Yes, we should tell him the truth—that none of this is real, that it all started out as a joke, and that now it’s changed into revenge,” I say, glancing from the guys, then back to Gulliver.
“Izzy,” Gulliver says slowly.
“I’m so sick of all the lies, Gulliver. I know why we’re doing it. I asked you guys to help me. But I don’t think I can lie to his face and pretend all of this is real,” I say, looking at them each in turn, searching but failing to see their agreement.
“Izzy,” Gulliver says again.
“It’s one thing doing the interview and telling the kids at school that we’re really getting married, but this is your dad. It’s wrong to deceive him like this.”
“Izzy,” he sighs. “We can’t tell my dad anything.”
I shake my head, but he cups my cheek, silencing me. “What we’re doing now, it’s more than just a prank. If we tell him the truth, we have to tell him the whole truth. We’ll have to explain how all of this started, then we’ll have to tell him about the attack and what you plan to do with your sister. Once he knows everything, he might want to cheer us on, or he might try to force us to stop, and honestly, I’m not prepared to take that risk. I refuse to let you go back to hiding and pretending to be your sister, so we have to stick with the plan,” Gulliver says, his voice strong and filled with determination.
“He’s right,” Thorn agrees, surprising me. “Your parents are psychos, they’ve already shown you how unhinged they are. Can you imagine what they’d do if they found out you’re plotting to see your sister fail?”
My eyes dart up to the other guys, and I find them all nodding. “You’re not their ghost anymore, Izabella. If you don’t do this, then what makes you think your parents will let you stop pretending to be your sister after high school? They’ll force you to do this all through college too. Hell, they’ll never let you get away,” Gulliver says.
Shaking my head, I try to deny his words, but inside I know what he’s saying is true. I’ve clung to the idea that after high school they’d let me leave, but I was kidding myself. Gulliver’s right, they’ll never let me go, and I can’t let them steal the rest of my life from me.
“Penelope said she overheard them talking about forcing me to…” I falter, struggling to say the words out loud. “She said she heard them talking about making me have sex with the guys on the husband list while pretending to be her.”
Gulliver goes rigid beneath me. “She what?” he growls.
“She told me when she helped me to my room. It was part of the reason she told me to run.”
Lifting me off his lap, Gulliver drops me on the sofa beside him, then jumps to his feet and storms toward the door. All three guys jump up and race after him while I stare on in confusion.
“I’m going to fucking kill them,” Gulliver snarls.
“She’s fine, she’s here. You need to think about this,” Thorn says, his arms wrapped tightly around Gulliver from behind, restraining him while Kip and Davis block the door.
“Those fucking motherfuckers!” Gulliver angrily shouts, pulling at Thorn’s hold on him.
“I know. But you need to take care of your girl. She needs you more than you need to beat the shit out of her parents. You can’t protect her if you’re in jail,” Thorn coaxes while I silently watch, unsure what to say or do.
When Gulliver relaxes, the thick, tension-filled air in the room starts to dissipate. I can hear the guys murmuring, but their voices are too low for me to be able to hear what they’re saying.
Eventually, Thorn unfurls himself from around Gulliver, and all four move back to the couch. The moment he sits down, Gulliver drags me into his lap, and I don’t fight him, sensing that he needs me to be his lifeline right now, the way he’s been for me the last couple of days.
“Before your dad gets back, we need to go over the game plan for tomorrow,” Davis says, sounding more assertive than I’ve ever heard him before.
“I had my dad speak to Principal Smith and arrange for Izzy to be transferred into all the classes that one of us share with Penelope, and then into my classes for the couple of electives that Izzy takes that Penelope doesn’t,” Gulliver tells us, his voice low and gravelly.
“We go to school and come home as a group. We can either use my limo or drive together in one of our cars,” Thorn says. “But we stick together and make sure that Izzy is never on her own, just in case Penelope or your parents try anything at school.”
“I don’t need bodyguards,” I protest.
“After what you just told us, I’m considering hiring professional help to make sure none of your family get within a ten-mile radius of you. You’re with one of us at all times. I’m fucking serious, don’t test me on this one, Ghost,” Gulliver hisses, his voice full of steely determination.
“The NYT article drops today, so I think it’s fair to say that by lunchtime, anyone who’s anyone will have heard about your engagement. But on the off chance that anyone misses it, we have a mixture of parties and events every night that will keep you guys on everyone’s radar until your engagement party in three weeks’ time,” Kip reports, like he’s a soldier briefing us on a mission.
“Engagement party?” I squeak.
“Yep, the biggest, most lavish event to celebrate us.” I feel the rumble of his laughter a moment before the sound fills the air, and some of his tension starts to melt from him as he buries his face into my neck and nips at my throat.
“Thank you,” I say, twisting around to look at Gulliver first, then each of the guys in turn. “This could all be for nothing. My parents could just pay the school enough money to buy Penelope the grades she needs, but no matter what happens, thank you for helping me. Meeting you guys and being here has been both the worst and best thing to happen to me in a long while,” I confess with a watery smile.
“This isn’t the end, Izzy. Tomorrow is just the beginning, because if your parents could have been buying your sister easy A’s, then why have they been forcing you to take her tests for her?” Kip questions.
Furrowing my brow, I wonder if he’s right. Have they already tried to bribe the teachers to give my sister her 4.0?
Brushing the hair off my shoulder, Gulliver presses his lips to my skin and exhales. “Even if your sister manages to keep her perfect GPA, it’s not the end. We’ll find another way to make her fail. And if all we do by graduation is piss off your family, then it’s still a win. They don’t have you anymore, Ghost. They lost their secret weapon, and they lost me, their first pick in the husband draft. You’re the one with my ring on your finger, and if nothing else, then you can sit back smug in the knowledge that you managed to get what they couldn’t,” Gulliver says, his gaze blazing with an emotion that I’m not sure I fully understand. There’s a hint of the calculated anger he showed me when he blackmailed me into playing along with his games, but I can also see the heated intensity he gives me when he’s thinking about fucking me.
“Do you know what the other stipulations are in the will?” Davis asks, bringing me back to the present.
“I’ve never seen the actual list, but I overheard my parents and sister talking about them, so I think I know most of it. Penelope has to lead what my great-grandfather deemed as a successful and productive life. If she or I had been a boy, I’m sure the rules would be completely different,” I snark. “But as it stands, Penelope has to graduate from GAA with her 4.0; she has to be accepted to and graduate from an Ivy League school while still maintaining a perfect GPA. Then she has to marry one of the sons from the list of old money families he provided, obviously remain a virgin until she marries, and I think she has to produce an heir too.”
“Jesus, your great-grandfather was a control freak,” Thorn hisses, shaking his head, the disgust clear on his face.
Scoffing, I nod in agreement. “The worst thing is that my sister has to jump through all these hoops to get this money, and then she isn’t even allowed to run the companies she inherits. He expects her to be smart and well educated, then he wants her to relinquish control to her husband and become a very rich trophy wife.”
Gulliver’s fingers rub soothing circles across the back of my neck, one hand still wrapped around my waist and holding me on his lap. “So, the will and all its stipulations is really just your great-grandfather’s way of forcing an alliance between the Rhodeses and another wealthy dynasty?” he surmises.
I nod my head and sigh. “Yep, because the rich always want to be richer.”
“We need to change the subject, because I’m starting to feel a bit sorry for Penelope, and it’s fucking with my head,” Kip says with a mock shudder that makes me laugh.
“We don’t feel sympathy for the enemy,” Gulliver growls. “Everyone knows the plan…tomorrow, we let the light shine on our Little Ghost and hopefully watch Penelope be brought to her knees, but tonight it’s about us, so let’s drink and be fucking merry, because tomorrow it’s war.”
I lift my bottle, and the guys all follow suit. “To war.”