The Lie That Traps (Lies and Truths Book 1)

41. Izabella

IZABELLA

You know when you get to the point that you have no idea what to do next, so you just go along for the ride and hope something will come to you before it’s too late? Well, that’s where I’m at. For the last month, Penelope has done everything from skipping class, deliberately answering every question wrong on quizzes, and refusing to hand assignments in or handing in stuff that just says the same word repeated over and over. But she still receives an A for every single class. It’s become almost a joke between the six of us that no matter what she does, they’ll never fail her.

We need to come up with a new strategy, but apart from her proving that she’s no longer a virgin or getting arrested and totally annihilating her character, none of us can think of anything that will break the terms of the will.

Tomorrow is my and Gulliver’s engagement party, and I’m nervous, although I don’t know why. We’ve gotten so used to pretending that we’re in love that it’s easy now, effortless. That’s probably got something to do with the fact that I stopped pretending a while back.

Gulliver is a beautiful fucking nightmare, and I’m the idiot who’s fallen in love with him. I don’t know when what I feel for him went from hate to friendship to complete obsession and love, but as much as I remind myself a thousand times a day that it’s all fake, it feels pretty damn real to me.

“Hey, Ghost,” he says as he wraps his arms around me from behind, his hand grazing the bottom of my breast as his lips settle onto the crook of my neck.

“Hey,” I rasp, a wave of longing for him hitting me that makes no sense when he’s wrapped around me like a snake.

“Let’s go home. I’m over this day already, and we have the party tomorrow night,” he growls, his lips kissing a path up my neck, teasing me on the spot he knows I love being kissed.

“We can’t just skip,” I say breathily, my eyes fluttering shut.

“Yes, we can. They won’t care.”

“Sorry to interrupt,” my sister says, clearing her throat dramatically.

Gulliver’s growl of frustration is loud against my skin, and I can’t help but smile. “Hey, Penelope.”

“I’m really sorry,” she says, her expression pained, her eyes sad and a little downcast.

“It’s fine. We shouldn’t be doing this in the hallway anyway. Principal Smith has already threatened to give us detention twice this week,” I say, trying fruitlessly to push Gulliver’s arms from around my waist.

“That’s not what I mean,” she says ruefully, pushing a gold envelope toward us.

“What’s that?” Gulliver asks gruffly.

“It’s an invitation,” Penelope whispers.

“To what?”

“Dinner tonight. Mom sprung it on me this morning. I swear I didn’t know anything about it until now, but she’s invited your dad too, and I don’t think there’s any way for you to refuse.”

My muscles stiffen as tension radiates through me. “Where?” I ask, my voice barely loud enough to be heard.

“At home,” Penelope whispers.

“No,” Gulliver snaps, pulling me closer, his arms holding me even tighter.

“I think Mom told your dad that they wanted to mend fences before the party tomorrow so the press didn’t get wind of the rift,” she says, her shoulders pulled back, despite the tremor in her voice. “She’s going to do something, but I don’t know what. You need to be careful.”

Nodding, I swallow down the lump of very real fear in my throat.

“Fuck this. Come on, we’re leaving,” Gulliver says. “I need to speak to my dad and find out what the hell he thinks she’s playing at. I’ll figure out a way to get us out of this.”

Letting him pull me away, I keep my gaze trained on my sister and the look in her eyes. She’s scared, and that’s more terrifying than anything else.

It’s almost seven thirty p.m. in the evening when I emerge from the room Gulliver and I have been sharing since the photoshoot. Yolanda and Fitzy have worked their magic, and I’m dressed for war, or at least that’s what they described my outfit as. I look like a warrior going into battle, only instead of leather or chain mail, I have couture. Tonight’s outfit is a structured tuxedo dress cut to mid-thigh and paired with sky-high patent leather Louboutin black pumps. My makeup is fierce with dark eyes and my signature bright red lips, and my hair has been teased into sleek finger waves that frame my face.

My image in the mirror is startling. I look much older and much more intimidating than I would ever consider myself to be, but tonight, I need that. I never intended to walk back into my parents’ house, but no matter how much Gulliver has screamed and yelled, the only way we’re getting out of this dinner is simply by refusing to go. Gulliver is completely onboard with this idea, but I could see his dad wasn’t.

“Your parents would like to attempt to build some bridges before the party tomorrow night. Trudy was hysterical on the phone. She sobbed,”Donovan told me when he sat us down and explained why refusing to attend would seem childish and immature.

Gulliver told him that he literally couldn’t give a fuck, but honestly, I want to know what my family has planned, and I’d rather they play their cards tonight than tomorrow at the party.

That’s why I’m dressed for battle and steeling myself to return to my childhood home.

The car journey is short and silent. Gulliver dressed to complement me in a black suit, with a black shirt and tie. His hair is combed back, and his expression is so somber and hard that we look more like we’re attending a funeral than a family dinner.

When we drive through the familiar gates that lead to my family’s home, I feel nausea rising up my throat. The last time I was here, Mark was collecting me, bruised and broken. I’ve spoken to him several times in the last month and even went for dinner at his house to meet his wife and children. He and Mrs. Humphries are the only good things to ever come out of my parents’ home.

Looking down at our entwined fingers resting on Gulliver’s thigh, I attempt to smile when he lifts our joined hands and presses a kiss to the back.

“It’s not too late. We don’t have to go in there,” he whispers quietly.

“It’ll be fine. It’s just dinner, and then we leave,” I say, assuring myself as much as him.

“Family is important,” Donovan says comfortingly. “I’m proud of you both for coming tonight. I’m sure you’d be kicking yourself if you didn’t at least try to mend these fractured bonds.”

I hold back the snort of derision that threatens to burst from me. My parents don’t care about me. Tonight is a power play, they’re planning something, I just don’t know what.

“That’s a really pretty picture you’re painting, Dad. It’s just a shame that it’s hiding all the ugly truths,” Gulliver snarls.

When we pull up outside the house, my nerves ratchet up until it feels like a herd of elephants is stomping around in my gut. The only thing keeping me grounded is the feel of Gulliver’s thumb rubbing reassuring circles on the side of my hand. Right now, he’s the only thing I’m certain of because, real or not, I know he won’t fail me. He won’t forget me, and he won’t leave me because I know without thought, without question, without doubt, that he sees me.

Channeling my inner Penelope, I pull back my shoulders and drag in a shaky breath before I follow Gulliver from the car. He reclaims my hand the moment he can, reassuring me with his touch and making this awful night marginally better.

Mrs. Humphries opens the door, her expression wary and fearful. “Miss Izabella, Mr. Winslow, Mr. Winslow,” she greets. “Please come in, Mr. and Mrs. Rhodes and Miss Penelope are waiting for you in the living room.”

I offer her the most reassuring smile I can muster, squeezing her arm as I pass her on my way into the house. Her eyes are screaming a thousand questions at me, but I can’t tell her anything. Because I honestly don’t know what I’m doing back here either. Closing the door behind us, we wait for her to lead us to the living room, like I didn’t live here for the last eighteen years.

“Miss Izabella, Mr. Winslow, and Mr. Winslow have arrived,” she announces formally as she opens the door to the living room, stepping aside to let us pass. Donovan steps in first, then I go next, and Gulliver—still holding my hand tightly—enters last.

The room is just like it was the last time I was here when both of my parents violently assaulted me like I was nothing more than a disobedient dog. A shudder of revulsion passes through me when I step over the spot where I was curled on the floor, hurt and bleeding.

My sister helped me that night, she told me to run, from this house and our family.

So much has happened since then, but standing here now, looking at the fake friendliness on my parents’ faces, it feels like it was only yesterday. Objectively, I know these people are my parents, but I don’t feel any kind of familial warmth toward them. Right now, they’re just strangers who contributed to my DNA, nothing more.

“Izabella, sweetheart,” my mom gushes, clamping her hand over her mouth as she rushes toward me, fake emotion masking her features.

When she throws her arms around my neck, I freeze, not letting go of Gulliver’s hand and not making any effort to return her pretense by hugging her back. From over her shoulder, Penelope catches my eye and waves her cell at me urgently, her eyes wide and scared. I offer her a barely perceptible dip of my chin and then pull back until my mom is forced to release her hold on me.

Curling my body around Gulliver’s, I back away from my father, who offers nothing more than a grim smile. “Nice to see you, Izabella. You’re looking well.”

“Hello,” I offer, not addressing either of them with the parental monikers of Mom and Dad. If Donovan wasn’t here, I’d probably have used their first names as a “fuck you,” but I manage to bite it back.

Gulliver greets them with forced cordiality. “Mr. Rhodes, Mrs. Rhodes, Penelope.” And then the room falls into stilted silence.

“Let’s sit,” Mom says brightly.

My cell vibrates in my clutch bag, and as I lead Gulliver over to the couch furthest away from my parents, I pull it out and quickly open the unread message.

Penelope – Don’t drink the champagne.

As we sit down, I lean into Gulliver and whisper, “Don’t drink the champagne” against his ear. His eyes widen, and he looks at me for more information, but I don’t know anything else to share. Instead, I just smile, and he returns the gesture, curling his arm around my body like the young lovers that we’re pretending to be.

Crossing to the bar cart in the corner of the room, Dad pulls a bottle of champagne from an ice bucket and starts filling glasses. I take the moment to look at my mom and sister. Mom’s dress is made for seduction. Bright red, tightly hugging her curves and with a neckline that plunges enough to show off the results of the several plastic surgeries she’s had in the last few years. She has the body of a woman in her twenties, despite her real age being in her late forties. In direct comparison, Penelope is dressed for purity and innocence in white, her hair straight, her makeup flawless in her usual pastel tones.

My dad looks tired and old, and I wish I could find some sympathy for him, but my hatred outweighs anything else I could feel for him. Moving toward us, he hands the first two glasses of champagne to Gulliver and me before handing one to Mom, Donovan, and then Penelope before finally taking one for himself.

“A toast,” Mom says, a wide smile spread across her lips. “To new beginnings and the joining of our families.”

I glance at Penelope, then look at Gulliver, tapping my glass against his, then lifting it to my mouth and pretending to sip from it without letting the liquid touch my lips.

My parents try to make small talk, but the conversation is stilted and strained because neither Gulliver nor I answer any of their questions with anything more than a yes or no. There’s an audible sigh of relief when Mrs. Humphries announces that dinner is ready. We all rise, and my cell vibrates again. Surreptitiously, I twist around, glancing at the new message.

Penelope – Excuse yourself to the bathroom, say you’re not feeling well. Tell Gulliver to come and find us in two minutes.

Carefully, I press the cell into Gulliver’s hand as I turn back around, blocking him from view while he has a chance to read the message. For a moment, I wonder if I should trust my sister. She was once a very willing participant in my parents’ games, but I think the night Mom and Dad attacked me changed things for her almost as much as it did for me. Call it gut instinct or just sheer blind trust, but something has been telling me that she’s truly on our side since the night she got drunk and told me about Geoffrey Bancroft.

Gulliver reaches for my hand, pressing my cell into it, as he hooks it through his elbow and moves to escort me into the dining room. A few steps out of the living room, I pause. “Excuse me for a moment. I’d like to freshen up before we eat; I’m feeling a little strange.”

Gulliver smiles at me, his eyes full of some unexplained emotion. “Are you okay, Ghost?” he asks, winking at me when no one else can see him.

“I’m fine. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“I’ll come with you. I need to freshen up anyway,” Penelope offers, looping her arm through mine and marching me down the hall. Dragging me into the bathroom, she closes and locks the door behind us.

“They drugged your champagne,” she blurts.

“What?”

“They drugged both yours and Gulliver’s champagne. They put Rohypnol in your drinks, and they want me to…” She pauses, squeezing her eyes tightly shut and grimacing. “Mom told me that I needed to take you up to my room and lock you in, that the drugs would knock you out. Then she wants me to put on your clothes and take Gulliver to your room and have sex with him in the hopes that I’ll get pregnant,” she confesses, her voice barely above a whisper. “She set up cameras in there so she could blackmail him into marrying me, not you.”

“Oh my god,” I say, nausea hitting me like a freight train. “They tried to drug us so you could rape Gulliver. This is just…oh my god.”

“They’ve lost their minds. They were just sitting there discussing it over coffee when I got back from school today. Like it was the most normal thing in the world that they were planning to use the date rape drug on you. I need to get out of here; I can’t stay here anymore,” she cries, big, fat, scared tears rolling down her face.

A knock at the door makes us both jump. “It’s me,” Gulliver says.

I fumble with the lock three times before I finally get it undone and throw open the door, grabbing Gulliver and pulling him into the small room before locking the door behind him. “Tell him,” I say, looking at my sister, needing to hear the words from her mouth again, just in case I misheard her.

“The champagne is drugged with Rohypnol. My parents want me to lock Izzy in my room, take her clothes, then take you to her room and have sex with you. They even got colored contacts for me to wear just in case you were still conscious enough to notice.” She swallows thickly before forcing herself to continue speaking. “They hoped the sex would result in me getting pregnant, but if not, they set up video cameras to record it all with the intention of blackmailing you into dumping Izabella and forcing you to marry me instead.”

Gulliver’s face pales, and his mouth falls open. Without thought, he reaches for me, dragging me into his chest as if he needs to be touching me to know we’re both okay. “We need to leave, right fucking now. All of us. Penelope, you too. Your parents have completely lost their shit, and it’s not safe for you here anymore.”

My sister nods, tears still rolling down her face.

Gulliver pulls his cell from his pocket and dials a number. “We’re ready. Yes, thank you.” Ending the call, he presses a kiss to my temple. “The car will be here in two minutes.”

“Are we leaving without your dad?” I ask.

“Yes. I arranged for Thorn’s limo to be on standby around the corner just in case we needed to leave quickly.”

Burrowing a little deeper into his chest, I reach out and take my sister’s hand. “It’s going to be okay,” I tell her, even though after tonight, I’m not convinced it will be anymore.

She nods, her eyes unfocused. “It is going to be okay. I know what I have to do to fix this,” she says.

Gulliver checks his watch. “Let’s go,” he orders, unlocking the door and pulling me from the room.

I keep hold of my sister, towing her along behind me and not releasing her until we’re through the door being held open by Mrs. Humphries. “It’s time to quit,” I tell her, and she smiles as we rush down the steps and into the limo that’s waiting with the engine still running at the curb.

An hour later, we’re sitting in the penthouse suite at the Hamilton again, all of us subdued and quiet now that Hawthorn, Davis, and Kip have been filled in on my parents’ plans for us this evening.

On the way here, we stopped by Gulliver’s house, grabbed a change of clothes, and picked up the guys, and now Penelope is curled into a ball at the end of the couch wearing a pair of my pajamas.

Gulliver hasn’t let me go since we left my parents’ house. He insisted on helping me change out of my war outfit and into soft flannel shorts and one of his T-shirts. Now his arms are banded tightly around my waist while I sit in his lap.

“Tell them,” I prompt her.

Inhaling sharply, tears fill my sister’s eyes before she explains everything. She tells the guys about the drugs and our parents’ plan and the realization that it’s not safe for her to stay at home anymore. By the time she’s finished speaking, the haunted look in her eyes is still there, but a resolve has settled over her too. “I thought I could do this the easy way, but I can’t,” she says softly.

“Hey,” Thorn says gently, touching her shoulder. “This wasn’t you; this was your psycho parents. You did the right thing.”

Gulliver presses his lips to my neck, his hold on me possessive. “We have to figure out how to stop them. Your parents are out of control, and honestly, I don’t really know what they’ll do next.”

While a tense silence thickens the air, I scan the faces of the boys I call my friends, my sister, who maybe isn’t as bad as I thought, and Gulliver, the boy I’ve fallen in love with. As much as I wish there was another way, there’s only one solution that I can see, even if it’s not the one I want. Glancing at Gulliver, I offer him a sad smile before I turn to my sister. “There’s only one way to stop them. We run.”