The Wildflower: A Dark New Adult Bully Romance (Oakmount Elite Book 2)

Prologue

- Bel

Lilacs. The scent tickles my nostrils, wrapping me in comfort. The smell of my mother’s perfume surrounded me whenever I curled up on her lap as a kid and snuggled under the blankets while she read a book to me.

I sink deeper into the warmth of my mother’s body, promising never to leave her again now that she’s here, however fleeting that might be. I grip her tighter, the memory fading like leaves blowing in the wind. I’ll hold on to her memory forever. The moment I open my eyes, I know the pain will sweep back in and carry me away, ripping the perfectly constructed figment of solitude right out from under me.

”Maybel?” The deep, dark voice should terrify me but somehow doesn”t. My name echoes around in the concaves of my mind, but I ignore the beacon slipping back into that tranquil space.

”Maybel? Wake up!” the voice calls again, and there”s a hard edge this time. Fear strikes me, but I settle quickly because something about that voice is familiar.

The owner is someone my subconscious knows will not hurt me. I cling to the wispy clouds of my dream, slowly evaporating before my eyes. The smell of lilacs, the warmth of my mother’s arms around me, the soft thud of her heartbeat beneath my ear… it all slips through my fingers like sand through an hourglass.

Slowly, with the weight of ten cinder blocks on my eyes, I blink them open, then immediately regret it and slam them shut again with a groan. A throbbing sensation slices through my skull as it spears through me like a pencil straight to my pupil.

”Maybel?” A shadow moves above me, blocking out the light. I recognize that voice.

Sebastian.And suddenly, I have a whole other slew of problems I don”t know what to do with.

”The light,” I croak, my voice raw. ”It hurts my head.”

The brightness behind my eyelids dims, and it”s like someone has pulled a five-pound weight off my face.

”Thank you.” I wince while blinking my eyes open once more. It takes a moment to adjust to the room. As soon as they do, I’m struck by his disheveled image, noticing that he’s stripped off his tuxedo jacket and his bow tie hangs limply around his neck. He doesn’t appear to care.

When our gazes collide, he eases, his shoulders relaxing away from his ears. ”Good, you’re awake.”

I am, but a part of me doesn’t want to be, not when the events that transpired earlier come flooding back like a nightmare that refuses to let go.

Sebastian.

Drew.

Mom.

Fuck.

The pressure of it all threatens to suffocate me, and I scramble for the covers, wanting nothing more than to hide beneath them and escape the reality of my life. Sebastian doesn’t appear to agree and clamps a hand around my wrist, his hard grip stopping any further advancement. ”No fast movements. You have a concussion from the fall, and they had to put in a few stitches to close up the gash on your head.”

I attempt to tug my hand from his grasp so I can check for myself, but his unbreakable grip stops me before I can even try. ”Let go of me.”

His mouth folds down into a straight line, and he slowly relaxes his grip before taking a step back. Just like Drew, he’s great at painting an illusion. Though his features may convey a calmness, his body language speaks otherwise. His tense posture is tight, as if he might leap back and grab me the second I twitch the wrong way.

”How’s your head feel?”

I nod once, but the action is painful, so I become as still as a statue. ”It hurts. In fact, my entire body hurts.”

He sighs and smooths his hands down his thighs like he needs something to do, something to focus on. “Yeah, that’s probably from when you fainted. I caught you the best I could. It might also be adrenaline. Sometimes after a game, even if I don”t take a hit, I’ll come home sore, every muscle in my body stiff.”

I don’t respond and instead look at the other side of the massive hospital room. Everything is beige and white. Sterile and clean. The sheets are soft beneath my fingers, and the beep of the machines next to the bed are muted. It’s the complete opposite of all the hospital stays I’ve had with my mother, where the blankets are scratchy, the walls an off-yellow color, and the machines constantly beep because there aren’t enough staff to manage the influx of patients. A place like this will cost more than my entire college degree and then some. I don’t know how long I’ve been here, but I already know I’ve outstayed my welcome.

”I need to get out of here. I can”t afford this.” I don”t look at him as I speak. The last thing I want to see on his face is disgust or pity. After everything, and even in my current state, I refuse to give up an ounce of dignity.

As if he”s finally trusting I won”t get up and sprint out of the room, he slumps into the cushy armchair beside my bed. ”Don”t worry about how much it’s going to cost. What you need to worry about is your health.”

I shift against the bed and try to hide my wince while I glare at him. ”Only someone who doesn”t have to worry about money says don”t worry about money.”

A dark spark enters his eyes, reminding me of the first time I saw him at The Hunt. Sebastian might appear kind and courteous, but everyone knows his true nature. His beast lingers just below the surface, waiting for the moment he can come out to play. ”I said don”t fucking worry about it, so don”t fucking worry about it. It”s all covered. You”re not alone anymore, Bel.”

My jaw aches as I grit my teeth, and I narrow my eyes at him to make sure he sees the anger, the pain, all of it. I want him to know what it’s like to have your still beating heart ripped out of your chest. ”I’m not alone. I have my...” A sob rips from my throat, and the pain of the words gouges me, a never-ending wound that refuses to stop bleeding. I clench my jaw tightly and stare up at the ceiling while blinking back tears. ”I have my mom. Yeah, I might be poor, but I was never alone. I have the one thing that no amount of money could ever buy—love.”

Silence surrounds me, and after a few seconds, I risk glancing at him, even as hot tears slip down my cheeks. There”s a crinkle in his brow as he stares at the wall, and it hits me all over again.

My mother is gone.

Gone.

For good.

But I”m not the only one who lost her. Dammit. Shit. In a world full of filthy rich assholes, he’s the last person I should feel a sliver of sympathy for, but that’s not who I am. I might have lost my mother, but so did he. It doesn’t matter if he knew less about her than I did. He didn’t have to deal with infinite hospital visits and medications. He didn’t have bedtimes when she read to him and sang him lullabies.

He didn’t have any of those things, but he lost her all the same. At least I had those memories, but he didn’t even get that.

I rub my cheeks to wipe at my tears, causing the IV in my hand to pull tight and pinch. The pain helps bring me back to the present.

”If it’s okay with you, I’d like to get out of here. I doubt a hospital stay is suitable for the treatment of a concussion.”

”It’s not, but I wasn’t sure what your mental state would be once you were awake, and with the concussion, if you happened to lose it, then medications to sedate you would’ve been my only other option. The doctor advised me that you should have someone with you for the next couple of days to monitor your condition and make sure you’re okay.”

Great.Yet another reminder that now, without Mom, I am truly and completely alone. I don”t know anything about this man, my so-called brother. Only that he”s a dick, and one of Drew”s miserable friends, which makes me weary and anxious. I thought I could trust Drew, and look where that fucking got me.

I feel around the sheets for the button to call the nurse and press it hard. The effort makes me pant, and I slump against the soft mattress, my vision going hazy for a moment.

The nurse bustles in, her dark braids coiled on top of her head like a crown. ”Oh, you”re awake. Let me check your vitals quick, and then I”ll get out of your hair.”

I roll my head to the side to look at her. Lifting it is just too much effort. ”Actually, would it be possible to get the discharge papers going? I’d like to leave.”

She gives me a soft smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. ”Sorry, sweetie… but I can’t let you leave until the doctor gives me the clear. Last I checked, he was waiting for your scan results.”

I clench my jaw hard enough that it makes the ache in my head worse, then I shift to face Sebastian again. ”Okay. I guess since I’m stuck here, would it be possible to go see my mom?”

His forehead creases, concern etched into his features. Oh god, what now? He leans over to brace his elbows on his knees. ”Bel, this isn’t a conversation that either of us really wants to have right now, but your mental state is very important. I need to make sure that you understand that on our way to the hospital, your mother… our mother passed away. Peacefully.”

The pain of that statement, the confirmation that this is all real, hits me like a sledgehammer right in the sternum. It”s an emotional pain, but I feel it physically along my nerve endings. The air in my lungs stills, and I try to hold the anguish inside. I don’t want to keep breaking down, but that’s all I can do. The sorrow climbs up my throat, clawing its way out of me. The pain slips past my lips and fills the air with an ear-shattering sob. It’s uncontrolled, and agony consumes me, rattling me to the marrow in my bones.

Something cold and wet slips from my eyes and down my cheeks. I can feel the nurse’s and Sebastian’s eyes on me, and I hate it. The vulnerable state this has left me in makes me feel weak and useless. I’m not used to feeling so helpless.

”Yes,” I finally answer, my voice breathy. ”I know. I remember everything that happened back at the party.” I pin him with a hard expression. ”Everything.”

He glances across the bed to the nurse. ”Can we get a wheelchair, please?”

The woman doesn”t ask questions and simply nods once and leaves us alone all over again.

”Wow, so that’s what it”s like to have money? People just rush off to do your bidding with only a look? No questions or opinions spoken.”

The corner of his mouth tips up, and he spears his fingers into his messy curls and shoves them off his forehead. ”No, she”s a nurse, and to do her job, she would have to have compassion. She knows your mother died, and all she wants to do is help. Can’t blame her there. I guess I wonder does being poor mean you have to be an asshole to anyone who does have money? Because if so, I have bad news for you, Bel. You’re now one of those people who has money.”

I lean my head back against the pillow to try to alleviate the throbbing in my head. However, I doubt the throbbing is due to the head injury alone. This entire situation is a migraine in itself. ”I don”t want your money.”

”It”s not my money. It”s yours. Yours, our grandfather’s, however you want to word it. He put money in a trust for you and our mother a long time ago. It”s just been sitting there for you or her to claim it. Now, it all belongs to you.”

Somehow, that hurts worse. I”d rather have my mother here, living and smiling, way more than any amount of money.

”The money doesn’t matter. I don’t give a shit about any of it. I just want to see her, please.” I don”t even bother swiping at the tears that cascade down my cheeks. Crying is a permanent feature at this point.

Thankfully, the nurse returns to the room at that moment with the wheelchair. I fight back nausea and dizziness as I push myself up, trying to swing my legs over the edge of the bed. I’ve barely moved, and Sebastian is already at my side, his gaze hard and unreadable.

“Let me help you,” he orders gruffly. I want more than anything to push him away, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I need something, someone to hold me together and make sure I don’t crack straight down the middle. The nurse grabs a robe and hands it to Sebastian, who helps me put it on. Then he helps untangle the IV tubes and wires to the heart machine before walking me over to the chair.

All the movement makes my head pound more, but I don’t care. I need to see her.

Once I’m situated in the wheelchair, Sebastian wheels me out of the room and down the long corridor to the other end. It pays to have money, I see. The rooms are bigger, and the entire place is so quiet. Nothing like the raucous and loud rooms my mom is… was usually stuck in.

At the end of the hallway, we turn into another room, and I clamp my hand over my mouth when I spot her lying on the bed with her eyes closed. She looks asleep, and I can almost picture her green eyes opening, joy filling them as she smiles at me. But that will never happen again. I’ll never get to experience her smile or the glittering of her eyes. From now on, those things will be just a fragmented memory.

I glance back at Sebastian. ”You moved her?”

He nods. ”I wanted you to be able to say goodbye. I didn’t get to speak with her. The doctors called me, and by the time I made it here, she was already gone. When I realized what was going on, I left to get you. I know how much you love her. Why else would you work your ass off to help pay for her medical bills?”

I swallow around the tennis ball-sized lump in my throat and stare at the dull gray of her skin, the white half-moons of her nails. I”m looking at her body, but I can feel she”s not here. No part of her is here in this hospital room any longer. Just the shell of her spirit remains. Time stands still, and it feels like my heart is being ripped out of my chest.

Cold streaks trail down my cheeks faster now, and I cover my face with my hands to try to stop them. It can’t be real. It can’t be. A ragged sob fills the room, the sound both angry and sad. It takes me a moment to realize the noise had come out of me. My lungs deflate, and the throbbing behind my eyes intensifies. I think I’m going to throw up.

“I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but everything will be okay. I promise, and I don’t ever break my promises, Bel.” Sebastian tries his best to soothe me, but he has no idea what he’s saying. How can he think anything will ever be okay? My mother… our mother is gone. Dead. Nothing will be okay again. Nothing. Every single breath I inhale and exhale hurts as I try to grapple with the understanding that she”s not coming back. That she’s not peacefully sleeping in that bed in front of me.

No more cinnamon toast on cold nights. No more drive-throughs where we have to comb the bottoms of our purses for enough change to cover the cost, all while laughing at each new thing we unearth from the depths of our bags. No more watching soap operas in the afternoon while I tease Mom about how cheesy they are. All the memories bottle up, threatening to choke the life out of me. I let out another horrendous sob. I didn’t even get to say goodbye. I didn’t get to tell her how good of a mom she was. I didn’t get to tell her I love her more than anything in this world…

A pair of warm, rough hands grasp me, cradling my cheeks. Sebastian”s face swims into view, his image blurry through my tears. ”Maybel, breathe. Take a deep breath for me, or we will have to leave the room until you calm down.”

I try to do just that, but it”s like sucking air through a straw into my lungs. His grip on me tightens, and he squeezes my cheeks tighter, his fingers warm and damp from my tears.

”Come on, Bel. Breathe. You can do it.”

I watch as he does it, breathing through his mouth before slowly exhaling out of his nose. I mirror his movements and suck in a ragged breath, then sob it back out. Over and over. I don”t know how long I sit there drowning in my grief. Somehow, I make my way to the floor and let the cold seep into my bones. Sebastian’s strong arms hold me together, keeping me from shattering. The heavy thud of his heartbeat pulls me back to the present. He eases back, and I notice his cheeks are flushed and a little wet too. ”Are you feeling better?”

I don”t risk looking at my mother again, not when I can barely breathe as it is. I want to hold her hand and push the hair out of her face, but I can’t bring myself to do it. Not when I know she’s no longer there.

“Thank you for bringing me to her. I… I just can’t do this. I thought I could, but I can’t. I can’t stand seeing her like this. I want to go home.”

He nods once and gently helps me to my feet. Then he glances at someone lingering near the door over my shoulder. ”Can you have the doctor get her paperwork ready? I”ll have a private doctor visit the house if she needs further care. I think being at home would help her heal better.”

“Of course. I’ll reach out to the doctor.” The voice matches that of the nurse who came to my room earlier. Sebastian gives her a nod, then helps me into the chair. My lip trembles as I bite it, attempting to hold back tears. Losing someone you love, there isn’t anything like it. It feels like someone stole a piece of who you are, and there’s no way to get it back. Anger and sadness battle it out in my mind as Sebastian wheels me out of the room.

”You can just wear what you have on. I”ll order some clothes for you, or we can pick up what you have at the dorms later.”

I”m slumped in the chair, barely able to move, let alone think. I don’t want to go back to school. I don’t want to eat, sleep, or even breathe. I just want my mother back.

He continues talking like I”m actually participating in the conversation. ”Don”t worry about anything. I”ll make the arrangements for her. Right now, I need you to worry about taking care of yourself. If anything happens to you…”

I zone out for a while, stuck in the deep, dark confines of my mind, hiding from the pain, anger, and sadness. I”ve lost everything. Mom. Drew. Jackie. I have nothing left and no one left to live for. What’s the point anymore?

A sudden jolt pulls me from my reverie, and I blink and return to the present, realizing that I’m suddenly in a car. When did he put me in a car? Disoriented, I shift in the seat and peer out the window. A huge mansion looms outside. This is definitely not home.

”This isn”t where I live,” I whisper.

”It is now. I”m sorry, Bel, I know this is a lot of change all at once,” he speaks softly from beside me. ”I can”t protect you if you are off on your own. You”ll have to stay at the family estate from now on so I can keep an eye on you. I don’t trust anyone right now.”

I wave at the freaking mansion beyond the window. ”This doesn’t even make sense. You don”t even live here. You live at The Mill.”

He lets out a slow breath from his nose. ”Not anymore. When our grandfather died, I had no option but to step into line as the next heir. My place is here, managing the family affairs. I”ll still finish school and do Mill functions, but from now on, I live here. And so do you.”

His bossy, domineering tone has returned, but I don”t have the strength to fight him. Not today at least.

He exits the car and jogs around to open my door. Gently, as if I’m made of glass, he helps me stand. My legs are jelly, and my knees threaten to buckle beneath my weight. I feel weak, so weak, but I can’t be. I can’t be weak. The pain in my head has subsided, probably from the pain meds they loaded me with before they removed my IV. If only they had a medication that could ease my heartache…

I hold his forearm but don”t lean into him. ”Just so you know, I can walk on my own.”

“Sure, says the one walking like a newborn fawn.” I grimace and glance at his face to find him smiling at me. It’s a genuine smile, the kind you give someone you care about.

It’s a lie. He doesn’t care about me. This is all about his image and using me. That’s all this is, all it has to be. He helps me up the steps and to the front door. The sprawling mansion is modern, with glass everywhere. Massive black double doors open when Sebastian swipes his hand in front of some sensor near the handle. He leads me into an open foyer with shining marble floors and cathedral ceilings. A chandelier that looks made out of a million diamonds glitters above us. Ahead is a double staircase, and rooms lead off in every direction on the main floor. I can’t even be bothered to comment on how over the top and ridiculous this all is. Who the hell lives like this?

“I know it’s different from what you’re used to and that it will take some time to adjust to it, but just know there is nothing you cannot have, Bel. I refuse to let you go without.”

I don’t respond. What is there to say? This is no longer my life. I’m merely a puppet in this play, and someone else is pulling the strings. With more patience than I ever imagined Sebastian having, he guides me up the stairs and down a long hallway. It’s decorated in rich florals, expensive fabrics, and precious-looking knickknacks.

The damn hallway alone is bigger than my mom”s house.

For one moment, I wonder where everyone is. Does he not have anyone either? In all the time I was messing around with Drew, I never thought to ask questions about his friends. Then again, why would I do that? It’s not like we were really ever together.

Sebastian stops at a door near the end of the hall and grabs the silver knob, turning it and pushing it open in one swoop.

Escorting me into the bedroom, he helps me sit on the edge of the massive king-size bed in the center of the room between two huge windows. I barely give the room a glance, but from what I can see, it’s decorated in stately grays and mauves. It”s a pretty room, but right now, I don”t give a shit about any of that.

It”s like I felt too much all at once, and my emotional center has shut down. I’ve short-circuited my brain, which is a good thing since he turns to me and presses a piece of paper into my hand. I recognize my mom”s handwriting scribbled on the front of the white envelope. What is this? Sadness suffocates me, and suddenly, I don’t want Sebastian to leave.

“I was told to make sure this gets to you. It’s from your mother. Feel free to read it when you’re ready. Grief takes time to get through, and we all have our own ways of coping. Don’t lose your spark, Bel. Don’t let this change you. I didn’t know our mother at all, but even with that knowledge, I know she wouldn’t want you to lose sight of who you are. Use the intercom by the bed if you need anything.”

I don”t respond. My mouth is dry, my eyes locked on the paper in my hands.

It takes me a long time to gently pry open the back and tug out the thin piece of notebook paper hiding inside. A few pieces of the torn edge from a spiral flutter to the floor. A smile tugs at my lips when my mother’s loopy cursive handwriting sprawls across the page.

Baby,

I”m sorry you have to find out this way. I tried to tell you so many times, but you refused to even entertain the idea of me dying. I can’t fault you for refusing to accept it. You’re as stubborn as your mother sometimes. So this is the backup plan. I hate putting it on you this way, but it’s my only option. Sebastian is your brother. I promise everything will make sense soon enough, but all you need to know right now is that I gave him up to keep you safe a long time ago. My only regret is not getting to fall in love with him like I”ve fallen in love with you. I know this is hard to understand, and you’re confused, but hopefully, it will all make sense someday.

Listen to Sebastian. He”ll keep you safe, I know it.

Always remember, I love you so much!! You’ve been the light of my life since the second you opened your eyes. You took care of me when I should have been taking care of you. Well, now Sebastian gets that honor, and the man you decide is yours one day. You will always be so very perfect to me, my little Maybel. Always.

I want you to remember not to let the hard days win. I”m sure there will be plenty of them for you, but always remember I’m there beside you. And I know it’s a faraway thought at the moment, but I want you to find love, the kind that awakens the soul and makes you ache for more. I thought I had experienced it once before, but things got cut short. I don’t want that for you, sweetie. I want you to experience love for what it is. A valley of highs and lows, and the only person to help guide you is the one standing beside you through it all.

XOXO

Mom

I clutchthe letter to my chest and fall back against the mattress. My heart beats, and my lungs inflate, but I feel nothing but pain and loss. There’s a hole in my chest that will never be filled, and I don’t know how I’ll survive with what’s left.