Chapter 24
L andon never ended up winning me a stuffed animal, but after the orgasm he gave me and the words he spoke to me, who cares about a piece of fluff made in a sweatshop? The whole way home, I’m buzzing with aftershocks of him. With a growing need for more.
But the girl sitting in front of me overshadows all this sweet anticipation.
Stella is oddly quiet, her face twisted toward the window, practically giving her father her back as she rides shotgun. Landon glances in her direction more than a few times, clearly picking up on the vibe she’s putting out.
I’m not sure what happened.
We were set to leave the fair, all of us meeting up by the front entrance surrounded by security, since people were snapping pictures of the Fritz clan. But Stella looked upset, holding close to Layla and refusing to talk about whatever was bothering her when Landon asked.
Now that we’re almost home, I can’t help the paranoid thoughts that she’s upset about me. That she’s figured out—or someone told her—that her dad and I are… crap, I don’t even know what we are. But I’m worried that whatever this is between us, Stella isn’t happy about it.
We pull into Landon’s driveway, straight into one of the bays of his three-car garage. Before he even has a chance to shut down the car, Stella unbuckles herself and darts out of her seat.
“Bellas?” Landon calls out as she slams the door behind her.
“I’m going to bed,” she yells back, and just like that, she’s flying through the door to the house and is gone.
“Shit,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. “Let me walk you home, and then I need to go figure that out.”
I shake my head as I get out of the car. “No. She’s obviously upset about something. Go talk to her. I can walk next door on my own.”
He hesitates, clearly torn. “Do you think she knows about us?”
Us. If only now were the time to question just what that means.
“I don’t know.” I lean up on the balls of my feet and plant a kiss on the corner of his lips. Then I walk out of the garage without waiting for him.
“Will I still see you later?” he calls after me, and I pause without turning back. I’m in so much danger of losing my heart for good to him, and if his daughter doesn’t approve…
“Text me after you talk to Stella.”
Then I shoot out of the garage and across his lawn, not quite running, but not walking either. But just as I reach my door and blow out a relieved breath—one I don’t even understand—my phone chimes in my purse.
I quickly tug it out, though I should know better than to assume Landon is already texting me. He’s dealing with an upset Stella, and now it seems is when I have to put out my own family fire.
Cat: I heard all about your divorce. So sorry, sis. Call me. I want to come visit and help you.
God, what a duplicitous bitch she is.
I guess I can’t avoid this forever.
Shutting and locking the door behind me, I drop my purse on my kitchen counter and immediately go for reinforcements in the form of liquid courage.
As I generously pour the gold, fruity liquid into my wineglass, I dial her up before I can second-guess or even think about what I’m going to say to her.
Cat picks up immediately. Her voice—so shockingly similar to mine—rings through my phone as I switch her to speakerphone and set it down on the counter.
“Hey,” she exclaims, surprise and delight in her voice. “It’s so good to hear from you. I wasn’t sure you’d call after the last time we saw each other.”
“You mean when you got trashed at my wedding and hit on every rich guy there, whether they were married or not?”
She laughs like it’s the funniest thing ever, and I take a hearty sip of my wine. “Well, that’s not exactly how I remember it, though the details are fuzzy for me. Sorry about that. I should have called and apologized back then, but things have been… busy, I guess, for me.”
Oh, I imagine they have been.
“What have you been doing, Cat? Mom and Dad never tell me anything.” Not that I ask anymore.
More laughter, and it’s impossible to tell if it’s fake or not. If she hears the edge to my voice, she’s clearly ignoring it. “A little of this, a lot of that. You know how it is.”
Not really, and that’s the vaguest fucking answer I’ve ever heard.
“The folks told me about your divorce from David.”
I take another sip, gripping the glass in my hand as I stare down at my phone. “And what did they tell you?”
“That you walked out on him six months ago. Without telling anyone.”
“Yup.”
“Are you doing okay?”
Now it’s my turn to laugh because the bitch doesn’t have a drop of sympathy in her voice. “I’m great.”
“So, how did it end? I mean, Mom and Dad said David’s really upset about it. That he wants you back. They mentioned you got a settlement out of him, so I guess it’s not like you need him now.”
My eyes bug out of my head. David. That fucking cowardly swine told them about the money I got in our divorce.
No wonder Cat is calling me. No wonder my parents have been texting relentlessly and nothing has been printed in the tabloids.
They’re holding out, hoping I’m now their lucky golden ticket.
Fuck them.
“And I heard you drugged him, fucked him, and then you and our loving parents blackmailed him for years.”
Silence. But now I’m grinning like the Cheshire cat because that felt good. I flip off my phone as I take another sip of wine, but somehow my glass is empty, so I grab the bottle from the fridge to refill it. Giving my sister a minute or two to figure out her next move.
“You still there, sis?” I chide.
She clears her throat. “Yeah. I’m still here.” She laughs some more, but now it’s sardonic, and I know this is where things are really going to get bad. “I didn’t think he’d ever have the balls to tell you. The man was so pathetically lovesick and broken when he realized what we were up to.”
Hmmm.
“Do you care so little for me?” All of you, I want to add, but don’t bother. Hell, I don’t even know why I asked. It’s obvious they don’t.
“You and I were never going to be besties, Elle, and I needed the money. Mom and Dad were in just as dire straits as I was. You had yourself a nice, cozy situation, and we took advantage.”
“I’m aware. You ruined my marriage.”
“The way I see it, you’re sitting pretty with a few million dollars. You’re better than David ever was, anyway. Miss perfect princess who always had it so easy.”
Fuck you!
Because easy? No. No, I didn’t have it easy.
Not even a little. I had two parents who barely registered I existed.
A twin sister who couldn’t stand me. A best friend who drowned when I was a teenager.
A husband who verbally abused me for the better part of two years. So no. Not fucking easy, sister.
“How’s this since we’re past the bullshit part of our conversation? You give me half the three million you got from your divorce, and we won’t splash around your husband’s misdeeds with your twin publicly. Think of the scandal and embarrassment that would cause.” She emits a fake gasp.
I glare down at my phone, leaning against the counter when what I really want to do is hang up and block her number. “It would cause a lot of both. I already know this. But I’d rather eat shit from the press than give a penny to any of you.”
“I need this money, Elle,” she presses quickly, her voice taking on a desperate note. “Giancarlo will not be patient much longer. Or maybe I should just give him your address and settle the score that way. I doubt he’d care which one of us he breaks.”
I shake my head. “Who the fuck is Giancarlo?”
“My bookie and boss. Who do you think, you stupid bitch? We didn’t all have cheer scholarships and rich professional golfer husbands. Some of us had to do the best we could with what we had going.”
“My heart bleeds for you. Truly. You should call Hallmark and sing them your sad song. Maybe they’ll pay you for your bullshit by turning it into a movie.”
“I owe him big. It’s no fucking joke. David’s money was helping me pay that down. Now that’s all gone because of you, and you’re being cavalier with my life. He’ll kill me, Elle. Without even caring, he will.”
My eyebrows hit my hairline, unaware my sister was gambling again.
I knew she had gotten herself in some trouble years ago—when I was at University of Miami she was betting on games—but as far as I knew, that had all been cleared up, and she had stopped.
Actually, it was my parents who cleared it up for her, now that I think about it. Interesting.
“How much do you owe him?”
“Five hundred grand.”
I whistle through my teeth. Jesus.
“Now you see why we did what we had to do and why I need you to do this for me. Mom and dad helped me. Why can’t you?”
I can only shake my head as words fail me.
“Is that why they helped you with David? Because you already put them in the hole once?”
Silence and then a sigh.
“After he’s paid off, I’ll use the rest of the money to disappear somewhere, and you’ll never hear from me again.
I promise. Mom and Dad can figure their own shit out.
They still have ways of earning and an income from Dad’s pension.
They were just mooching off David because they could.
But I need this, Elle. I fucking need it, or he’ll kill me. ”
So she keeps saying. But how on earth can I trust what she’s saying is true?
Then again, I think it is. I think she’s in some real deep shit with this guy because all her life people have bailed her out when she needed them to.
Lifting my glass to my lips, I polish off the rest of it before chucking the glass in the sink, listening as it shatters and glass sprays everywhere. My hands meet the counter as I stare dejectedly down at my phone.
What do I do now?
What the hell do I do now?
These people ruined my life. Care absolutely nothing for me. But she’s my sister. My twin. And suddenly I’m the difference between what… life and being murdered? I can’t do nothing and allow her to die. I’d never be able to live with myself.
But I don’t want to do this. Be another person to bail her out. I don’t trust her. I don’t trust that she won’t still try to sell what happened between David and me to the press. I also don’t believe that this guy will actually kill her.
“Send me his information, and I will speak with him directly about what you owe. If I determine you’re not trying to play me, I’ll pay him the money.
In exchange, you’ll keep your mouth shut and leave me the hell alone.
You get nothing from me, and we are done.
That is my only offer. Take it or leave it.
Because from where I’m sitting, a little press ain’t looking so bad compared to your life. ”
“I can live with that.”
“If you betray me again…”
“I won’t. I promise you, I won’t. What about Mom and Dad?”
I laugh bitterly, head thrown back and everything, all psycho mode.
“They’re not my problem. They’re yours. You can let them know that I’m done, and I never want to hear from them again.
If they go to the press, I will not pay your debt.
If any of you talk after it gets paid, I will tell the whole fucking world what you all did.
I’ll cry sob stories on television, and if I can manage it, get you all arrested for extortion. Understand?”
“Yes. I’ll tell them.”
“Send me his info and lose my number.”
I disconnect the call and drop my head to my counter, letting it all out. I scream and pound my fists and rage . Does anything good ever last? Am I not deserving of a new life and a fresh start and some fucking happiness?
I shriek at the top of my lungs, howling out curses.
“I fucking hate all of you,” I bellow, pounding my fist again, but refusing to cry. I will not do it. Not over them. My parents knew the trouble Cat was in, but instead of coming to me and explaining the situation, they helped her set up my husband for blackmail.
Pushing off the counter, I storm out of the kitchen and up the stairs, ripping my clothes off as I go.
I bypass my room and head straight for my shower, flip it on to scalding hot, and get right in.
The water sears at me, and I collapse to the tile floor, gripping my soaked hair in my hands, my forehead pressing into my knees.
I’m panting hard, nearly to the point of hyperventilating.
I will send this Giancarlo guy his money.
I will never speak to my parents or my sister again.
And with any hope, this fucked up situation and any remnants of my old life will be done with forever. Then I can move on. Put everything I have into this new life.
I blow out a shuddered breath. God, never have I needed anything more than I need that to be true.