Chapter 39
ELLA
I must admit, it’s pretty hot.
Knowing that my scent is trapped all over him right now.
First of all, I can’t believe I actually did that. Second of all, the bitches all over this room staring at my man like cats in heat better take notice.
I watch him from across the dining room. We came in here to get some food and he got stuck chatting with an alumni who actually owns several car dealerships in town. They’re talking about muscle cars. He catches my eye and winks.
“There she is.”
I turn, smiling, happy to put the face with the voice. “Ridge! What are you doing here?”
Ridge wraps me in a hug. I forgot he likes to hug too. And he’s definitely gotten better at them. I haven’t seen him in a couple of months, and you can tell he’s grown taller, more muscular. He’s probably the same height as Holt now, maybe an inch shorter.
He nods back at the kitchen. “Making some extra money. Dad’s the caterer on this one.”
“I should’ve known. Look how good the food looks. I’ve been trying to get in here all day to eat.”
He replaces a plate of freshly cut cheese and fruit. “Been stuck doing the small-talk thing, huh?”
“Yes, and it’s driving me crazy.” I peer past him, looking into the kitchen where constant food prep is still going on. “Is Holt working this too? He didn’t call or text me.”
“No, he was afraid he’d run into Delaney.”
I chuckle. “Smart move.”
Delaney is a very snobby sophomore at my school. She’s one of the girls who fawned all over Holt when she first saw him. He made the mistake of taking her out on a couple of dates. One too many dates.
I believe Holt’s exact words were, ‘Money don’t take the crazy out of people’.
I think my own parents are a testament to that.
I study Ridge’s handsome face, his strong jaw. He’s really turning into a heartbreaker. He has always played second fiddle to Holt, but he’s finally coming into his own. Shining his own star. I take a quick glance around the room and notice more than one set of eyes watching Ridge’s every move as we speak. “Hey, you know to avoid all the girls at my school, right?”
He rolls his eyes. “Yes, Mom. I’ve been duly warned.”
Ry catches me off guard, snaking his arm around my waist, possessively holding me next to him.
Hello pot, meet kettle.
His obvious jealousy makes me want to laugh. I best put an end to his torture. “Ryland, this is Ridge. Ridge is Holt’s best friend. Ridge and his family live next door to Uncle Ray and Aunt Teresa. We all grew up together. And Ridge’s dad is the best chef I’ve ever met.” I wave my hand at all the food spread across the table. “Ridge, this is Ryland, my boyfriend.”
“Yeah, Holt told me you had a guy. Nice to finally meet you.” Ridge furrows his brow. “For some reason, I thought your name was something different.”
“You can call me Crutch. Everyone does. It’s a pleasure to meet you too. And the food looks great. Please give my compliments to your dad.”
A soft whistle travels through the dining room. “That’s my cue. I’ll see you guys later.”
Ridge heads back into the kitchen, leaving Ry confused.
“Their whole family does it. It started when the boys were little and Ridge would be over playing in the backyard with Holt. His dad hated to always scream for Ridge to come home so he started whistling. They do it now for everything. If they’re in the store and can’t find one another, they just walk through the aisles whistling.”
“Hmm. Effective.”
I tug on his shirt. “I’m starving. Let’s get some food.”
We’re filling our plates when Ry knocks me with his elbow. “What’s that?” He nods to the wall above the antique sideboard.
“I have no idea.” It’s obviously a framed portrait. A huge framed portrait. But it’s covered in black velvet; you can’t see what’s underneath. “I guess a portrait based on the size.”
“Like a family portrait?”
“Not a family portrait. Unless they photoshopped me in. Maybe it’s dear old Mom and Dad. Riding white stallions, down streets of gold.”
He chuckles. “Could be worth something one day. Like a Monet, maybe.”
After we eat, we escape out to the pool. Most people from outside have made their way back inside for booze or food, and it gives us a little breathing room. It’s also here that we see my father, whispering in a corner next to the waterfall with Addison. She’s not very happy. She’s probably upset that some of his other sexual conquests are here.
I guess that’s the recurring theme for the day.
Except I don’t see my mom and dad fighting for one another the way Ry and I always do. We will always fight to make it back to each other.
Ry clears his throat, making our presence known. Dad and Addison quickly change their behavior, trying to appear nothing more than professional. They should really take cues from Mom. She’s a much better actor than either of them. Smiling, Addison circles around us, nodding and giving me a quick compliment on my dress.
“There’s my darling daughter.” He leans in, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek. “Addison was just telling me about some surgery additions for the upcoming week.” He holds his hands up in the air, wiggling his fingers. “Everybody needs the good doctor.” He laughs at his own joke.
Neither of us laugh with him. “Dad, I’d like for you to meet Ryland Crutchfield. Ryland, this is my father, Robert Hill.”
Dad tsks me, quickly making the needed correction. “Dr. Robert Hill. Nice to meet you.”
Ry politely shakes my father’s hand. I watch as the muscle in his jaw twitches. “Pleasure is all mine, sir.”
“So, what year did you graduate North and Camden? Are you related to Andrew Crutchfield who owns the newspaper?”
“No, Dad. Ryland is my boyfriend. Remember?”
“The mechanic.” The shock makes his voice falter off key. He sounds like a screeching girl.
Good to see my father is filtering his comments for my benefit. I nervously fiddle with the side of my dress. Without looking, Ry reaches over and grabs my twittering fingers, wrapping them in his firm grasp. My father glances down, watching in stunned silence as we hold hands.
“Yes, sir. I work at Harlan’s Garage and Automotive. If you ever need any work done, we’re the best in the county. I’m also about to graduate from the community college.”
My dad sniffles. “That’s right, community college. And what are your plans after that? Ella will be attending the University of Virginia.”
Ry glances at me, smiling. “Yes, I’ve seen some of her drawings. You should be very proud. I’m not sure what my plans are yet, sir. However, I have a feeling a lot of weekend road trips to Virginia will be in my future.”
Not only does that statement warm my heart, but it makes my dad shit a golden brick. Which I totally love.
One of these days I’m gonna have to break down and tell Ry—and my dad— that my plans have recently changed.
“Robert! Susan is looking for you.” Phillip, Kristie’s dad, joins us, his signature tumbler of whiskey in his hand. After my father excuses himself, I introduce Phillip and Ry.
Phillip is at least a better actor than Dad. I’d say he’s par on target with Mom. He smiles at Ry, but his eyes are beady and hard. He looks at Ry likes he’s a thief, about to make a getaway with the family silver. “So, tell me how you two met. There has to be some type of story there.”
I shake my head, deciding to give a little more sanitized version of the truth. The story of meeting in the coffeehouse is just lame. “No story, really. I went out to visit that gas station that Carrie went to a few times before she went missing. Remember, the detectives went to all the places Carrie went in the months leading up to her disappearance?” Phillip nods, swallowing down the warm brown liquor. “Well, Ryland works at the body shop right across the parking lot from the gas station. Us meeting was just happenstance, really.”
Phillip nods, paying special attention to the closeness of our bodies. His stare is so intense, it actually weirds me out a little bit.
He shakes his glass back and forth. “Well, that is definitely interesting. And did you know Carrie, Ryland?”
I’m taken aback by the look on his face. He looks angry and annoyed. No wonder Kristie never dates. My parents are rude, but Phillip is just plain scary.
Fortunately, Ry and I are saved from this odd torment. A waiter steps out onto the patio, ringing a water glass, calling us all inside the dining room. The hosts—aka my parents—are assembling everyone for a small speech. Same as they do every single year. Anything to stand in the spotlight for even the briefest moment. It takes several minutes for everyone to filter in, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by me that Phillip and Kristie seem to be exchanging harsh words over in the corner. I did see her flirting with some of the college guys earlier. I’m sure that went over as well as a vegetarian at a slaughterhouse.
Dad clears his throat. “Thank you all for coming. Another year has come and gone. It’s so hard to believe. None of this would be possible without the hard work of my lovely wife. Susan,” Dad holds his arms open wide, “come over here, darling.”
Feigning modesty while the crowd politely claps, Mom shoos Dad away. Finally, laughing and forcing a blush to her face, she races to his side. “Robert,” she pats his chest, “don’t embarrass me.”
He fake laughs. “Never. Never.” Everyone else in the room fake laughs too. What the famous doctor does, everyone does.
“We are all so proud to be a part of the North and Camden Academy legacy. And what better way to leave a lasting mark on the world than through charity work. Giving the gift of time, kindness, love, and… money.” Everyone claps and chuckles. Dad points at some old guy in the corner. “That’s right, John. Don’t think you can drink the champagne and eat the beef tenderloin without pulling out your checkbook before you leave.” John smiles and nods, toasting Dad with his champagne flute.
“The North and Camden Academy Charitable Fund has done so many amazing things throughout the years. But I don’t think anything has been as special to my heart as the work the charity will be doing in the months to come, work spearheaded by one of the loves of my life.” Dad holds his hand out in my direction. “Ella, sweetheart, come and join your old, sentimental parents.”
I wanna strangle him. He knows I hate to be in front of a large crowd like this. He barely showed any interest at all in the graduation charity trip. I did all of the research, all of the planning, and presented it to the student council and the charity foundation board all by myself. Now he wants to take credit. All because it serves the current agenda in front of him.
Not knowing what I’ll do, Ry gently places his hand on the small of my back, providing silent encouragement, letting me know he’s got my back. That whatever I do, he’ll stand behind me.
What choice do I have?
Squaring my shoulders, stiffening my spine, and folding my hands in front of me, I join my parents at the front of the room.
“I don’t think it’s news to anyone that personal tragedy has overwhelmed our family this year.” My father twitches his nose, and my mother dabs the corner of her eye, wiping away non-existent tears. Whispers of condolence and sympathy travel through the crowd. “But even in the hardest of times, human resilience and strength can triumph. Turning the darkest devastations into the smallest iota of hope—of devoted sacrifice—is what makes us all grow as people. Grow as a community. Grow as a foundation for our future generations.
“We all know that annual tuition was set at $40,000 at the last fiscal meeting. I think we, in this room, can all consider ourselves lucky for having the resources and ability to provide the very best education to those we love. Our daughter’s passion for sharing love with everyone around her is what led to this momentous occasion. Susan and I would like to officially announce our donation to the North and Camden Academy Charitable Fund to establish…” he pauses for dramatic effect, “the Caroline Hill Memorial Scholarship for the Underprivileged!”
And with a flourish, Mom pulls the black velvet from the large portrait on the wall.
What. The. Hell.
Admiring gasps and loud applause threaten to clog my eardrums. My mouth falls open as I study the larger-than-life portrait. It’s a black and white painting of Carrie outside by the pool. Dressed in a short cocktail dress, the picture captures the radiant glow of my sister as she laughs. Perfectly painted lips pull across her brilliantly white smile. Perfectly styled blonde hair sways gently in the breeze. Perfectly manicured nails reach up, fondling the diamond pendant dangling from her neck.
She’s laughing at a story Uncle Ray told us. How do I know? Because I’m standing right beside her, laughing myself. But I’ve been cropped out of the picture. I know the picture well. Holt took it. My parents weren’t even here at the time. Carrie wanted to have a nice family dinner for Caleb’s birthday. His parents came into town. Uncle Ray and Aunt Teresa came over. Uncle Ray grilled steaks. Aunt Teresa, me, Carrie, and Raylee cooked all the side dishes. My parents were at a medical conference somewhere. San Francisco, maybe? After Carrie went missing, Holt posted the picture to his social media accounts.
I don’t care that I was cropped out of the picture. I don’t care that my father didn’t congratulate me or express accolades regarding my work on getting the graduation charity trip set up. I don’t even really care that he’s giving money to a scholarship fund so more kids can go to my school and become spoiled, entitled assholes.
What bothers me is that word. Memorial.
Do I think my sister is dead? Yes. Yes, I do. But I would never say that out loud to a room full of strangers.
To have my ignorant, self-absorbed parents stand up here and basically announce her death to everyone—and wrap it up in a pretty money bow—in their exclusive circle of rich pricks? That’s a whole new low.
My father taps his hand in the air, asking the crowd to lower their volume. “To support the dreams of our daughter, Caroline, we have decided to pave the way for three bright young youths who might not have the opportunity to thrive without our support. Three scholarships for three young minds for the full four-year high school education. Susan and I are donating $480,000.” My father bows, acting as if he is overcome with emotion. “Excuse me, our sweet Carrie is donating $480,000. To Carrie!” He raises his glass high in the air. Everyone else in the room does the same.
And then my father downs his drink. I focus on the glass, my vision blurring. Vodka and cranberry juice, maybe? Dad likes that drink.
People immediately begin to flock around Mom and Dad, and even me, showering us with compliments. Congratulating us on our generosity. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I want to scream. I wanna scream at the top of my lungs. What’s wrong with these people!
Suddenly, I’m being pulled from the crowd. It’s such a whirlwind, I don’t even know what’s happening to me. I’m having chest pains. Nausea. Dizziness. An out-of-body experience.
Am I too young for a heart attack?
Oh no, am I about to have another panic attack? Like the night on the cruise when Carrie went missing? Please, no. I rub my sternum, checking for a heartbeat.
Before I realize it, I’m standing in the middle of my living room in my wing of the house. Far away from everyone else. Is that Ry talking to me?
I blink several times, trying to focus. Ry grabs both sides of my face. Bending close, he forces me to look into his eyes. His voice is firm. A constant calm in my storm. “Tell me what you want.”
“I wanna go home. Take me home.”
Scooping me into his arms, his hand grazes my bare ass. Loading me in the car, he drives me home.
Taking me from the mansion to our tent in the woods.
With him.
He’s my home.