Chapter 10 | No Strings Attached
Jude
W hen you are born into the Rhodes family, you learn there are certain standards that need to be upheld. Most of them have to do with how you appear to the world because it’s important that we come across as powerful and in charge.
Edie Rhodes’ biggest issue with me is that she doesn’t believe I honor these family requirements. It's particularly frustrating for her since my name was inspired by hers. We both have older names that we’ve modernized. In a way, that makes me her namesake. As a child, I know she doted on me, dressing us up exactly the same and telling everyone how similar we were, how I’d grow up and take after her…But I couldn’t be more different.
So that’s why, standing in front of my dresser mirror now, I wonder if this is the moment where Edie Rhodes will finally be proud of me. Because I barely recognise the Druid staring back at me. I didn’t know grandma because she died before I was born. But from what Beau told me, grandma was really hard on Mom, and she expected nothing but perfection from her. It's why Mom is so hard on us. And it's why she keeps lashing out at me. I can only imagine I’m a disappointment of a daughter to her.
Smoothing the sheer black blouse into the waistband of my black slacks, I tuck a stray strand of hair into my chignon, making sure everything is in place and looks perfect. Today, I can give Edie Rhodes her wish. Even if I have to wonder when did looking the part become more important than grieving a lost one?
It doesn’t help that I barely slept last night. I was having nightmares about Lexie’s body and how the same would happen to Brooklyn if I left again. I don’t need a professional to tell me what it means. My eye catches on a picture of Lexie, Brooklyn, and me from a few years ago on my makeup stand. It's from just before I left, and it was just some random day. Lexie looks so vibrant with her brunette waves blowing in the wind behind her. My hand is covering my face partially, and Brooklyn is laughing. I can’t even remember what about, or why someone had snapped the picture. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but now it's one of the last moments we had all together. When we were whole.
Hearing a polite knock at the door, I turn to find Beau peering inside my room with a concerned look on his face. He’s a large man, which is typical with Druids, and I’ve only ever known him to wear suits to work. He’s still wearing one now, but it's different. More luxurious and fitted. It's how I know he’s getting ready to bury Lexie, too.
He clears his throat. “How are you holding up, child?”
He’s the first person who’s asked. At times, I wonder if he’s the only person who actually cares about me, and a stinging sensation pricks my eyes. I want to cry, but it seems out of place with this image we need to project today. So picking a safe change of subject, I motion to my bedroom walls.
“Well,” I start, “If I’m going to be at home permanently, we need to redecorate my room along with the study. I would prefer to get my own place, but it sends the wrong message for our family, so redecorating will have to do. I love all the space in here, but it's the white, bland feel that's getting to me.”
Beau’s graying eyebrows crease as he reaches over and fixes a stray hair I missed. He looks sad, almost defeated. “It’s okay Ms. Jude. You don’t have to be strong for me. I miss her too.”
I swallow a lump in my throat. He knows me too well. He’s right. I’m trying to be strong for everyone else, for the image I need to uphold, and for him, too. Because I just assumed he needed that. He seems to pick up on my inner turmoil.
“You know I see you as one of my own, Ms. Jude. Don’t forget that. But okay, I will make a note to get some options together for you.” He says, resigned and moving to turn away.
Instead, I launch myself at him. Beau rubs my back in soothing circles as I hug him, and I instantly feel stronger. It's hard to define our relationship. He’s not exactly a brother, but he's not a father either. He’s definitely family, though. I’ve always asked him about his biological family, and his answer is always that he has none, and that we’re his family.
It's why I fought Dad the way I did when he first said Beau couldn’t come today. How was that even up for debate? He loved Lexie too and deserves to mourn her with us. We settled on Beau coming, but he would sit somewhere else in the church and not with the family. Dad loves Beau too, in his own way. He’s just more concerned with the superiority of the Rhodes bloodline, even if Beau is a Druid like us, too.
Speaking of family, I need to go see where mine are and round them up. This funeral is about so much more than just burying Lexie today. The other empires will assess our strength and if there is an opportunity to take over. It's what we would do if the roles were reversed. While I don’t care about power, I will make sure my family survives. Lexie would have wanted that. She was so good at keeping us together. When I asked to leave, she was the one that convinced Dad to let me go. She assured him that our empire wouldn’t suffer because of it. Lexie always had a solution and took control of the situation. It's never been me, but today it has to be. The same family that I keep running from is the one I’m now trying to keep together.
At the last moment, I decide to add a burgundy lipstick to my outfit before I grab the heels by my bedroom door. All our bedrooms are on the second floor of our estate. The living areas are on the ground floor, and then we have a sundeck on the third floor. It seems like nothing has changed since I left. I start with checking on Brooklyn, seeing as her room is closest to mine.
Standing outside her door, I brace myself. We’ve been fighting nonstop since I got home, as if she blames me for Lexie’s death, for leaving. But that's fine. I can take it. Peeking my head into her room, I see things have changed. When I left, it was still very pink. Now, it's more blue-gray and very fluffy. Where Lexie and I are darker and take more after our father, Brooklyn looks more like our mother with her finer features and blonde hair, but she has the build of our father. She got the best of both of them. She’s dressed for the funeral in a black dress, but she’s struggling with a necklace .
“Here, let me help you.” I go over to her, and for once she doesn’t argue with me as I take the clasps away from her and move her hair out of the way so it doesn’t get caught. We say nothing for a moment before Brooklyn breaks the silence.
Her voice is hoarse. “Lexie gave it to me a few months ago. She called it an early assignment graduation gift. I knew I had to wear it today.” Turning Brooklyn to face the mirror, with a sad smile on my face, I respond, “It's beautiful.”
Pausing for a moment, I then ask what I’ve been dreading, “Are you ready to leave?” Just like that, I ruin the moment between us, and she lashes out again. She shoves me away, stronger than she looks, and screams, “What a stupid question! Who’s ever ready to bury a sister that was brutally murdered?!”
I flinch. It's not like I need reminding. So much for making up for our fight and uniting today. Maybe this is our new normal now. Brooklyn storms out of her room, I assume, to the car, and I follow her and bump into my mother along the way.
Oh, Druids. She’s wearing a black lace veil that covers her face like the Italian movie stars used to. With matching lace gloves and a black lace dress, she’s being extra dramatic, even by her standards. At least she’s ready. Edie Rhodes is going to make today all about her. I don’t know why I expected more, even if we’re all mourning Lexie. She hasn’t been a mother to me in years, so I don’t know why I thought today would be different. She barely even looks at me as she huffs, “I’ll see you in the car. Your father needed a moment.”
Ignoring her, I walk past her and into my parents’ room. It's just as luxurious as I remember, with all the cream finishes and high ceilings, more like something for a catalog than a place anyone actually sleeps in. They have a separate dressing room, bathroom, and eventually, their actual bedroom, which has a balcony that overlooks our estate. I find Dad sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands. Eric Rhodes still cuts an imposing figure with his attractive looks, and he looks good in his suit.
Taking a moment to observe him, I try to put my finger on it. At the wedding, he seemed indifferent about Lexie’s murder, but since we’ve been home, he’s been nothing but angry. And now, he seems devastated, and I don’t know how to deal with that. It makes me wonder if there is hope for us. Even if hope is dangerous because it means he can disappoint me again.
I don’t think he’s even noticed me entering, so I clear my throat. “Dad? We’re going to be late if we don’t go soon.”
Looking up at me, I can see he’s been crying, and it seems like he’s aged drastically in such a short time. Having your daughter murdered will do that to you, I guess. We don’t have time to deal with this now. We just need to get through today first.
Is this what he was doing for us this whole time?
When he speaks, he even sounds older. “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I love you girls. It shouldn’t be Lexie we’re burying today. It should be me.”
Where has this side of Dad been the whole time? As much as I would love to have a heart to heart with him and clear the air, we’re going to be late, and I know he will hate that more. Bending down until I’m at his eye level, I urge him along.
“Dad, I don’t want to rush you, but we’re going to be late. I need you to go wash your face, straighten your tie, and pretend for me today. Once it’s done, we can continue this chat if you want to. I would like that. ”
Nodding, he gets up and does as he’s told, like he needs someone to take control, and I wait for him to finish. Grabbing his suit jacket, I follow him out the door. Walking down the staircase, towards the front door, my ears pick up a news report from one of the TVs that were left on. Something about an increase of unexplained murders and vandalism. Turning to look at Dad, I raise my eyebrow at him. He shrugs, sounding a little more like his usual self, at least. “That wasn’t me. After yesterday, I stopped trying to find Lexie’s murderer. You were right. We need a better strategy.”
Trying my best to sound soothing yet stern, I say, “I’m glad you can agree. You’ve fought so long for this family to stay together, so let's not ruin it by acting irrationally. After the funeral, let’s go visit Dom and find out if there is a spell he can do for us that might help us figure this out.”
Accepting that, Dad turns, and we exit the house together. It’s an overcast day, and I am relieved I have kept the whole ceremony inside. Except, I stop walking when we get to the car because Sebastian is waiting outside for me, and I’m confused.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
He seems sincere as he explains, “I wanted to be here for you today. No strings attached.” Even with his declaration that he broke my heart to protect me, it’s too late. There is always a string attached with him. But if I make a big deal of sending him away, and Dad hears that the Rogue’s threatened my life, it will cause more drama and I want to avoid that today.
Inspecting his dashing outfit, I tell him, “I forgot to ask, what’s up with the tattoos? Those are new.” Even in his suit, some of them peek out of his neck, and I can see some on his hands. With a small grin on his face, he tells me, “It's a long story for another day.”
Accepting his presence, he leans over and kisses me on the forehead before he gets into the car with us. Today is not the day to deal with Alyssa. But I will when the time is right. As we drive away, I can’t help thinking about my past with Sebastian. He’s taught me we all want to be loved unconditionally, and if we lose that love, we will do terrible things to get it back. No matter the cost.