Chapter 18
eighteen
Normally, I can tell my mother anything.
Which is why, bright and early Sunday morning, I barrel into my parents’ home. Ready to blurt out what news I found out last night. Not just Rowan Greaves’s suicide. But also, and more importantly, that I’m going to be married in a few days.
A few days!
I refuse to be anxious.
Gritting my teeth, I grasp for one thought out of the chaos that is my brain.
It hurts that last night I rushed up to my room to tell Ellis what just happened… Then I remembered she wasn’t there. Same thing this morning. I even pulled out my phone to text her about it.
I still did. So I could pretend she’d answer me.
Me
E, guess what? Apollo Griffin, yes, THE Delta president, is my appointed. And I’m scheduled to MARRY him in the cathedral this week!
E. What do I wear? I have no idea how to do my makeup. Evie will probably do my face, and I’ll end up looking like some goth kid with black eyeshadow. Help me!
Also? He says we have to produce a BABY. A BABY! With his elephant trunk! I told him NO WAY. Do you think the POT will discipline us if we don’t have sex?
…I wish you were here.
“Hey! Thought you had your soccer game today,” Mom says as soon as I step in the door.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I freeze, wondering if somehow Ellis answered me. But when I pull it out, it’s more shocking.
Apollo
Daisies or lilies? Roses? I don’t know what you like and need to tell them.
I shove my phone back into my pocket as Dad grabs me for a side hug. I linger. Just to feel how strong he is. “Padawan.”
“Hey, Dad.”
“What’s wrong?” he asks perceptively. The glint in his blue eyes makes me shiver. He knows too much.
Mom’s face whips to mine. “What’s going on?”
“No, no. Nothing’s up. I just wanted to grab some real food,” I lie, suddenly feeling too vulnerable to say anything. And my heart pounding against my ribs is drowning out any bravery I had mustered up.
If I say it out loud, that makes everything real. Me. Married this Wednesday. To a stranger.
It’s odd. As much as I fear the control my appointed Viscount could have over me, I remember the freedom. The exhilaration of being with Apollo that first night. Something I didn’t think I was capable of feeling.
He rescued me on Thriller Thursday.
But then, there’s the rest of it—the expectations, the talk of babies, following the rules, and everything moving too fast.
I don’t know how to reconcile those two versions of him.
Apollo
Any preference for the filling of the chocolate cake? Cream? Raspberry?
If I ignore it, he’ll stop. Right?
It’s mid-afternoon and my oldest brother, Landon, stumbles down the hallway as if he just woke up. One hand brushes through his long blond locks and the other scratches his six-pack.
“Morning,” he mumbles. His eyes are bloodshot, as usual. Glassy. And unfocused. I know he parties hard with Theta, but I’ve seen him look more not here than normal recently.
“You didn’t stay at the fraternity manor last night?” I ask, picking up a grape and tossing it in my mouth. Mom sets a sandwich in front of me. I can still feel my father’s stare. Observing me as carefully as he does the stars.
“Nah. Crashed here.”
Something in the way he’s not telling me why makes me suspicious. Lan says everything he’s thinking. If he’s not busting out with some story as to why he didn’t stay at Theta Rho Zeta last night, there’s something going on.
“Saw Ayan Dutta the other night. Trying to be a dick again…” Too astutely, Lan changes the subject and gets me to forget about his non-answer.
“Oh? Where?”
He snorts a laugh and takes a huge bite of my turkey and cheese. With a full mouth, he smirks as I swat at his hands when he tries to swipe it again. “In a parking lot. Nose busted.”
At that moment, my youngest brother appears. Clean, sharp, and brightly awake. Spitting image of our father. He slaps a hand on Lan’s shoulder, and his knuckles turn white from how hard he squeezes it. “But we’re not discussing that. Because we weren’t there.”
I whip my head toward Dad to see what he’ll say, but he acts as if nothing just happened and flops down at his desk.
“I don’t need you two to do anything.”
“We didn’t do anything,” Lan says, eyes flat. He smacks a kiss on my cheek and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Love you, sis.”
So now I’m your sister, I want to say. But don’t.
Bo bumps my shoulder with his as he passes on the way toward the front door. That’s as much affection as he’ll show me.
Apollo
Executive decision. Raspberry and cream. Two different layers. Do you want steak, fish, or a veggie plate for the meal?
My head snaps up when my mom speaks.
“Put a shirt on, Landon. It’s after noon,” Mom chides him as she sets down a second sandwich. And a third for my dad. She eyes Bo, who returns from the entryway.
“Someone’s at the door,” he says, eyes wide with concern.
Every cell in my body pauses its function.
“Who?” I ask.
Time stops. My breath is knocked from my lungs, and I audibly grunt with shock when I hear the words in slow motion.
“Holy shit,” Lan says, glancing out the front window. “That’s the president of Delta.”
“Apollo Griffin?” Bo asks, but it’s less a question of his name and more of why he’s here.
I’m wondering the same thing, but a feeling of dread fills my stomach like lead.
Lan grabs a hoodie from the dining room table and tosses it over his head, then strolls toward the door. “Maybe they’re so hard up for money, they’re selling candy door to door.”
If I run now, could I make it out of the garage?
Instead, my body betrays me by just sitting there. At the kitchen island. Frozen. No matter how many deep breaths I will myself to take, somehow, my frontal lobe isn’t overriding my thalamus. I’m locked in. Can’t move.
“Well, well, well…” Lan’s deep voice booms across the room, and I refuse to turn and look behind me as I sense the approaching figures. Including Bo. “Seems like Mr. Apollo Griffin, the Delta president, is here to see Scoutie.”
An even deeper voice clears its throat before speaking. “And to meet you too, Mr. Turner and Dr. Turner.”
“Dr. Turner-Whittemore,” my mom says with a tight grin. “But you can call me Kinsley.” She reaches out her hand after wiping it on a dish towel. “And that’s her father, Mr. Turner.”
Bo leans against the refrigerator, as if monitoring the situation for danger, while Lan has his arm tossed around the shoulders of the man next to him.
When I finally allow myself to look into those soulful deep brown eyes of Apollo, thunder cracks inside my chest.
His gaze is light. The threat behind it isn’t. It’s not of violence, but of something else.
Exposure.
“What can we do for you, Apollo?” My mom carefully glances between me and the guy I’m going to marry.
Dad’s focused on the monitor in front of him. Like he’s refusing to turn around. But I’d bet anything he’s ready to pounce any second.
“I figured Scout told you already.” Apollo’s suit is immaculate. Like he just came from a mafia meeting. He doesn’t belong in my family’s messy kitchen.
He gives me a nod, like I’m supposed to follow his lead. But I’m still not operating at full brain power. Unable to speak. I feel like Dad and Bo right now. Maybe my Turner genes have kicked in, and I’ve gone mute.
“Told us?” Mom encourages, with a wary glance at me.
“About the wedding? This coming Wednesday?”
“What wedding?”
“Mom…” I whisper. But no one hears. Except for my father, whose eyes grow wide as he scans my face. “Dad…”
“We’re, uh, scheduled to be married this week in the Cathedral of the Seven Moons. Scout Lee Turner is my appointed.”
“Y-Your appointed.” Mom’s neck nearly snaps as she stares at me, fury behind her eyes. Likely for not telling her sooner.
Dad’s up out of his seat in the next second, walking oh so very slowly toward the man who just entered.
Landon’s laughing his ass off. So hard, he almost falls over.
And Bo doesn’t move a muscle.
“The Delta president. Oh, this is peak comedy,” Lan’s saying between breaths. “You know we have to kill you, right?” he asks Apollo.
Apollo doesn’t have a chance to respond before my father’s shaking his hand. Not friendly.
“Who are you, Apollo Griffin? Sit down here. Right here. No, not there. Here.” Mom snaps her fingers and points to the stool one away from me. “Let me look at you. And you both together.”
Lan can’t help cackling. Holding his stomach, keeling over.
My fists ball up as I scan the counter for something to throw at his head.
“Lan? You’re done. Out of here. You, too, Bo. Both of you. Go.” Mom directs them toward the garage. “George? George. George.” Each call lands differently. She acts as if my dad’s not standing right behind Apollo. “Sit down. Don’t make him more uncomfortable.”
Dad leans against the counter, facing Apollo and I. He still hasn’t let a word go from his mouth.
“Who are your parents? What do they do? How many siblings? Where are you from? What are your goals?” Mom asks with a death glare.
“Mom!” I beg. “He… We… You knew this was a possibility for me when I entered Greek life. You can’t say no.”
“We can say no. You can always say no.” Mom’s face grows red as she nods at my father.
He crosses his arms.
Apollo’s hand slips through the narrow space between us and settles on my thigh.
Grip solid and reassuring. He gives me a squeeze of containment, and I’m suddenly soaking wet.
I hate it. When I attempt to peel it off, he’s immovable.
But as if sensing I need to be grounded, he gathers up my fist to hold it in his warm, soft palm.
“It’s not a problem. I can answer everything. My parents are Eli and Essa Griffin. They—”
“Griffin Motors?” Dad finally speaks.
Apollo nods. “Yeah, that’s my family.”
“Good place.”
“Is that your plan? To become a mechanic?” Mom bites out, her eyes floating over to mine to monitor my reaction. I just shrug. I know less than they do about him. Other than that he has a giant dick. That’s pierced. And a brother who looks just as hot as him.
And that he smells like safety.
“Uh, well. Yeah.”
“Uh, well? What does that mean?”
“Yes. I’ll do that.” Apollo makes his tone more certain, but it’s obvious he has some hangup about his future plans. That’s…so not good. Not for me.
Not the kind of spouse I would have chosen. I wanted someone driven. Like me.
Dad’s jaw sets until he looks like he could combust. He’s unsure. But he is about everyone he meets.
“And you understand that my Scout will be going to medical school after university, correct? Johns Hopkins or Northview University, if I can convince her to stay here. But she’ll be going. And whomever she’s appointed to must understand that takes priority, right?”
I stare at the side of Apollo’s handsome face. His eyes glance down and over at me under his long lashes. Sweat forms along his brow line. When his jaw tightens, a deep dimple forms in his cheek. “Yes, I understand.”
“Good.” Mom mimics Dad’s posture and crosses her arms, leaning against the counter. The two like an impenetrable force of disapproval.
If things were different, I’d defend the man. But I don’t even know how I feel about him.
The next few minutes are a grueling match. My mother spits out more questions, and Apollo casually answers every one of them honestly. Without embarrassment. And calmly. Like he meets the parents of the stranger he’s going to marry every day.
Dad says nothing.
And I…I can’t even hear what’s happening.
It all seems unreal.
“Can I feed you anything?” Mom asks after a long, torturous silence.
“No. I, uh, came over to collect you, Scout. For dinner.”
“Me?” I ask incredulously.
My stomach drops through my body as he turns to me and says, “Yeah.”
His hand tightens around mine. “Are you ready to meet my parents?”