Chapter 48
chapter
forty-eight
“I thought I was protecting myself. I didn’t realize I was losing everything.” – Cyrus
CYRUS
My eyes pop open as the car bumps along on the rough road. It’s dark, and I have no idea how long I’ve been asleep, but my neck is killing me. Rubbing it, I bring the seat up and look at Haven.
“How long was I out?” I yawn.
“Few hours.”
“A few hours? Where are we?”
“We’re almost there,” she says slyly, not really giving me a response.
“I see…sort of…”
We are moving slowly down a dirt road, surrounded by massive trees. They’re so thick that we may as well be encased in darkness.
The road curves, and I realize that we’re on a wide driveway as a large log home looms ahead. We pull up to the front, and Haven turns off the car. The only light comes from the single fixture beside the front door.
This place seems fancy enough to be a year-round home. I shift to stare at the devious red-headed devil who has abducted me.
“Should I be worried that you have an axe in the trunk? Or do you just want to tie me to a bed?” I smirk. “I won’t complain with option two.”
“Hmm…I’d definitely worry about the axe.”
Haven gets out, closes her door, then moves to the rear to grab what looks like grocery bags.
“Well, come on and help me with this stuff. Once we’re inside, I’ll explain.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
My large duffel bag is in the back seat. I grab it and her bag before following Haven up the front steps. She lifts a potted plant and pulls out a key then unlocks the door.
Haven is all business as she moves through the house, flicking on lights. Her energy is out of control. She’s practically vibrating, and it’s easy to see she is thinking a million miles an hour. Before I know it, she has a pot of coffee brewing and has pulled steaks from the fridge.
“Okay…do you mind explaining now? This seems like an odd time, in the middle of a tour, to go glamping.”
“This is not glamping. You glamp in that tour bus you dare to call roughing it. This is a…cottage. We are cottagers.”
I grab her arm and pull her into me so she can’t escape.
“Okay, smart ass, so we are cottagers. The rest of the question remains. What’s going on?”
“I want coffee first.”
“Fine.” I let her go.
“You want one?”
“Sure. Thanks.”
Leaning against the counter, I realize that this is exactly what I want. I desire nothing more than to watch Haven make coffee every day for the rest of my life. What I once loathed, I now crave. She has fucked with my head and heart, and I’ll never get them back.
Haven hands me a cup and then takes a sip of her own before leading me into the living room. Large windows overlook a body of water. The moon is shining so brightly on the surface that it looks like it’s dancing.
As we sit on the brown leather couch, I cup her cheek and run my thumb over her skin.
“Before you say anything…I just need to tell you that I was really scared they weren’t going to let me out.”
“We wouldn’t let that happen,” she says calmly. But I see the flames in her eyes. “I’ve already landed in jail once this week, what’s a second time for breaking you out?”
“That’s a great headline.”
Haven sits back, and my hand falls away.
“Look before we get into anything else. I need to tell you that I’m pissed off. No, I’m more than pissed, I’m livid. I’m set you on fire and laugh kind of angry.”
“Well, that’s certainly an image. So, I really do need to be wary of sharp objects.”
Haven stands and walks over to the electric fireplace, turning it on as if to emphasize her point. She glares at me, arms crossed, daring me to say something stupid. Of course, that only makes me want to mouth off more, but I behave.
“I’m serious, Cy. No fucking games, no laughing at me. I’m….” Haven runs her hand through her hair. “I’m really fucking hurt.”
I slowly stand and set my mug down.
“Okay…why?”
“You don’t know this because your mother is a cartoon loon of destruction and locked you up because she wasn’t getting enough attention. But…our little sexcapade in the jail was leaked.”
Before I can even contemplate if it’s a dumb idea, I smirk at Haven.
Her eyes harden as she grabs a decorative duck off the mantle.
“Whoa…sorry. I’ll be good.”
“You better, or I’ll grab a poker and stab you instead.”
I glance at the glass-enclosed fire.
“There is no poker.”
With a roar, Haven whips the carving at me. I barely manage to catch it before it hits me square in the chest.
“Ow…you have an arm. Death by duck, not how I want to go out.”
Haven balls her hands, and I slowly set down the projectile.
“You know me, I can’t help but be a smartass.”
“Fucking try, because it’s not funny. My bare ass is everywhere. I’m a fucking meme in multiple languages. I thought Patrick’s birthday was the worst thing you could ever do to me, but I was wrong. You have no idea what this feels like.”
She stomps back and forth in front of the fireplace, casting her angry shadow against the wall. Speaking won’t help the situation, so I keep quiet for now.
“The laughs, the jeers, the comments from people about being a slut. Someone left a note on the tour bus calling me disgusting for sleeping with my brother and that I’m going to burn in hell. We aren’t even related!”
Haven wheels on me, pointing.
“I was featured on the Night Show. The fucking Night Show. That is not how I ever wanted to end up on national television. I’m a laughingstock, Cy.
No one says a fucking bad word about you.
No, never you. Instead, all your comments are flattering.
He got her good. Look at him go. No wonder she has that look on her face.
Typical Cyrus Vale, gotta love him. He’s so hot. Fuck you!”
She is breaking, and I can’t stay away. I walk over and tilt her chin up. She is so stubborn. Even with unshed tears glimmering in her eyes, she refuses to show weakness.
“Is the recording how you bribed the officer at the jail?”
“What?”
“Did you use my ultimate humiliation to prove that you can do whatever the fuck you want to me?”
“Are you serious?” Anger simmers under the surface of my skin, and I take a step back. “Do you really fucking think I’d do that?”
She lifts her hands in the air, obviously exasperated.
“Honestly…yes, it’s crossed my mind. It’s the same shit you used to pull on me.”
“Haven, for fuck’s sake. I’m not that guy anymore.”
Hands on her hips, her eyes bore into me like she is trying to burn a hole through my soul.
“Don’t you dare act offended, Cy. Apologizing for being a dick your whole life and then fucking me in a cell beside an old man while officers watch like it’s their own private porn show doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence that you’ve changed.”
I grab her by the arms and force her back. She bumps up against the wall with a little thud.
“Haven, that is the very reason why you shouldn’t ask me.”
Her brows pull together in confusion.
“Don’t you get it? I couldn’t give two fucks who is around when I claim you as mine, but...” I drop my forehead to hers. “No, I wouldn’t offer a sex tape of us as payment. That’s shady as fuck.”
She sighs loudly in the silence that follows, and I can tell that she wants to believe me.
“Then what did you give him? I need to know.”
“Front row seats and backstage passes for him and his wife for any concert of their choosing.” My voice drops. “I’m sorry that all of this is happening. But I can’t deny the happiness I feel that everyone knows you’re mine.”
Haven’s shoulders slump, and she closes her eyes. Her pouty lips are far too inviting, and I can’t resist. She doesn’t kiss me back right away, so I nip at her until she opens. Fuck she tastes good.
“It kills me that you feel you had to ask that question.”
I pull back, and her gaze searches my face.
“I’ll find out who leaked it and bury them alive. That’s a promise,” I growl.
“A portable lie detector would be so convenient right now.”
“Haven, you’ve always seen me. Better than anyone else…do I look like I’m lying to you?”
She shakes her head.
“No, but I’m not exactly a great judge of anything anymore. I thought I was, but…my life is a giant dumpster fire at the moment.”
A chuckle rumbles from my chest.
“Join the club. Who the fuck cares what those people think? They aren’t us. They don’t live our lives or dictate what we do or who we love. Besides, I think it’s hot and a little kinky that we’re stepsiblings.”
Haven rolls her eyes.
“You would.”
“You’re right, I do. The point is, who the fuck are these random people to us? They’re jealous and spiteful. They will think and say whatever they want, no matter what we do. So just…let them.”
“That’s easy for you to say.”
“No. No it’s not. Do you think it’s easy when I get called a failure or a copycat?
When critics say I’m not original, washed up, or a wannabe rockstar who never should’ve made it?
The best is when they mention that I’m losing my mind, that I’m a junkie, an addict, that I’m encouraging kids to kill one another, you name it, I’ve had it said about me. ”
“You’re none of those things.”
“That’s my point. People have always made up stories to fit their narrative. Last year, I was ordering Russian brides out of a catalog. Six months ago I was secretly working for the mafia and then suddenly I’m gay and in a three-way with Vex and Ledger.”
Her lips curl up as she tries not to laugh.
“Don’t even bother picturing that, it’s never happening,” I say, and she can’t hold back. It’s the most adorable sound. “Just give them the middle finger.”
She slowly nods.
“Okay…I had to be sure. I may have actually murdered you. A girl can only take so much. Then she goes postal and cuts a guy’s dick off before feeding him to wildlife.”
“You’re fucked up, Haven. But it’s what I’ve always loved about you.”
Smiling, I guide her back to the couch. We sit there in comfortable silence, something we’ve never done before.
But when Haven clears her throat, I know something big is coming.
“I need to ask you something else,” she says softly, almost as if she doesn’t want to, and that makes me more nervous than if she just asked the question.
“Your mother said something to me. I didn’t believe it at the time and thought she was just trying to get under my skin. But the more I think about it, the more I wonder if there is legitimacy to it.”
She settles deeper into the couch, not taking her eyes off her coffee mug.
“Knowing my mother, there isn’t. But what did she say?”
“Anita said that her affair with my father started before my mother died.”
My heart stills. Haven’s eyes meet mine, and it feels as if she is reaching into my chest and squeezing.
I don’t say anything.
Haven nods and looks away, then stands up and crosses the room to stare out the window.
Fuck.
“And you knew?”
“Yeah, I knew.”
The tears running down her face are reflected in the glass. Leave it to my mother to go for the jugular. She is a sadist, and I can’t help wondering if my father is rolling in his grave watching the shit she pulls.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Lots of reasons. The main one is that despite being an asshole…I couldn’t bring myself to tell you. I knew what it would do to you. I know how much you love your father, and I just couldn’t. Your mother was dead and telling you was only going to make it worse.”
Haven’s shoulders round forward, and she covers her eyes as she cries.
My heart breaks for her. She has always held her father up on a pedestal, thinks he is the greatest and most honorable man.
She even believed it after he married my mother and turned our house into a fucked version of Cinderella.
I’ve crossed many lines torturing Haven, but I just haven’t been able to shatter the illusion she has of her father.
Pushing myself up, I approach her cautiously. When she doesn’t flinch away, I wrap my arms around her and hold her tight. Haven’s body trembles while she sobs.
“I should’ve known,” she says and then cries harder. “It was only like two months from the time my mother passed away to him marrying Anita. I should’ve known that the story of meeting her on a trip was bullshit.”
I turn Haven so she is facing me, and even with her eyes red and swollen, she is stunning. Running my finger up her cheek, I gather her tears before licking them off.
“Look at me,” I say, forcing her gaze up. “Don’t cry over them. What they did doesn’t touch you. Not one fucking piece of you.”
“But—”
“No. You were a child grieving your mother, and you loved your father. You saw what you needed to see. What they did was shameful, but it’s not your burden to bear.”
“But you knew,” she says.
“I only knew because I suspected she was cheating before she told my father. I stole her phone and searched it. Don’t blame yourself for loving a man who pretended to protect his family and betrayed it instead.”
Dropping my lips to hers, I kiss away the saltiness of her grief and hold her tighter.
“Your tears are mine now, Butterfly,” I whisper, my voice raspy with the dark desires thrumming through my body.
Her eyes are a torrent of emotion as she stifles a bitter little sound.
“I think they always were.”