Текст книги "Betrayal "

Автор книги: Aleatha Romig

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

DREAMS, LIKE FAIRYTALES, all come to an end. We wake or turn that final page. There’s no escaping it. It may take days, years, or an entire lifetime, but forever doesn’t truly exist. No matter how hard we wish or try, the end always comes.

Nox’s and my final day, the last day of my vacation, arrived. Though we’d both awakened early, we’d been granted a short reprieve when Nox successfully lulled me back to sleep. With the sun barely up, I’d drifted away in a sweet cloud of musk, wrapped in the arms of the man I barely knew.

I didn’t know his last name, where he lived, or what he did, but I knew that in the six days and five nights we’d been together, I’d lost my heart to him. I didn’t know if he’d stolen it or if I’d given it. I even tried to convince myself that it wasn’t the entire thing… that it was only a piece of my heart that he now possessed. If that were true, it meant that I would survive. If it were only a piece and even if what I still had within me was broken, I stood a chance of repair. One day I might find the magic we shared. Someday when Alex was ready, when she wasn’t about to concentrate on law school, she could discover what I would soon be leaving.

It was a good tale, a story of fabrication, and one I knew was a lie. The pain within me from the moment we woke was too intense. The evidence pointed to one conclusion: Nox hadn’t taken a piece of my heart. He had the entire thing. Repair would never come. It wasn’t possible to repair what no longer existed.

With each breath, the void of my missing heart ached in my chest.

Though I needed to pack my things and Chelsea and I needed to get to the airport, I wasn’t rushing. Instead, I was sitting across the small table on the balcony of the presidential suite, sipping coffee and moving eggs and fruit around my plate. Our time together was ticking away. The figurative clock would soon strike midnight. If this were Cinderella, I’d be running down the steps and leaving my glass slipper.

For the first time since we’d met, our sentences felt forced—polite and proper. There were so many things we hadn’t said, so many things we wanted to say, but now it was too late. When we were showering, Nox joked about my missing my flight, but other than that, we’d avoided the subject.

“Nox,” I said, debating with myself if I could be at least partially honest. “I know our agreement, and I still believe we should honor it. But there’s something I want you to know.”

His pale eyes looked up from his barely-eaten breakfast. Apparently neither of us had an appetite. “What?”

“I guess I want you to know that this week wasn’t me.”

Putting his fork down, he asked, “What do you mean? You’re not Charli?”

I didn’t want to go there. “I mean that I’ve never before done what we’ve done. I want you to know that I don’t go around meeting men and doing what we did.”

His grin quirked. “You want me to know you don’t sleep around.”

I nodded. Why would he believe me? I let him fuck me in a public bathroom. I asked for it—for his cock. That didn’t sound like someone with standards. “It’s just that… well, I’m sure you have met… other women… had more opportunity…”

“Charli,” he reached across the table and laid his hand down, palm up.

A tear escaped my eye as I placed my hand in his.

His surrounded mine with a squeeze. “I believe you.”

I forced a smile.

“No matter how experienced you think I am or how many women there have been, I’m not what you think. I don’t do this either. I’ve told you—I have unique tastes, and honestly, they don’t bode well for most relationships. I have sources that keep me satisfied, but that’s not the same thing. I haven’t even tried to be in a relationship for quite awhile.”

I looked at him through my lashes. On his face I saw the sincerity mirrored in his words.

“There was something about you,” he went on, “about us, that was different—different than anything I’ve ever experienced. I was drawn to you that morning at the pool. There was—no, is—electricity that surrounds us like I’ve never known.”

The void in my chest gaped open. It was so painful I feared looking down. If I did, I was sure I’d see bloody shreds of vessels and flesh where my heart had been. Nox felt what I felt. It wasn’t just me. We had a connection and soon it would be over.

“I-I wish,” I said through ragged breaths, “I wish this were another time and place. I wish this were longer than a week. I wish I could, but I can’t.”

He squeezed my hand again. “I’m not asking—not because I don’t want that. I do. I’m not asking because we both went into this with the same expectations. Believe me, I’ve been racking my brain for ways to make you stay, for me to stay.” He looked around, taking in the balcony and the ocean beyond. His cheeks rose as he said, “I don’t really live here. I also have a life to return to.”

My eyes darted to his when he said life.

“Life, Charli, not wife. I didn’t lie. Both of us have lives. Maybe one day, if it’s meant to be, they’ll intersect. In the meantime, we’ll always have Del Mar and 101.” He added the last part with the menacing grin that made my tummy do somersaults.

Nox stood and lifted my hand. When I rose, he pulled me into his arms and our lips met. I wanted to stay in his embrace forever. His kiss was tender and giving. The urgency we’d had over the past week had been replaced by a need to share what little of ourselves we could. His lips and tongue tasted like coffee. I knew that every time I drank a cup, I’d remember Nox. I’d also remember the way we fit together. Whenever I was chilled, I’d recall the warmth of his solid body against mine. That memory would become my blanket as I resumed my life, my real one.

I longed to give him something, too. As his fingers raked the waves of my long hair, I wanted him to remember me, to remember us. I would have gladly given him anything he desired, but the pain in my chest meant I had nothing left to give. Nox already owned me—heart, body, and soul.

I was no longer my own to bestow.

“I’ll take you and Chelsea to the airport.”

I shook my head. “No, I can’t. I can’t do this again. This has to be our goodbye.” The word was a knife gutting the void.

The vein and tendons in his neck told me that he wanted to argue, perhaps demand. After all, he hadn’t asked. The navy swirling in his light blue eyes also let me know that his emotions were on overload. He was debating his next words.

“Please, Nox, please don’t make this more difficult than it already is.”

His lips captured mine. One last kiss—no longer gentle. This was rough and devouring.

I moaned as our bodies melted together.

When Nox released me, he brushed my bruised lips with his. It was as if he needed one more connection. “Charli, I’ll never forget you.” Taking my chin in his grasp, he said, “I’m not going to tell you which one or that I’m sorry for doing it, but when you discover the rule I broke, I hope you know that it was because of you.”

I shook my head. “I don’t understand. What rule?”

He kissed my nose. “I said I wasn’t going to tell you.”

“Will you tell me why it was because of me?”

“Because since the first moment I saw you, I’ve made exceptions. I’ve done and said things that I do not, as a rule, do. You do that to me. You make me rebel even against myself.”

I nodded, understanding exactly what he was saying. Nox had done the same thing to me. He’d made Charli into someone Alex or Alexandria would never be. Because of him I’d cheated on myself. And I loved him for it.

My eyes closed as another tear cascaded down my cheek. I’d said the word, if only in my head. I loved Nox, a man with no last name.

“Goodbye,” I choked as I turned and walked away. I couldn’t turn back. I couldn’t see him in his jeans and white button-down shirt with the rolled-up sleeves. I couldn’t stare one more second into the stunning pale blue of his eyes or run my fingers over the scruffiness of his jaw. When the doors to the elevator closed, I collapsed against the paneling and the control panel’s buttons blurred as I continued to blink away the tears.

Though my head ached from the pent-up pressure, it wasn’t until I was safely inside Chelsea’s and my suite that I let the sobs rain free. With my face buried in my best friend’s shoulder, I cried as my body convulsed with each tattered breath.

CHELSEA AND I settled into our airplane seats as other passengers walked by. People thought first-class was something special, but as person after person passed, first-class felt like a display case. I wished for a seat at the very back, a place where I could hide and no one would see.

“Before we take off, can I get you anything to drink?” the way-too-perky flight attendant asked, placing napkins on the armrest between us. With a wink, she tapped my knee. “You know, honey, it’s not that bright in here. You can take off your sunglasses.”

“My friend has sensitive eyes,” Chelsea said. “We’ll both have champagne.”

After she walked away, I whispered, “I don’t feel like celebrating.”

Chelsea removed my sunglasses, shook her head and returned them to my face. “You need to celebrate. You need to look at this the way it was—something amazing and unique.”

The attendant handed us each our plastic glass with bubbling liquid.

“I thought they used glass glasses in first-class,” Chelsea said, examining her cup.

“After we take off.”

“Because it’s safer to have real glass at 42,000 feet than sitting still on the ground?”

I shook my head. I’d never given it that much thought.

“Come on,” she encouraged. “Let’s toast.”

“Chels…”

She tipped her cup toward mine. “To Charli with an i.”

“To Charli with…” Nox. I said the last part only to myself. Then I added, “Welcome back, Alex.”

Chelsea smiled. “You know, Alex isn’t so bad.” She shrugged. “I like her.”

“Thanks. I’m glad. She’s not bad, but she doesn’t have an i.” Sighing, I reached under the seat in front of us and pulled out my purse. It didn’t matter that my eyes were red and puffy, I brought more attention to myself with the sunglasses than I did without them. I put them in their case.

“You know,” Chelsea said, “I had a great time, even if you didn’t.”

My face snapped toward her. “I did!”

“There,” she declared triumphantly. “I wanted you to hear yourself admit that. You did have a great time.”

“I did.” I turned on my phone. “Have you put your phone in airplane mode?” I asked.

“Hey, let me see that,” Chelsea said, grabbing my phone from my hand.

Why are people constantly taking my phone? “What are you doing?”

“I’ve been thinking about what you said, remember?”

I shook my aching head. “No, I don’t remember. Do you think they could get me something for this headache?”

“More champagne,” she murmured before she repeated the story I’d told her. “You said that he told you he broke a rule.”

My void grew. It was too early to remember his words. They weren’t only words in my memory. They were deep, velvety tones that tightened my insides while covering my skin in goose bumps.

Involuntarily, I shuddered.

If anyone notices, they’ll probably think I have the flu or some disease. If I don’t get my shit together, the FAA will put us all in quarantine.

“Chelsea, give me my phone. They’re closing the door.”

“Look!” She pointed at the screen.

“Shit,” I whispered. My pulse was suddenly racing as my puffy eyes filled with tears. “Why? Why would he do that?”

“I think if I remember what you told me, he said it was because of you. You make him break his own rules.”

NOX– PRIVATE NUMBER was displayed on the screen of my phone with a telephone number below.

“When?”

Chelsea shrugged. “Probably when he had you in a sex-induced coma.”

“Those don’t exist.”

“They do…” She wiggled her eyebrows. “…if you have too much sex.”

“Is that even possible?”

“Comatose? Hell yes.”

“No,” I corrected, “too much sex?”

“Not if it’s done right.”

Oh, Nox did it right.

“I should delete it.”

She pulled the phone away and spoke in a stage whisper. “Like hell you should. You’re not thinking straight right now. Don’t you dare delete that number.”

“But we agreed to one week, no future, no past. This opens a door for a future.”

Chelsea pursed her lips. “No, it doesn’t. It’s simply the door. Opening it would require hitting that little green icon.”

“We said…”

“He broke the rule.” She shrugged. “Maybe you should call him to yell at him.”

“I can’t call him. I can’t.”

“Fine, that doesn’t mean that you have to barricade the door. It’s not hurting anything sitting there.”

Hesitantly, I put my phone in airplane mode, leaving Nox’s number where he’d left it. With a sigh, I laid my head back against the leather seat, closed my eyes, and remembered. I wasn’t sure my eyes would ever close that I didn’t see the sexy pale blue stare, the menacing one that left me breathless.

“FORGET THEM, ALL of them,” Chelsea said, her voice coming through my phone loud and clear.

Sitting cross-legged on the bed of my Savannah hotel room, I shook my head. I knew I was in Georgia, and she was in California so I knew she couldn’t see me, but I needed to move. I needed to explain. “I-I will. God! I can’t believe they did this. I really thought this was about my getting it early. How? How could they do this? I guess Alton doesn’t surprise me, but my mother?”

“I mean what the hell? Did they really think you’d say, ‘Sure, let me just throw my dreams away’ and fall in with their plan?”

I took another drink of wine. It was a cheap bottle from a drug store. On the way from the airport, I asked the taxi driver to stop. Sure, they had room service at the Hilton, but suddenly money was an object. It wasn’t like I was ever a compulsive shopper. I wasn’t my mother. My wardrobe was limited, but quality. That wasn’t for any reason other than habit. It was all I’d ever known.

The wine I found at the store had two pluses: it was inexpensive and the bottle was big. I’d drunk this brand before with Chelsea, and while it didn’t exactly taste like the Montague private reserve, now that half the bottle was gone, I hardly noticed. One of the facts I needed to face: my days of spending more on wine were gone.

Not gone. Postponed.

If I could somehow stay in school, one day I’d buy the best that money had to offer. One day, I’d make Jane proud. I’d make me proud. Bryce said I’d be a lousy lawyer because I had standards. I disagreed.

“Chels?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think I can do it? Can I be a good attorney?”

“Hell yes!”

I pulled the phone away from my ear as a smile curved my now-stained lips. “Bryce said I’d be a bad one. My mother doesn’t want me to ever practice. And then there was the senator.” My whole body shivered. “I don’t know if I can do the good-ole-boy thing.”

“Honey,” she said, her tone mellowed, “they screwed you. Your family royally screwed you, and not the oh-that-was-fun kind of way.”

“I do like that way better.”

Chelsea laughed.

The label of the large bottle of wine caught my eye. Under the large drawing of a foot, I read the words California Wine. Despite my emotional breakdown, my thoughts went to Nox and my smile grew.

“I know you do,” she said. “You could always give Mr. Handsome a call. Maybe he knows someone. We never figured out whom he worked for. Maybe he has some New York connections?”

I shook my head. “Let me get right on that. Hi, remember me? Charli? Well, first, that’s not my name, and, oh yes, my whole life was just flushed down the toilet. I didn’t call you when I was financially solvent, but now that I’m penniless, can you help me out?”

“You’re making it sound like it’s a bad idea.”

“It’s a very bad idea. If, and I mean if, I ever see him again, the last thing I want him to think is that I’m needy.” I lay back against the headboard. “I hate being needy. Alexandria was needy…”

“Babe, you’re going to do this. I know you are. First, you’re not penniless. You have a full jar of those in your room. Second, you created Alex and Charli. You will…”

I closed my eyes and listened as Chelsea gave me the pep talk I needed. However, the person I was seeing behind my closed lids wasn’t my best friend. The person who I saw had the palest blue eyes and chiseled jaw. He had hands that were strong but gentle. He wore the sexiest cologne, yet filled a room with the sweet aroma of musk and desire.

I didn’t want to think about Nox, remember him, or dream of him. It just happened. Seeing California wines or the course number 101 made my insides tighten. Hell, just touching the high heels that had adorned the dashboard of the Boxster brought me to near orgasm. My vibrator had burned through more batteries than I cared to admit since we left Del Mar.

Nox was a piece of my history, my past, and I had come to terms with that. In a way, that made him better. We’d never have a first real fight. We’d never betray one another or end up in a sad relationship like my mother and Alton. Nox would always and forever be my prince.

Thinking about him was better than thinking about my family.

“What are you going to do?”

Chelsea’s question snapped me back to reality. “I don’t know. I was wondering if I could ask you a big favor.”

“Whatever you want, you’ve got it. Do you want me to sell blood? I’m there for you. Eggs? I heard you can make a lot doing that.”

“Stop,” I said with a giggle. “It’s not quite that dramatic. No selling. I draw the line at prostitution. No, it’s just that I don’t have my ticket for Palo Alto. The movers are scheduled to get my stuff on Thursday. I’ve already paid them so I know they’re coming. It might be better financially for me to go straight to New York. My mother mentioned that my cousin Patrick lives in Manhattan. I’m not sure where, but I’ve been thinking I could call him. If he’ll let me bunk with him until my apartment is ready… then maybe…”

“I was listening. I really was. What was your question?”

“Will you pack the rest of my stuff?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure I can be trusted with your shoes.”

I took a deep breath. “I love you, I really do. But if you touch the black Louboutins, I will have to kill you.”

“No way. After what happened in those babies, I think you should consider putting them in some kind of glass case—you know, like the museums have?”

“So?”

“Yes, I’ll pack. First, call Patrick and be sure the plan’s a go. If it is, I’m going to miss your face. And I’m not leaving you alone in New York. We’re going to see each other again.”

“I love you, sister.” She was the sister I never had.

“Back atcha. Text me. Tell me what’s happening.”

“I will.”

Just saying my plan out loud gave it strength. Alton and Adelaide expected me to submit to their plan. They thought I’d fold. I’m not folding, not without a fight.

I’d already paid the deposit and first month’s rent on my apartment’s lease, but maybe if Patrick had room… I knew my chances were slim. I wouldn’t have had an extra room. The one-bedroom apartment I rented on the Upper West Side was nearly three thousand a month. That was for one bedroom, a living room, galley kitchen, and small bathroom. Square footage was extremely expensive in Manhattan. Not many people had extra bedrooms. Then again, in order to keep my dream alive, I’d sleep on a couch for three years.

Taking another drink of my California wine, I scrolled through my contacts. I hadn’t seen Patrick since Christmas of my senior year at the academy. At that time he was a junior at Pratt. I thought I remembered hearing that he’d returned to Savannah for graduate school. That was why I was surprised when Mother mentioned he was back in Manhattan. I obviously hadn’t done a very good job of keeping up on family happenings. Heck, he might not even have the same phone number.

I couldn’t call my mother to get his contact information, and I wasn’t sure Aunt Gwen would give it to me—not if she were in on Alton’s plan.

I said a quick prayer and pushed his number.

Patrick answered on the second ring. “No way!” His excitement brought a ray of sunlight to my darkened spirit.

“You are still alive,” I said.

“Oh little cousin, I’m alive and kicking. Did I hear you’re going to Columbia soon?”

“You did.” Aunt Gwen must do a better job of keeping him informed than my mother did me.

“And after all this time, I’m going to get to see all-grown-up Alexandria?”

“Alex.”

“Oh, excuse me…Alex.”

I shook my head. “Sorry. I just left the manor and I’m a little touchy.”

“Yeah, that place can do that to people. It has Uncle Alton in a constant state of pissiness.”

I laughed. “He’s pissy even when he’s out of town.”

“No shit! What’s going on with you?”

We talked about everything, except the reason I left Montague Manor and the reason I called. We talked about school and graduate school. He talked about interior design and how he was currently doing an internship with a well-known design firm in the business district. He said the name, but I didn’t know much about interior design and had never heard of it.

It was when he said he lived on the Upper East Side that I perked up.

“Wow,” I tried not to be too excited. “Pat, that’s not far from Columbia.”

“Other side of the park. I can probably see the buildings from my window. Great view.”

“I can’t imagine how much a place like that costs. I have a deposit on a one-bedroom on the Upper West Side, not far from the campus.”

“Girl, we’ll be close. I’m so glad you called.”

I sucked in a breath. “God, Pat, I hate to ask this, but my apartment won’t be ready for another week, and I was wondering…” I let my words trail away.

“Umm, when were you thinking?”

“Tomorrow.”

Whatever Patrick was drinking must have sprayed the walls of his fancy-addressed apartment. From my end, I only heard him choking and sputtering. “That’s not a lot of heads up. Let me… let me call you back.”

The little bit of hope I’d had left evaporated. “No. That’s all right.”

“Little cousin, don’t be all like that. Listen, I know you’ve been all big and grown up out in California, but New York’s not Stanford. It’s also not scary. You lived eighteen years in that house of horrors.”

He had no idea.

“You can make it just fine here. Just like the song says, baby, If you can make it…” His impromptu rendition of New York, New York put the smile back on my face.

“Pat, it’s fine. I’ll come up with something—”

“No. I just have to check with my… roommate.”

“What? No way. Is this a roommate or a roommate?” Patrick was always good looking. At the academy, even though he was older than me, I heard stories. He was well-known for his exploits: womanizer extraordinaire. Yet in private I never had that vibe. As a matter of fact, in private I had the opposite vibe.

“You mean you saw my mother and she didn’t tell you all about it?”

I shook my head. “No, but you know the Fitzgerald code.”

Patrick laughed. “Well, they haven’t disowned me, but I don’t think they’re announcing it at parties either.”

He was doing better than me. I had until the holidays and then I would be officially disowned. The hell with them. I’ll disown them.

“Are you happy?” I asked.

“More than I ever thought possible.”

I sighed. I knew that feeling, briefly. It was the best. “I don’t want to cause any problems.” I really didn’t.

“No problems. Let me talk to Cy. I’m not sure if he’ll be in or out of town. He travels a lot. I’ll call you first thing in the morning. One way or another: We. Are. Getting. Together!”

“Thanks, Pat. Is this thing serious? I don’t want to intrude.”

“Love you, sweetie. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.”

As I disconnected our call, the text message icon blinked wildly. I needed to text Chelsea and let her know that I’d reached Patrick.

I didn’t recognize the number, and no name came up with it. My teeth clenched as I swiped the screen. Of course, I didn’t know the number: it wasn’t programmed into my phone. That didn’t stop the message from popping up.

Unknown number: “ALEX, THIS IS BRYCE. DON’T DO IT AGAIN. DON’T RUN AWAY. THIS WAS ALWAYS THE PLAN…”

There were four messages.

Do I read or delete?

I hit the little icon of a trashcan.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow I was leaving for New York. Tomorrow I was starting a new life. Neither the Montagues, Fitzgeralds, nor Spencers were going to dictate my life. They didn’t own me. If they thought I’d simply give up my dreams because of money, they didn’t know me.

They knew the girl they expected me to be. They knew Alexandria. Alexandria was gone. Alex was flying to New York tomorrow. She had a life to live.

There were millions of people in New York who had made it there. I would find a way.