Текст книги "Hothouse Flower"
Автор книги: Becca Ritchie
Соавторы: Krista Ritchie
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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 29 страниц)
< 36 >
RYKE MEADOWS
We’ve made some progress towards California. Not much. But we’re getting there.
Before the sun fell, we arrived at the heart of the Smoky Mountains. Like I said, we’re still fucking far away. But the point of this trip isn’t to speed to California. It’s for my brother to relax, breathe, and try to find some inner-fucking-peace.
I could use some of that too.
Connor spins on his expensive loafers that sink into the muddy dirt. This image is so priceless: Connor Cobalt in a fucking suit standing in the middle of the woods and looking—probably for the first time in his life—like he doesn’t belong.
If he was trying to schmooze an advertising exec and planned a wilderness retreat, he’d put on a fake fucking smile and dress down to fit in. But there isn’t any reward in pitching a tent for him right now. He just has to do it because we’re friends and we told him so.
“You okay there, Cobalt?” I ask.
He shoots me the middle finger. I see the annoyance flicker in his eyes. It’s easier to catch his emotions the more you know him.
Lo smiles. “Hey, look at that. Connor has adopted Ryke’s native language.”
“Why aren’t we staying in a hotel again?” Connor asks me. “Not that I don’t love to see how you like to live, Ryke, but some of us prefer a bed to the ground.”
“It’s called camping,” I retort.
Connor gives me a look. “I’d forgotten the definition of camping. Now that you reminded me, the whole world is clear.” His real irritation, however, comes from his phone. He raises it at the sky, trying to achieve cell signal. He’s already worried about Rose, and now that he’s losing communication with her, he’s becoming a bigger asshole.
Good thing I can handle most personalities, even Connor Cobalt’s conceited one.
“For someone so fucking smart, you sure as hell love to act stupid around me.”
“Like Lo said,” Connor says, half-distracted as he presses buttons on his cell, “I’m trying to tap into your way of living.” He just called me dumb. He lets out a frustrated sigh and pockets his phone. “So far it sucks.” And he hightails it back to the car to help Daisy unload the supplies.
Lo kicks some rocks and twigs away from the place where we’re setting the tents, clearing anything sharp that’ll dig into our backs. He does so with a distant gaze, lost inside his head.
“Hey.” I come up beside him. “You want to go to a fucking hotel too?”
He glances at the thick woods that surround us and gestures towards the pines. “Don’t act like you didn’t see an RV past those trees.” He points at the tall ones that seclude us from the other campsites.
It’s a national park. There are other campers. I can’t change that. But at least we have some privacy. I recognize his fears though. This trip is supposed to be paparazzi free. For us to live off the grid and be absent of the media.
That’s what I promised him.
If some road-tripping family recognizes us, snaps some pictures and posts them to the web, we’re fucked. But this is the best I can do.
“They’re not going to find us here, Lo.”
His eyes darken, not completely trusting me. I don’t know if he ever will. “In rehab they had a five-star gourmet chef on call. Your pseudo-rehab isn’t really living up to my expectations.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t hire a fucking butler or maid, and I forgot to pack those scented toilettes you use to wipe your ass,” I snap. He’s not a rich snob that he makes himself out to be. He just likes to poke people until he sees a reaction. “If you want to go to rehab in New York, I’m not fucking stopping you, Lo. I’m just giving you another option.” I outstretch my arms. “Open air. Freedom from the media. A normal fucking life for a month. Something that the rehab center isn’t going to provide you with.” At least not when everyone there will know he’s Loren Hale. Another celebrity checking themselves into the center.
Like clockwork.
I wait for his response, and Connor returns, watching my brother as well, seeing what his decision will be. I can support either choice, but I want to be available if he goes to rehab. I can’t be on the road with shitty cell reception while he’s back in New York.
So if he chooses rehab, this trip to California is over. For Daisy, for me. I’d pick my brother in this instance. I have to.
After a long moment of silence, Lo looks at me. “Hotdogs and hamburgers tonight?”
My limbs loosen in relief. “Yeah,” I say with a nod. “You okay with that?”
“As long as Connor doesn’t cook them. He doesn’t understand that medium-rare means red and bloody.”
“No, I understand the meaning of medium-rare,” Connor counters. “I just also understand the meaning of Escherichia coli.”
“Why the fuck can’t you just say E. coli?” I ask.
“Because abbreviations are lazy and I’m clearly not.”
I shouldn’t have asked.
Daisy tries to carry a stack of fold-out chairs in her arms all at once. I take a step forward to go help her, but Lo puts his hand on my chest. “I’ve got this.” He pats my shoulder with force, silently warning me, and then sprints to catch Daisy before she falls.
She laughs while he takes two chairs off her pile.
“You’re glaring,” Connor tells me.
“Fuck off.” Though I do try to lessen the agitation that tenses my jaw.
“Maybe try acting like you don’t want to murder your brother for stepping in your way.”
“It’s hard,” I say truthfully. I scratch my neck. “What would you do if you were me?” Maybe it’s masochistic of me to ask after what happened at the motel. But I want to hear his answer anyway.
“If I were you? You mean if I was screwing an eighteen-year-old girl who’s my brother’s girlfriend’s little sister, whose mother hates me because I’m the spawn of Sara Hale, and whose father dislikes likes me because he’s protective over his youngest, wildest daughter?”
I open my mouth to chew him out, but he cuts me off.
“But if I’m you,” he says with the tilt of his head, “I’ve also been there for that girl. When she had an ape of a boyfriend, when she was alone and all backs were turned, when she was going through heavier things than all of us realized.” His calm tone soothes any anger that threatens to rise. Just like that. “If I were you, Ryke, I’d stop letting people see the worst parts of me, and I’d finally show them the good.” He shrugs. “But I’m clearly not you.” He stares around at the forest landscape. “And you’re not me.”
“I just don’t see what good it’ll do to have those fucking arguments.” I don’t want to fight. I just want to leave it all behind. I watch Daisy unfold all of the chairs with Lo. He motions to her messily cut hair, and she shows him the back, the blonde strands uneven. He shakes his head, but her face has never been brighter, even with a scar.
“Why does there have to be an argument?” Connor asks.
“You think people are just going to accept any explanation that comes out of my mouth? I can talk to her mom until she’s blue in the fucking face. She won’t accept me, Connor. Her dad let Daisy date Julian, a guy my age who thought more with his cock than his head, and I’m the one who receives threatening looks when I stop by her parent’s house.”
“First off, he didn’t let her date Julian,” Connor notes. “He was furious. You weren’t there when Jonathan and Greg were trying to plot ways to have him fired from his modeling agency.”
“That clearly didn’t work.”
“I said tried,” Connor says easily. “I never said they were successful.” He presses a few buttons on his phone again. “Greg is a smart guy, Ryke. Even though you aren’t dating Daisy out in the open, he’s known since she was fifteen that she’s had a crush on you. He’s just worried you’re going to lead her on and break her heart.”
I wish I had a better relationship with her parents, but I don’t. In order to be Greg’s friend like Connor is, I’d have to start talking to my father. Greg and Jonathan see each other all the fucking time. Greg used to stop by the country club on Mondays when I was a kid. He was the water to my father’s scotch. Nice. Cool, even. Sometimes I used to wish he was my dad.
“I know this is going to seem like such a foreign concept to you,” Connor says, raising his phone in the air again, “but if you actually show that you’re invested in a girl beyond sex in front of people that matter, you’ll gain more respect from them.”
But he forgets that I don’t speak with an even-tempered voice. I’m rough. I’m abrasive as hell, and the moment I try to talk, everything comes out coarse. Nothing comes out how I really intend. I gave Daisy sex advice when she was fifteen because I was trying to steer her towards the kind of guys that would treat her right. And I got shit on for that conversation for the next two fucking years.
“Hey,” Lo calls. He holds up a package of hamburgers and then points at the tent that Daisy tries to set up alone. “You two helping or is doing five things at once part of my rehabilitation?”
I’m about to walk over to him, but Connor inhales and puts the phone to his ear. “Rose?” He frowns. “What? Wait, darling…you’re breaking up.” He looks at the cell, actually glaring at the technology. He turns to Lo. “You better set out two more chairs.”
“No.” I groan. “Lily promised me she wouldn’t arrive early.” All three Calloway girls for twenty long days in a confined space—shit.
“She broke it then,” Connor says, trying to sigh in relief, but he still looks worried. “Rose said they’re ten minutes out before the line dropped.”
Fuck me.
< 37 >
DAISY CALLOWAY
Rose and Lily are here.
At the beginning, I was too stunned to do anything but smile, a full-blown one filled with genuine happiness. I didn’t realize how much I wanted them here until they arrived. Lily hugs me tight, and I try to convince them to sneak away with me. Girl time, no boys.
But they have to reunite with their respective partners.
I back away from my sisters while Lo wraps his arms around Lily. She’s wearing her Wampa cap, a white furry hat that has flaps for her ears. Lo whispers to her, and she blushes bright red. As I keep backing up, I bump into something hard and two pairs of hands rest on my shoulders.
I crane my neck. “Hey you,” I say to Ryke. He stares at me with those brooding eyes. I wish he could kiss me the way Lo bathes Lily in his love. Out in the open, passionate beautiful kisses that seem to make them float off the earthen floor. But even in the darkened night, the campfire flickers close by, illuminating our features.
We can’t hide with everyone around.
Rose and Connor talk in French. He kisses her forehead, rubbing the back of her neck with tender affection, and her nose crinkles. “What animal died beside our tents?” She puts her hand to her mouth.
“Are you burning the burgers?” Lo asks Ryke, and I feel his hands drop off me, cold air replacing the spot.
“No, I just started cooking them.” Ryke checks the burgers just to make sure, leaving my side.
I sniff the air. “I don’t smell anything except wood smoke.” I hike over to where Rose stands, her five-inch heels sinking in the dirt. Connor has his arm around her waist, and he tries to kindly take her purse from her, but Rose swats him with it.
“I’m not lying,” she says. “It smells foul.”
“It’s probably the fucking pit toilet,” Ryke tells her. “You passed it in your car on the way here.”
Rose shakes her head. “It’s closer.” She pinches her nose and gags dramatically.
“Maybe it’s your own stench,” Lo says, holding Lily to his chest like she’s a part of him, a piece that had been missing this whole time. He seems happier. “Bitch No. 5.”
Rose points a threatening finger at him, manicured and blood red. “You insult Chanel and my heel will find your asshole in a millisecond, Loren.”
“Oooh,” Loren mock cringes. “I didn’t know you could move that fast with your she-devil hooves.”
Rose shrieks, and I flinch at the violent noise, coming out of nowhere. She tries to catapult herself at Lo, but Connor is really fast. He grabs her around the waist, holding Rose tightly. And I jump again when pine needles and dried leaves crunch beside me. Ryke stands there and gives me a look like you okay?
It’s nighttime.
I hate nighttime unless I’m wrapped in his arms.
I nod, trying to play it cool and not act like a scared teenager.
Rose kicks her legs out, while wearing a pleated black dress, even as her husband restrains her. She looks more unladylike than I’ve seen her in a while. I know she has meltdowns. Lo has mentioned them before in their spats, but she almost always keeps these moments hidden from me.
My vision of Rose is this solid iron fortress that won’t let anyone in, not even Lo’s snide comments. She just bulldozes right over him with ones of her own.
Right now, his few words are crawling underneath her skin faster than usual.
Connor whispers in her ear, and she screams something in French.
I turn to Ryke. “What’d she say?” I whisper.
He stares down at me. “I’m not overreacting,” he translates under his breath.
She shrieks again. I don’t flinch this time.
“Is that your she-devil cry?” Lo continues to antagonize. Lily slaps his arm, seriously telling him to quit.
Connor actually glares at him. “Lo,” he warns. “Stop.”
Rose is tearing at Connor’s hands, manically trying to free herself from his strong hold. His lips return to her ear, and I think she’s on the verge of a panic attack, inhaling sharply. How did this happen over a couple comments?
Guilt washes over Lo’s features, and I catch Ryke watching his brother closely. “Lo,” Ryke says, nodding to him. “Help me with the burgers?”
Lo nods and they break away from us, nearing the fire.
I trudge over to Lily, who’s biting her nails as she watches Rose’s outburst. “Is she okay?” I ask Lily. Clearly she’s not, but I don’t know what else to ask. “Is she PMSing or something?”
“I guess,” Lily says.
I reach out and hold her hand so she stops biting her nails, a bad habit of hers. She gives me a weak smile and I return it.
When I look back at Rose, she’s no longer thrashing in place.
Connor points to me while his lips move fiercely against her ear, and then Rose’s gaze peels off Loren and fixes on me, as though just now noticing my presence. I think she’s about to cry.
I’ve never seen Rose cry before.
She wipes her teary eyes quickly and nods while Connor keeps talking. His flexed muscles start to relax and then he kisses her forehead. She hands him her purse, straightens her dress, raises her chin and walks calmly over to me, as though nothing just happened. As though she did not have an epic meltdown.
“Let’s go somewhere,” Rose says, “just the three of us. I need air that’s not polluted by Loren Hale.” She waits for my answer, and then her eyes linger on my scar. Both of my sisters have been avoiding my cheek since they saw me, looking anywhere but there. She catches herself and tries to force a smile.
“I know a perfect place,” I say with a sly grin. I scoped out the area and woods before they arrived.
Five minutes later, I’ve navigated Lily and Rose through the mountainous terrain, filled with fallen logs and wet moss the closer we near the small waterfall. The moon and flashlights guide our way there. The trees break into a clearing, and stone surrounds what looks like a deep swimming hole, the waterfall collecting in the pool and then running into a tinier stream.
I sit on the stone and shed my long-sleeve shirt, the air nippy in mid-October.
“No way,” Lily says. “It has to be freezing.”
Rose shines her flashlight at the murky water. “It’s brown.”
“It only looks that way because it’s dark,” I insist.
She inspects the area a little more, her beam of light whipping from tree to tree, checking for visibility. It’s private for the most part.
Lily hesitates, crouching and dipping her finger in to test the temperature.
“Come on,” I smile at them. “You’re not going to make me beg, are you?” I stick out my bottom lip and bat my eyelashes. I will totally play the I-was-just-in-the-hospital card if I have to. I have to use it to my advantage while I can.
“Are we going in like naked, naked?” Lily asks.
Rose points the light at her face. “What other kind of naked is there?”
Lily blocks the beam with her hand and squints. “Partial nudity and full nudity.”
“I’m going full,” I declare, standing while I unbutton my jeans. I snap off my bra, and I’m out of my panties in seconds.
Rose shuts off her light. “Daisy,” she says my name with severity while Lily takes off her Wampa cap and starts shedding her shirt. “We should talk about what happened in Paris, the runway and the riot.”
I do the immature thing and take the opportunity to escape that discussion. I jump straight into the swimming hole, the ice cold water shrinking my lungs and plunging me into pure darkness. But I don’t want to kick to the surface just yet.
I know what awaits me.
Feelings that I’ve dug through since… never. I’ve tried to take one thing at a time. The hospital. The scar. My mom. The runway rejection. Quitting my career. Everything just piled up on each other. I didn’t have time to really process. It just happened like a domino hitting the next one in line. I had no chance to go backwards and recount all the pieces that knocked over.
Ryke says I need to let it out.
To scream.
But I just saw Rose’s meltdown, and all it really did was worry her husband, guilt Lo and cause Lily’s eyes to bug out of her head.
Why scream if it just hurts everyone around you?
When my lungs beg for air, I pop to the surface. Rose is in her black panties and bra, peering into the water from the edge of the rock. The moment I come up, she splashes me. “I thought you drowned,” she says icily. “I was about to jump in after you.”
“Jump in now,” I say, the freezing water pimpling my arms and legs. I float on my back. “It’s so warm.”
Rose’s eyes narrow. “You’re shivering.”
Lily’s completely naked, and she slides in the water really slowly. Her boobs are totally bigger than mine now. I glance at my breasts. Did mine shrink? Damn.
“Are your boobs bigger?” I ask Lily. “Or are mine smaller?”
Lily blushes deep red, still not used to talking about sex and all that jazz. I was never really close to her like that growing up. I went to Rose for any female-related advice. “Uhhh…” She touches her cheek. “Am I red?”
“Yes,” Rose and I say in unison.
Lily glances at my boobs as I float. “Uh, yours are smaller. You got really skinny, Daisy.” She plops all the way in the water and actually hisses like a cat. “Cold, cold.” Her breath smokes the air and she clings onto a warmer rock for refuge. I’m sure she’s wishing for Lo’s body right now.
I could use a Ryke Meadows pillow.
I smile at the thought.
Rose hops into the water, keeping her underwear on. “Motherfucker,” she gasps when she breaches the surface. Her glossy hair is wet around her cheeks. Her teeth chatter, and she nears Lily, who deserts her rock to swim closer to Rose.
“Huddle, huddle,” Lily says.
I laugh as they hold onto each other for warmth. I know they’re suffering through the cold for me, and I appreciate it a lot.
Rose looks at me, and her eyes land on my scar.
I stop floating and tread water.
“Are you worried about what mom is going to say?” Lily asks me first.
I tremble. I’m not sure it’s just from the cold. “I want to move on from this, and I’m afraid she’s going to turn it into such a big deal that I won’t be able to.”
“Tell her that,” Rose says.
“How?” I ask. “She won’t talk to me. I called her five times.”
Rose holds onto Lily like she’s her personal heating blanket, almost dunking her under the water a couple times. But Lily keeps her chin above the surface and elbows her. Rose concentrates on me, or at least tries to. “She doesn’t take change well,” Rose says. “By the time you go home, she’ll be ready to talk to you about your career change.”
“What if I don’t have a good backup plan?” I ask.
“You may need one,” Rose says honestly. “Mother likes plans, and if all you have is I don’t know, she’s going to start filling out college resumes for you.”
So in order to escape my mom’s control, I have to figure out what I want to do with my life. That shouldn’t be so hard, but it sounds terrifying to make that decision at eighteen.
I need like five more years at least.
Maybe ten.
A decade sounds good. A decade of preparing for what I’m going to do for the next fifty years. How do other eighteen-year-olds solidify their dreams and career paths right before college? How is it possible to know what you’re good at and what you love so young?
What if you never find out?
What if you spend a lifetime searching with no real answer in the end?
The future is depressing.
Maybe that’s why I’ve never thought about it before.
“You and Ryke,” Rose suddenly says, waking me up from my melancholy stupor. Maybe she realized the topic of our mom was a downer. “Have you fucked yet?”
I gape. Wow, my sister said that so blasé-like. “We’re not together, so…” It’s weird. I’ve said these words before, but now they’ve become an actual lie.
Rose rolls her eyes. “When you do have sex, please make sure he’s safe with you. I would have a talk with him, but Connor forbade me. He said it wasn’t my place,” she scoffs. “You’re my sister. It’s most definitely my place to threaten his testicles and penis.”
Lily frowns. “When does Connor forbid you to do anything?” Rose does have equal footing in her relationship with Connor. Except probably in bed. God, I balk at the memory of him dominating her as they had sex. I restrain the urge to disappear beneath the water.
“He threatened to return all of the Hermes clothes he bought for me.” She inhales deeply. “It was low. But I’ve moved past it.”
“Right,” I say with a smile. “Well you don’t need to worry. I’m not having sex with him.” Yet.
This should be the moment where I open up about my very first orgasm, where I share all the details. I’ve told them about these troubles before, so telling them about my success would be natural. But I keep that inside. Not just because it involves Ryke but because it feels attached to more things I can’t express to them anymore.
Night terrors. Sleeping.
I have no more pain medication, which means no more sluggish sleep for me.
I’ll be taking Ambien tonight, a pill that combats my insomnia but brings me to a dark realistic dream-state.
I’m nervous about screaming in the middle of the night, waking and worrying them. How do I explain myself?
Do I say: I can’t sleep at night because I think about the man who crawled into my room to snap pictures. I think about the paparazzi who’ve cornered me. I think about all the friends who hate me, scorned me and terrified me. I think about all the men who believe I’m Lily. And you’re the cause, big sis. You’re the reason I can’t sleep. If it wasn’t for your sex addiction, I’d be free. So fucking free.
You’ve hurt me.
I can’t say those words.
Not tonight.
Maybe not ever.
No one brings up Ryke again, but after one minute, Lily winces. “Ow. Don’t pinch,” she tells Rose.
“I didn’t,” Rose snaps. “Stop rubbing up against the rock.” And then Rose’s gaze drifts to me, and her eyes slowly grow.
“What?” I say. “I know you don’t like my haircut, Rose—”
“It’s not that,” Rose says softly. “Lily, get out of the water.”
“What?” Lily says, and then she follows Rose’s gaze. “Oh…shit.” Lily motions to my neck and then she turns and crawls onto the rock. The moment she does, I see, on Lily’s back, what Rose is internally freaking out about.
Leeches.
We’re swimming with leeches.
