Текст книги "Hothouse Flower"

Автор книги: Becca Ritchie

Соавторы: Krista Ritchie
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Текущая страница: 25 (всего у книги 29 страниц)

< 56 >

RYKE MEADOWS

I’m in a room alone with my fucking father, my girlfriend’s dad and Connor. Right when I stepped onto the plane, Greg put his hand on my shoulder and said, “We need to talk.”

I thought he was reserving that talk with Daisy, but I’m sure he’ll have another one with her later, just to confirm that I didn’t sleep with her when she was fifteen.

He steered me into the front cabin and pushed me onto a cream leather recliner.

My sore muscles tense the longer I’m in a room with the fucking devil and his sidekick. That devil, by the way, has already poured his second glass of whiskey: straight, one ice cube. By the window, he takes big sips, sitting on a chair next to Connor, watching Greg face me in his own seat.

“I don’t even know where to start,” Greg admits, his green eyes zeroed in on me like a fucking target.

I rub the back of my neck and say, “You can ask me anything.” I can’t look at my father, only ten feet away, right fucking there. I haven’t been this close to him in years.

“I can think of a hundred places to start,” my dad pipes in, swishing his glass of whiskey. Instead of meeting my father’s eyes, I look at Connor beside him, his expression unreadable, drinking red wine. He easily fits among these men who are twice his age, and Connor exudes far more fucking confidence than either of them.

I’m no longer outdoors. I’m no longer in my element. I’ve entered Connor’s fucking realm, and I wonder if he’s mentally snapshotting this picture of me, here. Like I did to him back in Tennessee.

Greg’s eyes never leave mine. “I have this, Jonathan.” His jaw clenches once, and he says, “I let you chaperone my daughter on her sweet sixteen trip.” His voice shakes, seething. “I put my trust in you, and you spat at me.”

I don’t interrupt him. I breathe through my nose, trying not to get defensive.

“I want to know,” Greg says, clutching his knees, “if you’ve been avoiding me for the past two and a half years because you knew what you were doing was wrong.”

“No,” I say, my chest inflating with these raw emotions.

“Speak up, Ryke,” my father says from the window. “And he deserves more than a half-hearted no from you.”

I run my hand through my hair. That movement stretches my sore deltoids and biceps, and I stifle a fucking grimace. I wonder if it looks like I’m pissed at Greg. I know I’m hard to read. I know the only thing people see is this fucking black expression.

Truth is, I care what he thinks of me. Maybe a year ago I’d say believe what you want. I don’t give a fuck. But I don’t want Daisy to have to choose between me and her parents. I don’t want this fucking headache for her. I’m trying to do what’s right.

“I never thought being her friend was fucking wrong,” I start. “So no, I never intentionally avoided you because of Daisy.” I avoided you because you were friends with my father, who I never wanted to see.

I can tell Greg is fuming inside. He breathes heavily. “Let’s cut the bullshit. You were more than just her friend.”

I’m too exhausted to lean forward and start shouting. Which may be a fucking good thing. “No, I wasn’t. I never kissed her until Paris,” I tell him the truth.

Greg is still on the offensive. “Help me to believe you, Ryke. I work eighty hours a week. I don’t have time to hover over my daughter, but I have been very aware of how much time she’s spent with you. And I’ve been very aware of how much she’s fallen for you.”

“Then why not tell her to get the fuck away from me?” I ask, extending my arms. “If you thought I was such a bad influence, then why let her hang around me for so fucking long?”

He lets out a tight breath. “Samantha didn’t care for you, but I remembered you as a young boy. You were tough and strong, and you didn’t take shit from anyone, not even Jonathan.”

My dad smiles at that and raises his drink. His eyes meet mine, and I see a glimmer of fucking pride. That I’m strong like him.

My stomach roils.

“Out of my four daughters, Daisy is the most reckless. She never sits still. Even as a child, she always found a way outside when her mother or nannies weren’t looking. And you came into her life around the same time that our family became a public spectacle.”

I read into the rest. “You liked that I could keep up with her,” I realize. “You wanted me to be her fucking bodyguard, and you never thought I would be stupid enough to cross that line.” No matter how hard Daisy flirted, no matter how much she teased me, he believed I would never take her shit. I’d shut her down every time.

I didn’t.

I couldn’t.

Because I fell in love with her.

He nods once. “All this time I’d been worried that you’d lead her on and she’d be crushed from the rejection, but I never actually thought you’d get with her.” He lets out a short breath. “It was naïve of me.”

 I shake my head. How do I change how he sees me? I don’t know. I don’t fucking know. I comb my hand through my hair again, a weight on my chest. “I’m not like her ex-boyfriends,” I say. “I’m not in it for…” Fuck. I can’t end that thought.

Greg looks just as uncomfortable.

“The sex,” my father finishes for me. “No need to beat around the proverbial bush.”

Greg rolls his eyes. “You don’t have any daughters, Jonathan.”

“Thank God for that.”

Connor looks amused by the whole conversation. He leans back and sips his wine.

Greg has simmered down some, but his shoulders still stay locked and rigid.

“Let me help you out, Greg,” my dad says. “It’ll be easier for me to ask the harder questions.” No. Fuck no. Still, I don’t shoot to my feet. I stayed glued to this fucking chair, my eyes flickering to an ash tray on the glass end table. Avoiding my dad’s gaze for another moment. The plane shakes as we fly through a cloud.

My dad rises and holds onto the back of Greg’s chair, the turbulence rough. “Did you ever think about Daisy sexually when she was fifteen?” my father starts.

My chest inflates with anger again. “Fuck off.”

“I’ll take that exceedingly rude and annoying answer as a yes,” my dad says, sipping his whiskey.

I glare. “No. I had no intention of…” I trail off and glance at Greg.

“Act like her father isn’t in the room,” my dad says.

That’s fucking impossible. He’s four feet away from me. “Look,” I say, “Daisy is gorgeous, but I tried not to think of her like that.”

“Tried? Did you fail?” he asks.

“Why are you prosecuting me like a fucking lawyer, Dad?” I retort.

His eyebrows rise in genuine shock. “So you still consider me your father? That’s funny considering you’ve returned only one of my calls in a year.” Before I tell him to fuck off again, he asks, “Did you masturbate to her image or likeness?”

“No,” I growl. A few times. Once recently. She was eighteen already. A part of me will always feel guilty for it.

“That’s enough, Jonathan,” Greg says. His eyes actually soften on me, noticing how worked up I’m getting. I’ve balled one of my hands into a fist, and a bitter, nasty taste rises in my mouth.

Greg asks, “What’s your longest relationship, Ryke?”

“A few months, maybe four.”

Greg sighs. “Okay, here’s where I stand. I believe that you weren’t with my daughter until Paris, but that doesn’t mean I approve of you with her. You’re still twenty-five, and maybe in ten years the age difference won’t seem as significant, but what you’ve just said makes me think you’ll last three months. You say you’re not in it for the sex, but I’m not that naïve.” He pauses and adds, “She’s given you her heart, and if you’re going to give her anything less than that, then you need to end this right now. Understand?”

I nod a couple times. I can’t just leave it like this. I dig inside my soul, trying to produce something more. “I hope,” I say, meeting Greg’s gaze, “that one day you’ll be able to see how much I love your daughter.”

“If you stay with her long enough, I just might.”

It’s definitely better than where we started. He reaches out to shake my hand.

It’s a kind offer, one that I won’t fucking reject.

I’m going to build a relationship with her father, even if it means having to get closer to mine. It’s a sacrifice I am willing to make a thousand times over.

I’d fucking call that love.

< 57 >

DAISY CALLOWAY

How I ended up in the back cabin with all the couches, alone with Lo and his father, I have no idea. We have two hours left of the flight, and my mom wanted to go talk to my dad, and everyone kind of shuffled around. I think Rose is announcing her pregnancy to our parents.

Jonathan pours a glass of whiskey and sits back next to Lo while I sprawl out on the other couch, a monogrammed burgundy blanket covering my legs. HALE in black lettering. I braid my hair for the twentieth time, bored and anxious.

I learned that my dad wants to “get to know” Ryke. Jonathan mentioned that, so my dad made him stay up front with everyone else.

I’d join them, but my mom is in there.

So here I remain.

Jonathan looks to his son. “You need to send me your sales report for Halway Comics by next weekend. I need to know if you’re driving the fucking thing into the ground.”

“It’s been slow,” Lo says. “I took a month off for the road trip.”

“That’s your goddamn fault,” he refutes. “You’re running a business now. You can’t afford to take month-long vacations.”

“Connor took the same time off,” Lo defends.

“And he’s running a multi-billion dollar company with a staff of thousands. You don’t even have an assistant. Christ, you don’t even have an annoying assistant, the kind that screws up coffee orders and likes to share personal life stories that you don’t give a fuck about.”

This is why Lo doesn’t come to Sunday family luncheons with Lily. He gets berated and my sister either gets ignored or scolded. I don’t blame them for skipping.

“It’s called initiative,” Jonathan says after he takes a pretty giant swig of whiskey, without grimacing. And then his eyes fix on me, realizing that I’ve been watching. He stands. “Daisy—I think you and I should have a talk.” He sits on the couch next to me. “Loren, can you give us a minute?”

Lo frowns deeply. “Why do you need to talk to her?”

I’ve never had a conversation alone with Jonathan Hale. I don’t think I ever needed to.

“She’s dating my son.”

Lo doesn’t move. He’s twenty-four and wears anger like a weapon. It almost makes me shrink back, but he’s on my side of things. If anything, I should be recoiling from Jonathan, right?

“I’d like to talk to her alone,” Jonathan repeats.

I’m confused. I don’t know what to do because my boyfriend doesn’t talk to his father, so even entertaining the idea of listening to Jonathan kind of feels like a betrayal. Should I cold-shoulder Jonathan too? In solidarity? I don’t know how this works.

These are deep waters that I actually need help swimming in.

“I’m not leaving her alone with you,” Lo snaps.

“Stop being a little—”

“If Ryke found out that you talked to her in private, he’d kill you. So think of it as me doing you a favor.” Lo crosses his arms.

Jonathan rolls his eyes and then focuses his attention back on me. I sit up and tuck my legs to my chest. His eyes fall to the saying on my shirt, and his lips rise in amusement. “How long have you and Ryke been dating?”

“A little over a month.”

I have to remind myself that I’ve known Jonathan since I was a little girl. He’s even Poppy’s godfather.

Jonathan tilts his head at me. “Your father is warming up to that timeframe, but your mother seems to think you’ve had a relationship long before that.”

I’m not surprised that she believes that. The tabloids have been throwing out those rumors for a while. “She’s wrong. Ryke wouldn’t ever be with someone underage.” Even me.

“I know,” Jonathan says, surprising me. “Ryke’s a lot of things: stubborn, hardheaded, foul-mouthed.” He stares at his glass. “But he’s made it clear that he’ll never follow in my footsteps.” He washes back the liquor.

Lo tenses on the couch, and his eyes briefly flicker to me. I know the truth, what Jonathan is talking about, like the rest of my family, but it’s different airing it out like this.

Twenty-four years ago, Jonathan had an affair with an underage girl.

Lo’s mom.

The press doesn’t even know the identity of Lo’s mother. It’s what’s kept Jonathan out of jail.

“Is that all you wanted to ask?” I wonder. “Whether or not Ryke was with me before I turned eighteen?”

“That and I wanted to know if you could talk to Ryke for me. I’d like to have dinner with him next weekend, catch up. You’re welcome to come too. The more the merrier.” He almost takes another sip of his drink, but he realizes his glass is empty. But he doesn’t stand to refill it again.

I glance at Lo. I don’t know what to say.

Lo suddenly rises from the other couch. “Dad, I’d like to talk to you alone.”

“Well we all can’t have what we want, can we? I said I’d like to talk to Daisy alone, and you mouthed off to me. So I will kindly do the same to you. Cheers.” He raises his empty glass.

My heart thuds. I’ve never, in my life, been in a room alone with the two of them. And from what I’ve heard, it can get nasty.

Lo turns his head, his eyes hitting mine. “Give us a minute, Daisy.”

I stand to leave, but Jonathan destroys my chance to escape. “Don’t be ridiculous, stay. My son doesn’t dictate when I speak to people.”

I freeze.

Lo glowers. “I know what you’re doing. And it’s not going to work, so just stop.”

Jonathan raises his brows and leans back against the couch, his arms outstretching over the top. He waves him on. “Please, Loren, tell me what I’m doing. Enlighten me, since you think I’m so dimwitted.”

Lo grinds his teeth.

Jonathan just smiles and says, “I’m waiting.”

“You can’t use her to get to him,” Lo retorts. “Just leave her alone.”

“Is that it?” Jonathan asks.

Lo stays quiet.

His dad straightens up on the seat. “Let me educate you, Loren,” he says, “when there are paths to be taken to achieve a goal, real men don’t stare at them with their cock in their hands. They take the goddamn path whether it fucking works or not.” He points at him with his finger. “And I will do everything I possibly can to get my son back, just as I would do for you.”

The first half of that speech makes me cringe, and the second makes me reevaluate the first half. Now I can see why it’s confusing having him as a father. I don’t know whether to run away or stay and hear him out.

Lo looks at me again. “Go, Daisy.”

“Stay,” Jonathan snaps, his voice harsher after all the booze. His gaze heats on Lo. “You’re a goddamn terrible listener.”

“You know what, so are you,” Lo sneers. “Because if you’d listen to anything I’ve been telling you or what Ryke has said, you’d know that he’ll hate you if you bring her into this shit. You can’t be forgiven for that. So I’m helping you. Open your goddamn ears.” He turns around and grabs my wrist, tugging me into one of the plane’s bedrooms.

“Loren!” Jonathan yells, but Lo just shuts the door and locks it—truly closing his father out.

It makes me nervous that he’d switch the lock—that somewhere, he’d fear his dad rushing in and doing what? Cold blows through me, and I shiver.

Lo stares down at me and says, “This is about the hundredth reason why I don’t want you dating my older brother.”

“I’ll be able to handle it,” I say. “It’s not like my parents make Ryke feel warm and welcome.”

Lo shakes his head. “Greg’s third-degree and my father’s are not even comparable, so don’t try.”

I realize this is the first moment I’ve been alone with Lo since he learned about my relationship with Ryke. “I love him, you know? I’ve been with a lot of awful guys, and he’s the only one that’s ever made me happy.”

Lo stares at me for a long moment and then a knock on the door makes me flinch back. The knob jiggles. We both stiffen, and then a rough voice calls through the wood, “Fucking let me in, Lo.”

I relax as Lo unlocks the door, and Ryke scans his brother’s features quickly before turning to me. I hear the door shut, and Ryke hugs me to his chest immediately, his hand on the top of my head.

“Was she left alone with him?” Ryke asks Lo.

“No, I was there.”

“Just you two?”

“Yeah, it was fine,” Lo says. “Nothing happened.”

“Then why the fuck did I hear Dad scream your name at the top of his lungs?”

I look up and Ryke’s dark gaze focuses on his brother, but he keeps holding me like if he lets go something bad may happen.

“We had a disagreement,” Lo says, sitting on the edge of the bed. He rubs his eyes like he’s just tired from everything.

“About Daisy?” Ryke frowns. “Or about me?”

“Both.”

Ryke’s eyes flash murderously. “He needs to leave her out of our family shit.”

“You need to talk to him or else he’s going to bring her in it.”

“Fuck,” Ryke curses. He lets out a deep breath and then he looks down at me. “You okay?”

I nod. “Yeah.” I give him a smile. “I get all of you, right? This is just another part.”

“This isn’t a fucking part I wanted to give you, ever.”

“Something we agree on,” Lo chimes in with a half-smile. And then all of a sudden, a body stirs underneath a mass of pillows and blankets. Lo turns his head and pats what I guess are feet.

Lily sits up like she rose from the dead, rubbing her eyes and stretching. The way Lo is watching her—it’s like he’s witnessing daylight for the first time. It makes me smile because their love is so transparent, and it immediately slices through any awkward tension that clung to the air.

She sees us and smiles shyly. “Oh hey. What’d I miss?”

“I talked to Ryke’s dad,” I tell her.

Her eyes bug out. “Whaaa…”

“It was interesting,” I say with a small shrug.

“What a weird day,” Lily says. I think that defines the whole situation very nicely. She whispers in Lo’s ear, and he nods, whispering back, and then they both turn to look at me, their expressions morphing into something serious and real. Lo nods and says, “Welcome to the family.”

The words hit me straight in the heart. For so long I considered Lo a part of my family; even though he had his dad, even though he’s a Hale, he always felt like an extension of Lily. A Calloway.

Now I’m starting to think that maybe all this time it’s been the other way around, and I’ve just been too narrow-sighted to see it. Lily’s always been a part of his family.

The Hales.

They’re kind of fucked up.

< 58 >

RYKE MEADOWS

We survived the fucking plane ride. It’s another accomplishment that I can tack on with my climb—even if Samantha Calloway can’t look me in the eyes.

Behind me, Daisy playfully bites my shoulder, climbing down the plane’s stairs, straight onto the private runway. We’re the last off.

I glance back at her, and she’s smiling so fucking bright that it’s hard not to share it.

“You look happy,” I say.

“I’m not just happy,” she tells me. “I’m fucking happy.”

I kiss the top of her head and step onto the cement. The overcast sky darkens the airport. We follow our parents and our friends towards two parked black Escalades and one limo. Nola, the Calloway’s driver, opens the Escalade’s door.

“Congratulations again, Rose,” Samantha says, kissing her daughter’s cheeks. “If Connor’s too busy to go to any of your doctor’s appointments, you call me. I’ll be there.”

Rose gives her a tight smile, which is polite for Rose’s fucking standards. And then her mom disappears inside the Escalade.

Greg gives Connor a hug before he climbs into the car behind Samantha. They leave first, and Connor says to Rose, “I’m not missing your doctor’s appointments.”

“Thank God.” She lets out a breath.

“Thank me, darling.”

She glares at him, and he stares at her like he’d enjoy taking her in his limo and fucking her hard. I just shake my head and then turn to my brother. “Daisy and I are going to call a cab.”

“Nonsense,” my dad says, still here apparently. He walks over to me and then gestures to Anderson, his driver that has opened the backdoor of the second Escalade. “I’m headed to Philly. I can drop you both off at your apartment complex.”

Daisy watches my expression, and I shake my head at my dad.

“It’ll save gas,” he says dryly. He flashes a half-smile, one that reminds me of Lo.

My brother, Lily, Connor and Rose just stay and witness the disagreement, waiting for me to make a fucking decision.

I don’t think long about it. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m going to call a fucking cab.”

But I have no real time to even take out my cellphone. At that same moment, another car drives up on the runway. As soon as I get a good look at it, my face hardens, my shoulders lock, and my heart fucking drops.

“What…” Daisy’s voice pitches with fear.

The vehicle rolls to a stop beside the Escalade, blue lights flashing silently on the roof. A police officer emerges, his eyes locked on me, confirming my gut feeling.

I’m about to go to jail.

“What’s going on?” Lo asks, looking to our father for answers.

My dad’s brows furrow, and I see the confusion all over his face. He didn’t know about this. The officer approaches me with a stern gait, and Daisy holds tightly onto my hand, refusing to let go.

“Daisy,” Rose calls, stepping towards her, but Connor forces his wife back with an outstretched arm.

“Lily, keep Rose here,” he orders.

“Richard—” Rose refutes.

“Let me handle it,” Connor says calmly. Rose backs down, and Lily does as she’s told, grabbing Rose’s hand and keeping her by her side, away from whatever the fuck is about to happen.

“What’s going on?” my brother asks the officer again.

He answers by stopping right in front of me. “Ryke Meadows?”

“Yeah.” I don’t know why he fucking asks whether it’s me. He knows it is.

Then the officer takes out handcuffs, and I hear a car door shut. I look up, and a second police officer is coming as back up.

I immediately shake off Daisy’s hand. “You need to go with Connor,” I tell her. He’s already walking towards Daisy to take her home.

“No.” Daisy shakes her head repeatedly, and I think we both know what this is about and where this is headed.

“Yes,” I growl. “This isn’t up for fucking discussion. You’re going home with them. I’ll see you later.”

“You did nothing wrong,” she tells me, tears welling. Connor puts a hand on her shoulder and starts guiding her backwards towards his limo. “You did nothing wrong!”

Doesn’t fucking matter.

“Ryke Meadows,” the first officer says, ignoring Daisy, “you’re under arrest for statutory rape—”

Daisy bursts into tears. “No!” she cries like someone stabbed her heart. My face contorts in pain as I watch her, knowing she’s blaming herself for putting me here. But it’s not her fucking fault.

“You have the right to remain silent….” I can’t hear anything else. My ears buzz. All the happiness that I saw in Daisy just completely snuffs out in a fucking instant. She tries to rush over to me, but Connor grabs her around the waist, forcing her back. She sobs, and I can’t do a fucking thing. I just have to stand here and watch.

I clench my teeth so hard that my jaw fucking aches. The officer comes behind me and aggressively pulls my arms to my lower back. My strained muscles burn as he cuffs one of my wrists and then the other.

I’m fairly certain I know who called the cops on me. The woman who couldn’t meet my eyes for the last half of the flight. The woman who threatened me with this very fucking thing in Daisy’s bedroom.

“…in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney—”

“He didn’t fucking do anything!”

That’s not Daisy.

That’s my brother. He’s defending me. My stomach twists, filled with too much emotion to speak, to move just yet.

“If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you—”

The officer doesn’t stop, not even for Lo. The second one comes forward to steer me to the police car.

“HEY!” Lo shouts, about to fucking lose it. “Did you not fucking hear me?!” He steps between the second officer, blocking him from the cop car.

“Lo,” I cut in, my heart hammering. I’m more fucking scared for him even though I’m the one cuffed right now. My brother doesn’t need to be thrown in a jail cell with me.

The second officer glares at Lo. “You need to step out of the way or we’re going to have to take you in too.”

“He’s a good person!”

My father is still here. “Loren, don’t be an idiot.” He motions for Lo to join him by the Escalade.

“Off of what evidence are you taking him in?” Lo sneers at the officer.

“You need to step out of the way, sir,” the second officer repeats.

“Lo,” I say, instinctively trying to walk over to him, to reach him, to pull him in the right fucking direction. Which would be very far away from me. I jerk to a stop, being held by the first officer, his hands on the cuffs that detain me.

“I guess you’re just going to have to take me in then,” Lo says, his eyes pulsing with rage. “Because I’m not fucking moving.”

Fucking hell. I rip out of the first officer’s hold. “Lo, fucking stop!” I shout. Our dad reaches him before I do. He takes Lo by the arm and tugs him to the side, out of the way.

And then the first officer forces me to the fucking ground, my face hitting the pavement hard. Pain shoots through my body.

“Resisting arrest,” the first officer says.

“Don’t be so stupid!” our dad yells at my brother.

I grit my teeth, and the police officer puts his knee on my back. He says something to me about settling down, but I’m not even fucking moving anymore. Loose gravel embeds in my cheek, and I look out and see Daisy on her knees, Connor crouched behind her, whispering in her ear.

She’s crying like this is the end of us. Her grief is like a thousand knives inside my stomach. The police officer jerks me to my feet with unkind force, and he pushes me towards the car. I pass my father and my brother.

Lo takes a step forward to intervene again.

I shake my head at him.

“You didn’t do anything,” he says, his eyes reddened, his cheekbones sharpened like fucking ice.

I nod at him, forced to keep walking to the white and blue vehicle. I can’t speak. I can’t say a fucking word.

Not until I climb into the backseat of the car, not until the door slams and the tires roll down the road—do I scream.

All the emotion I restrained for my brother, for Daisy, comes pouring out of me. I could kick the door. I could punch something if I had use of my hands. But instead, I just scream, releasing the anguish that rips apart my insides.

I just completed the Yosemite Triple Crown.

I just accomplished a lifelong dream.

I had Daisy.

I was fucking happy.

And now I’m here.

Cuffed.

Arrested.

Going to jail.

I’m going to jail.