“Don’t forget his true colors,” Poppy warned. “All of them are shades of black. He’s the same guy who bullied you at school, dragged you into the janitor’s room to look at him getting a blow job, and then did it again on the last day of school.”
I remembered those things all too well. I even had a retaliation plan in place.
“A-ny-way,” she drawled, “Have an amazing day, Lenny. Hug that teddy bear for me, yeah?” she teased when I failed to produce any more words about Vaughn. “All my love. Mwah. Cheerio.”
I hung up the phone and slipped into my black skinny jeans, an Anti Social Social Club hoodie, and my Gladstone sneakers. I headed to my father’s office, before I lost the guts to do it.
I hadn’t spoken to him in weeks—not since I found out he knew I’d be sitting around here doing nothing for six months, and still recommended I accept the position. He and Vaughn had made me look like an idiot, and I was worried I’d lash out at him. But I figured if I didn’t go talk to him, we weren’t going to talk at all.
My legs grew heavy as rocks with each step I took toward his office. The air seemed to sear my lungs. I knew, logically, that I had every right to confront him. I needed to shake off the weird notion that my father was too important to deal with my problems and feelings. Wasn’t that what I’d always done? Pushed myself out of the picture to make things easier for him?
That’s okay, Papa, I’ll stay here in Carlisle so you can focus on your job in America.
It’s fine I didn’t get the internship. I’d love to be Vaughn Spencer’s assistant.
Oh, don’t worry about me. I’ll just marry my work so you don’t have to carry the burden of any potential heartbreak or boy drama, or really, anything that might put you in the slightest discomfort.
Suddenly I realized I wasn’t much different from Poppy. We’d both slid to the sidelines of our father’s life to make sure he was comfortable. Poppy simply looked the part, with her cute cardigans and groomed looks, while I did it by wearing black lipstick.
By the time I stood in front of his office door, I was so riled up, fire licked at the walls of my stomach, rising to my throat. I curled my fist and raised it to the wood, about to knock, when the door flew open and out came Arabella.
She looked flustered, red, confused as she closed it behind her. She shouldered past me and ran down the hallway.
When she realized who she’d shoved aside, she stopped, turned around, and raised her open hand, signaling me not to talk.
She opened her mouth, about to say something nasty, no doubt, when Uncle Harry breezed into the hallway from his office on the opposite side of the floor, holding a thick batch of files under his arm. The showdown between us gave him pause, and he frowned.
“Ladies.”
“Mr. Fairhurst.” I nodded politely.
It didn’t matter that I’d grown up in his lap and spent every Christmas and Easter at his Hertfordshire mansion. In school, I gave him the respect he deserved. Arabella, however, yawned provocatively, refusing his eye contact.
“Do we have a problem here?” He looked between us.
Arabella flashed him one of her Colgate smiles, which was faker than her lashes. “No problem at all.”
He turned around and went about his day. I turned around to face her.
“What were you doing in there?” I pointed at Papa’s office.
It was one thing that he kept choosing Vaughn over me. But to consider he was so fond of Arabella that he mentored her in his office made me sick to my stomach.
Unless he called her in to tell her to pack her shit and leave.
But somehow, I knew it simply wasn’t my luck to get rid of her. Blood ran hot in my veins. I wanted to lash out and yell at her.
“Oh, I think we both know what I was doing in there.” She cocked a defying eyebrow.
My eyes widened so much I was surprised they didn’t roll onto the floor. What was she insinuating, exactly?
“If you have something to say, you better say it.”
“I just did. You’re so deep in denial, you just refused to listen.”
“Break it down for me.” I smiled cheerfully, ignoring her snark. “And use simple words. Romanian is my first language, after all.”
Vampire.
Though it had been her joke, the reference flew over her head like a kite. I could see it in the vacant, Barbie-doll expression plastered on her pretty face.
“I’m sleeping with your dad.”
I stood there like an idiot, feeling my nostrils flaring. Self-pity consumed me, and the stupidest thought floated into my mind. Why on my birthday?
Why, indeed. Why did I find out about this on my birthday? Why here, in the place I’d grown up. Why my father, who I looked up to, put on a pedestal, and treated like a god? Was it a wonder I was so drawn to Vaughn Spencer? Maybe it was in my DNA to fall blindly for the ones I wasn’t worthy of.
Arabella strutted toward me, picking up a lock of my blonde hair and examining it between her fingers. “Jeez, Lenny, didn’t your boyfriend, Vaughn, tell you he caught me slipping from your dad’s bedroom?”
What?
I sucked in a breath, but remained silent.
She shrugged, hmmphing. “Guess there’s little talking on the agenda when his dick is in your mouth all night.”
I was going to kill—no, demolish him.
My mind screamed on repeat: Payback, payback, payback.
But what I had planned for him wasn’t nearly enough.
I swallowed, still weighing my next words. She pouted, her hand moving from my hair to the collar of my hoodie.
“I’m so sorry.” She sighed melodramatically. “I was sure he’d give you the heads-up, at least. Guess you really are just another seasonal hole, honey.”
“You’re mad,” I croaked, my voice too hoarse to be recognizable, “that he’s not with you.”
She scrunched her nose, like I’d said something gross.
“You think I wanted to come here because of Spencer? He’s just a kid, and legit a sociopath. Now your dad, that’s a different ballgame. We’re getting pretty serious, actually, so you might wanna try to be nicer to me. You know, for the future of your trust fund. I’m sure there’s a lot of vampire shit you want to buy, not to mention all your stupid books. Wait, you wouldn’t mind calling me Mummy, would you?” She mimicked a very bad English accent.
I lost it.
I simply lost it.
I grabbed the hem of her low-cut blouse, twisting it in my fist and smashing her against the wall opposite to my father’s door. I got in her face, snarling.
“You’re lying.”
“Am I? Two sordid visits in forty-eight hours. Doesn’t look too good.”
“Arabella,” I warned.
“Mummy to you.” She laughed.
My hand flew from her collar to her neck, squeezing. I couldn’t help myself. It scared me how little control I had over my emotions, my actions. I couldn’t believe she’d said that word. Mummy. It was so sacred to me. What did she know about orphans? Both of her parents were alive. They’d bought her way here.
I realized Arabella hadn’t stopped bullying me. She just played a different, more destructive game here.
Slept with Dad.
Sucked Vaughn off.
Tried to burn my house down.
Why? Why? Why?
I was a firm believer in the “bad person, good reason” approach. To be doing things like that, she had to have a motive. But I wasn’t feeling sympathetic just now.
“Know what the best part is? I figured you out a long time ago. You pretend to be all tough and dark.” Arabella pushed me back, and I almost crashed against Papa’s office door. Almost. “But honestly? You’re just your daddy’s little puppet. You’ll never confront him about me, about anything. You’re scared shitless of him. Look how he screwed you over with that internship. I mean, dayum.” She shook her head, snorting. “I might be the one lying on my back getting dicked, but Daddy Astalis sure fucks you over—”
She didn’t get the chance to complete the sentence. I grabbed her hair and dragged her down the hall, somewhere he wouldn’t be able to hear through his door.
She wasn’t wrong, but she was about to be.
I craved my father’s approval and dreaded confronting him. But her revelation changed everything. He wasn’t a martyr who’d sworn off women after Mum. He was a cradle snatcher, a perv who slept with teenagers.
God. No. Not you, Dad.
She protested with little whines, but by the time she started screaming, I’d shoved Arabella into Uncle Harry’s office, which I knew was empty, and disposed of her on the floor. She was a bit bigger than me, but I was feisty and had enough adrenaline to kill three grown men.
Perched on the floor, her back to Harry’s desk, Arabella laughed and laughed and laughed. There was a crazy zing with her eyes. And sadness. I could smell loss from across the room, and she’d experienced it.
“I can’t get over how much people don’t give a damn about you, girl. Your boyfriend didn’t even tell you he caught me with your dad. He’d have probably stuck his dick in my mouth if my jaw wasn’t busy pleasuring Papa Astalis. Your dad prefers your boyfriend to you. Your best friend, Pope, had to beg people to go to your surprise birthday party because nobody likes you…”
She trailed off, knowing exactly what she was doing, then pressed her fingers over her mouth, raising her eyebrows in false embarrassment.