Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 150546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 753(@200wpm)___ 602(@250wpm)___ 502(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 150546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 753(@200wpm)___ 602(@250wpm)___ 502(@300wpm)
Leaning back against the window, I kick off my Louis Vuitton slippers and cross my legs. The kitchen is far enough away from the family room that we can see if anyone is coming. I know it’s just her and I in this moment.
“I don’t really want to go there, because if I do…” I drift off over her shoulder, losing my thoughts on the photo hanging on the wall beside the fridge. It was a winter holiday in Aspen. We would have been ten, and everyone was there. I think it was the last time we saw Luna.
“Halie!” Tillie’s fingers snap in my face to get my attention, and I’m back in the kitchen with her, the candy smoke of marijuana blowing into my face.
“What?”
“I said we don’t have to go there if she’s already in this house…” She hands me the blunt and I take it.
“How did you know?”
Tillie leans back on her hands, her head tilting to the side. “Let’s just say that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
I choke on my inhale, fist banging on my chest. Squinting around the smoke, I hand it back to her. “You too?”
She slips it from my fingers. “Oh, sister. You have no idea.”
“Perdita was rightfully yours, was it not?” I ask, searching her eyes. I hadn’t heard much, but what I did hear was that Tillie could have taken Perdita all those years ago because of her bloodline. Everyone thought she was just an average hang-a-long to Mom, but she wasn’t. She was a queen. “Why didn’t you take it?”
“Because she wanted my King too.” She leans forward, squashing out the blunt. “Are you going to allow her prodigy the same?”
I think over her words. If she had said this to me a couple weeks ago, I probably would have blushed. Nothing was going on between him and I but what was on the surface. Now I know that I have to say something. I can’t brush it off. “There’s nothing between War and I.”
She ponders a moment. “Honey…”
I swallow roughly, but the splinters from my rib cage fracturing are stuck in my throat. “It’s hopeless, is what I mean.” I’ve never outwardly expressed my interest in War. The sex? Whatever. Sex to us is a game. A tool. We don’t dive too deep into it, but this is something else. I’ve never shown my vulnerability toward him. Has he been gentle with me growing up, during the times I needed? Yes. One hundred times over yes. But more so recently, I’ve seen the shadow side to him, and the more I stepped in, the further he stepped out. It is a classic game of cat and mouse.
The breath I take feels like a knife in the heart. “I guess in simple terms, the boy I fell in love with doesn’t exist.”
The corners of her eyes fall. She’s the only one out of the mothers who has never touched Botox or plastic surgery. Aunty Saint only dabbled with Botox, but my mother… well. Vanity. There’s nothing wrong with it. I know for sure I’d be freezing my face as soon as I see a wrinkle. Mom would always add that she’d go out exactly as she’d been played like.
Like a toy. Plastic.
Their inside jokes never made a lot of sense to any of us and I kind of don’t want to know what they mean, since I’m almost certain they had all kind of slept together. Happy families and all.
“Halen.” My eyes drift to hers. “You don’t have to be that person around me. I know there’s a lot of pressure with being Bishop’s daughter and a Hayes in general, but with me, you can just be a twenty-year-old young woman who is confused about who she loves.”
“It was an accident.” The words burn my throat like I swallowed cyanide. “I shouldn’t have fallen in love with him, Tillie. Somehow, somewhere along the journey, I did. I gave him my whole-ass heart without realizing, and now, the only person in this entire world who can break it doesn’t actually have one himself.”
She pauses a moment, her brows lifting just enough to show her surprise. Her shoulders relax as she places her hand on my knee. “He does. I know he does. I’m by no means making excuses for him, because you know you’re my girl, but in this world, you know how it is. We go by a different set of rules than other people. He may not show it the conventional way—” Ya think? "—but it only makes the love that we all share that much more special. It’s the kind of love that survives shit. To love a beast, you must be a beast. Unless you’re Saint, then you better fuck like one.”
We both burst out laughing and it doesn’t die out until my chest burns and tears have dampened my cheeks. I probably shouldn’t have said all that. Fuck.