I trail off, because my thoughts are a jumbled mess. Somehow in the Royal boys’ minds, their mother’s death and Steve’s involvement are all tangled up, and I’m a convenient—and living—target. There’s nothing I can do that will change their opinion. I see that now. Still, I asked for the truth, and I won’t blame Callum for this.
“Thank you,” I say in a wobbly voice. “I appreciate you being straight with me.” I could be completely virtuous and they’d still hate me. I could be Abby-like and…a thought pops into my mind and out of my mouth before I can stop it. “What was Maria like?”
“Sweet. She was sweet, kind. Just a smidge over five feet and the soul of an angel.” He smiles, and in that instant I know he loved Maria. I’ve seen that kind of true love glow only once before—in the eyes of my own mother. She didn’t have all her shit together, but she loved me.
Maria inspired the same love in her sons. That Abby is her replica and the opposite of everything I’m made of shouldn’t bother me, but it does, because as much as I hate admitting it, the truth is I want Reed to feel that way about me.
Which is about the stupidest sentiment I have ever conjured up.
19
Reed doesn’t look at me the entire trip back to shore or when we arrive home. His brooding silence speaks loudly enough. He’s furious and going to stay that way for a good long while.
I beg off dinner citing sunstroke, because there’s no way I can endure an entire meal with Reed either ignoring I exist or needling me at every opportunity.
I know I brought this on myself, but when even Easton scowls as I’m heading up to my room, I wonder if I made a mistake.
“I thought you weren’t going to screw my dad,” he hisses as I pass by him in the hall.
“I didn’t. I just wanted Reed to think I did.” When Easton still looks doubtful, I let out a sigh. “All Callum and I did was talk about Steve.” And your mom, but I figure Easton wouldn’t appreciate that in his current mood.
He’s not pacified one bit by my confession. “Don’t play games with my brother. You’ve got him worked up and now he’s gonna have to get it out of his system.”
I blanch. “What do you mean?” I ask but dread the answer. He’s running to Abby? That makes me want to puke all over Easton’s deck shoes.
“Never mind.” He waves me off. “You two should either screw or stay away from each other. Staying away from each other is my vote.”
“Noted.” I start to open my bedroom door but Easton grabs my arm.
“I’m serious. If you need someone, just come to me. I don’t mind you so much.”
Ugh. I’m done with these Royal boys. “Gosh, Easton. That’s so generous. Does your pity sex offer have an expiration date? Or is it a coupon I can use whenever I feel like it?”
I stomp into my bedroom and slam the door in his confused face. It’s early, but I decide to go to bed because I have to be at the bakery before the sun rises and then school, and there isn’t a person in this house that I want to talk to right now.
I crawl under the covers and force myself to fall asleep, but I drift in and out, rousing at every door slam and foot stomp outside my bedroom.
In the late night hours, I hear furious whispering in the hall. The same furious whispering I heard the other night. Easton and Reed are arguing about something. I check the time. It’s about the same time too—just after midnight.
“I’m going,” Reed says flatly. “Last time you were pissed I wouldn’t let you come and now you’re whining when I invite you?”
Oh, that’s a guaranteed button pusher.
“Hey, excuse me for worrying that your head’s so far up your ass, you won’t see a fist coming,” Easton snaps back. Yup. Buttons pushed.
“At least I’m not panting after Steve’s daughter.”
“Yeah right,” Easton says derisively. “Because that’s why I found you nearly naked and tied to a chair. Because you don’t want Ella at all.”
They move off far enough down the hall that I can’t hear Reed’s full response but it sounds something like, “I’d rather bang Jordan than stick my dick in that trap.”
My anger has me tossing the covers aside and shooting out of bed. Those two have secrets that they don’t want me to know about? Well, if I’m in a war here at the Royal house, I need all the ammunition I can get.
I rush to the closet and throw on the first thing I touch, which turns out to be a miniskirt. Not the perfect creeper clothes, but I don’t have time to waste. I jump into the skirt and pull on a T-shirt, then push my feet into my sneakers and creep out of my bedroom as quietly as possible.
I tiptoe down the back stairs. There’s no one in the kitchen but I hear faint noises outside. A car door slams. Shit. I need to hurry. Luckily, the twins leave clothes, keys, wallets, and all kinds of junk down in the mudroom all the time.
I race across the kitchen to the connected mudroom and grab the first hoodie I find. There are keys and a wad of cash in the front pocket. Perfect. Ducking down beneath the window in the door, I peek out and see the taillights of Reed’s Range Rover blinking down the drive.