High Stakes (The Kingdom Book 2) (23 page)

“A rose. Every day a rose,” I say, mesmerized by the red flower. A simple red flower. He was there all along. He nods in agreement as a fresh wave of nausea hits me.

“Well, are you going to take it?” He pushes the long stemmed flower in my direction once more and I narrow my eyes at him.
 

“Screw you.”

He tips his head back and laughs, before he spots Beth coming back in our direction. His composure slips over him like mercury. Fast and efficient.

“You really are a stupid beautiful girl,” he whispers as I hear Beth’s heels approaching across the marble floor.

“Here, water. Don’t you think you should sit, Arianna? You’re very pale,” Beth says offering me a glass of water with a concerned look on her face.

“I’m fine, really. I have things I should be getting back to.”

“No, you don’t. Not today. You go home, I’ll finish up here.”

“It’s fine, I—”

“Go,” she orders, before turning and placing a hand on Jonny’s arm. “James, I’m sorry to have kept you. Let’s get you fitted.”

I stand and watch them, mesmerized. I’m amazed at how my old life seems to have entwined itself with my new life. Beth is clearly very friendly with Jonny, or James as she calls him. And I wonder just how long he has been coming here to her, to purchase his clothes. He’s always dressed well. He’s always liked the finer things in life. Outward appearances have always been of the utmost importance. Maybe Beth had been in the background of my life for longer than I knew.

COMMANDO WASN’T KEEN
when I said I wanted to walk home. It makes it harder for him to do his job, apparently. But seeing as he let the one person that he was trying to keep from me, slip through his net, I’d say he’s failed miserably already without even knowing.

I needed the time and fresh air. I needed to think things through. To try and process the few words that came from Jonny’s poisoned lips. Knowing that he loads each one with a kick makes it harder for me to decipher than a tomb full of hieroglyphics.

By the time I make it to the large glass doors, I still don’t have it all figured out.

Do I tell Denham or do I keep it to myself?

Do I continue as normal or figure out some kind of plan?

A plan to do what? I’ve already decided I’m not going to run from him. I’ve got more to lose than I’ve ever had before, which is why I’ll stand and fight.

So, will it even make any difference, other than to make Denham’s life harder and add to his worry, if I tell him about today?

One thing’s for sure, commando’s life wouldn’t be worth living. Granted, he stopped the delivery guy from getting through. But that just pushed the rat out of his hole.

The walk through the foyer and the ride up to the penthouse goes by in a mind-spinning blur and before I know it, I’m at the door with my key card hovering above the slot. Commando one, hands over to commando two, or it could be commando three, I can’t even tell them apart and I don’t even care. But whatever they are saying, I don’t hear them. The flash of the green light indicating the door is unlocked jars a decision from me that I’m not going to tell Denham. The deep worry he is already dealing with regarding Tara is enough for him to think about. Add to that, running The Kingdom, and I really don’t think he needs extra problems to fret over. Besides, I’m handling it. Aren’t I?

“Hello,” I call out.

“We’re in here,” Denham calls back from the spare room. I dump my purse and kick off my heels before crossing the room. The door is only just ajar and I hover in the doorway before I push it open.

“For the last fucking time, Tara, tell me what you took …”

“I already told you, D. I didn’t take anything. I didn’t even have much to drink. Two bottles of beer. Max.”

“Do you think I was always thirty-four years old, T? Do you not think I was young and stupid, and made up excuses for poor decisions? I can see through your bullshit lies. Two bottles of beer does not put you in the state you were in this morning.”

Denham’s voice gets louder and more strained and Tara sounds exasperated trying to say her piece. Both of them are going around and around in circles but neither of them are getting anywhere.

I push the door open and step in. “Hi,” I say quietly. Hoping a little calm serenity will ease the tension between these two. Denham stands by the window, his back to the room, running his hands through his hair the way he does when he feels like something is out of his control.

When he turns around he tries to smile at me but fails miserably. “Hi,” he puffs out.

“How are you feeling?” I ask Tara.

“Like shit,” she snaps.

“Hey. Don’t even think about being obnoxious to Arianna.” Denham spins in her direction and snaps at her, she looks down at her fingers that are twined in her lap.

“Sorry,” she whispers. “I feel like shit, thanks for asking. My head fucking hurts and it doesn’t help that my big brother keeps yelling at me.”

“Well, you look better than you did this morning.”

“You saw me this morning?”

“Ari was the one who saw you fall out of some asshole’s car, with your fucking skirt around your waist, looking like a tramp who did too much coke last night, and can’t even remember what or who she did.”

“Denham,” I scold, surprised at his tone. “That doesn’t help anyone. Why don’t you go and get everyone a drink? Coffee or something …”

He sighs, but doesn’t argue. He makes his way across the room with his shoulders dropped and his face set in tight lines. He kisses the top of my head as he walks past and when he’s out of the room, I get up and close the door quietly.

I come and sit next to Tara on the bed, placing my hand on her knee. “You’re really feeling better?”

“Yeah. I feel a bit queasy, and my head really fucking hurts. But I feel better than I did.”

“You wanna tell me what happened?”

“You gonna chew my ass out whatever I say?” she retorts like a belligerent teenager.

“No.” I smile. “He’s only like that because he cares.”

“I know.”

“So, what happened?”

“Ari, I don’t know. I remember having a beer in the tequila lounge after work. I ended up having two beers that I can remember. Then I end up here, in my brother’s spare room being yelled at for getting trashed, when I don’t even remember. I wouldn’t even mind if I had a fucking good time and remembered it all. That’s worth feeling like shit for!”

“You must have had more than two beers to get like that, Tara,” I chide. “Were you drinking alone? Did you do any drugs?” Her face turns thunderous and I hold my hands up. “I’m only asking because I need to know. It doesn’t matter what the answer is.”

“Yes, I was alone, and for the ten millionth fucking time today. No. No. And god damn mother fucking NO.” She rakes her hands through her unruly curls just like Denham does when he’s stressed.

“Okay, okay. I believe you. I just needed to ask.”

“You don’t know the full story, do you? He hasn’t told you, has he?”

“I beg your pardon?” I say, confused.

“You don’t know about me … my story.” She laughs, but it’s not because what she’s thinking is funny. “If you knew all about me and what a fucking loser I am, you wouldn’t believe a word I say. But it’s the truth. I’m telling the truth.”

She stands abruptly and stomps to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her. This is all a struggle. There’s too much going on today to process, and I have no idea how I’m going to make sense of it all.

I tap gently on the bathroom door. “Tara,” I probe softly, but there’s no response. “Please come out. I believe you, really, I do.”

“I’m peeing,” she grumbles which makes me snort with laughter.

“Well, then carry on …”

I stand with my shoulder leaned against the door frame, and it’s a minute before she opens up slowly. She sighs before she starts to speak. “I did a lot of stupid shit, Ari. After dad … And now I’m tarred with that brush and no one thinks I have my own mind.”

“Oh honey, I’m sure they do, it’s just because …”

“I know, I know. Because I’m the youngest. They all think I’m young and naive, and they all try to stop me from making mistakes. How am I supposed to live if I’m confined in bubble wrap and not allowed to find my own way?” She throws her hands to her sides in frustration.

“You know, if you’ve watched people do stupid shit in the past, and you worry about them doing it again, don’t you think that would make you a little more protective?”

She shrugs her shoulders like an errant teenager.

“Well, maybe it’s just going to take time.”

“It’s been three fucking years since he died, Ari.”

“I don’t mean time to heal from
that
. Time to realize that you are your own person. He only does it because he loves you. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see how much he adores you, your mom, and Spike. Besides, what has Denham given up for you?” I tilt my chin with a little defiance as I really want her to realize quite what my wonderful man has done for her since their dad died. I’m pretty sure it hit him just as hard as everyone else, but I don’t think he’s dealt with it. He hasn’t been given the chance to grieve, as he was thrown into running The Kingdom and keeping the family together.

“Denham?” she questions, screwing her nose up at my question.

“Yes. Denham. Your brother. Your big brother. The one that probably digs you out of the shit every time you get so deep in it you can’t see out.” She just frowns at me and as she thinks about it harder, I see her starting to realize where I’m coming from.

“He’s been nothing but the best, and I’m being a brat.” She drops her head and groans.

“He’s just doing what big brothers are supposed to do. He’s looking out for you guys. But, in Denham’s case, he’s looking out for the whole family, and running the family empire to honor your father’s name,” I say softly, not wanting to make her feel worse, just to clarify what she already knows but hadn’t acknowledged yet.

“Ugh. Has he gotten fed up of me and left yet?”

“No.” I wrap my arm around her shoulder and pull her into me. “Tara, he’s been here all day by your side. Right now he’s making us coffee.”

“So he’s not pissed at me?”

“No. Well, yes probably. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you. That’s why he does it. If he didn’t care, he wouldn’t yell at you, or worry about you, or stay by your side combing your hair.”

“He combed my hair?” she says quietly.

“Yes. I’m pretty sure he exceeded the strokes needed to make it shine.”

This comment makes her suck in a breath and her eyes start to glisten. “He’s the best, you know?”

“Yes. I know,” I reply with ease. Because he is the best.

“Would you be pissed at me if asked if I could stay here tonight?”

“Of course not! I would love it. What do you want to do?”

She shrugs. “Just hang out.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Mind if I go and give my big bro a hug?”

“Sure, but it’s my turn after you.”

“I won’t be hugging him quite like you do. Ewwww! I don’t even want my mind to go there!”

She slips out from under my shoulder, making a mock disgusted face in jest, and makes her way out of the room. She stops in the doorway before turning back to me. “Thanks, Ari,” she says, a sad smile on her face.