Consequences of Deception (9 page)

It’s tricky getting ready while avoiding looking at my eyes in the mirror, but I manage it. I’m mad at myself for being such a silly, stupid girl. I’ve been telling myself for years that I need to be completely over Killian, that I need to hate him and should never feel anything but disgust towards him again. So having my body betray me the way it did, as quickly as it did, is as humiliating as it is terrifying.

When I finish drying my hair I style it back in a French braid. My make-up is simply a touch of mascara and some lip-gloss. Just going in and out of Wal-Mart today has led me to understand that any heavier make-up is only going to melt in the humidity and since my skin is clear, I don’t need it anyway. Going through all of the new clothes, I choose a royal blue, strapless ankle-length dress that I pair with a tan colored belt. Once I put a new pair of flip-flops on I am officially ready to go. I stand at my bedroom door, holding a hand against my stomach as I take deep breaths and gather my courage. When I am fairly confident in my ability to stay composed, I open the door and step into the living room.

Killian is seated at the dining area table fooling around with an iPad. I’m not sure what to expect but I am pretty damn sure that he’ll say something crude or insulting to put me down so I have my guard up.

Acting as if his tongue wasn’t all over me just an hour ago, he sets the iPad down and slides it towards me.

“It’s all set up and ready to go and you’ve got iTunes and Kindle accounts, so buy whatever you want. I’m monitoring what you do on this so don’t even think about reaching out to Demi or any of your friends. In a few weeks, after the hubbub surrounding the closing of Evans dies down, you can talk to her until you’re blue in the face. Do you understand?”

I nod my head in understanding without looking him in the eye and leave it at that. Contact with the outside world isn’t on my agenda for the foreseeable future and I realize that Killian assumes that I want to be emailing or calling my friends, but he is way off base. I only have one true friend, Demi, and I don’t want to talk to her right now because I’m not ready to lie to her. Maybe in a few weeks I will have figured out a way to go along with this lie without having a nervous breakdown talking to her, but that time isn’t now.

We don’t say anything to each other after that, both of us choosing silence during the ride to the restaurant. I am relieved to see that it is packed, because that means the noise level is rather high. Luckily Killian has thought to make a reservation, so we are seated right away. We remain silent as we both peruse our menus and make our choices. After the waitress leaves our table, we sit in silence.

Ignoring Killian completely, I slip into my go-to distraction of people-watching. The restaurant is filled with a mix of couples and vacationing families, and I try to focus on guessing what the stories are of the people around us. Over the last four and a half years, people-watching has become my default escape when I’m in a social situation that I don’t want to be a part of.

Normally, I’m able to lose myself in the process, but tonight it isn’t working. Instead, I’m wondering what a people-watcher would make of Killian and me right now. Do they assume that we hate each other or do they think that we’re on a terrible first date? Against my will, my mind wanders back to the days when I’d always had something to say to Killian, back when we enjoyed each other’s company.

The memories hit me like tiny daggers, each one ripping through me and lodging deep. Once upon a time, I’d hung onto Killian’s every word and now he’s just another person that I’ve lost. Even knowing what a bastard he is now, my stupid heart breaks thinking about life before.

I’ve known Killian since I was seven and he was thirteen. Back then he’d been my super-smart but sort of dorky neighbor, but even then I had been drawn to him. Killian is a second-generation tech genius, so he could talk for hours about algorithms, source code and digital security, or he could create a computer game that would occupy my time for weeks. His father was one of the pioneers of the digital age, so it was no surprise that Killian knew his way around things. I really had no interest in his tech stuff, but I loved listening to him talk so passionately about it. To me, he was a dorky genius with mad skills, and I spent hours and hours with him hanging onto his every word while he taught me how to do things like a perfect backflip off the diving board in his backyard.

His sister, Shannon, was only a year older than me and she had been my idol in all things—fashion, beauty, brains and courage. Because Shannon and I were so close, I saw Killian more than I would have if he’d just been a regular neighbor. Killian and Shannon’s dad was always at work running the software empire that is Brandt Technology, and that left Killian in charge a lot of the time. I can’t even count the number of times that Killian was forced to watch over Shannon, Demi and me while we tore through his house, but he did it without too much complaining. Even later, when he had to give us rides to the mall and the movies, he never gave any indication that he felt burdened by it.

Killian was always there for me, no matter what. When my mom died, it was Killian who was my rock, holding onto my hand during the funeral and promising that everything would be okay. I loved him to death, but when I was fifteen—I fell in love with him. For me, there was no one else in the world as interesting, as perfect, as beautiful as Killian Brandt. I did a shit job at hiding my feelings, so of course he suspected. When my feelings became obvious a few months later, he told me that I was too young to know what, or who, I really wanted. He was kind but firm when he told me that I would grow out of it- And I’d politely told him to go pound sand.

He held me at arms length for a long time, but during my senior year of high school, I’d seen him rapidly losing the will to keep our relationship purely friendly, so I pounced. I wasn’t stupid; I knew it was the age difference that was holding him up, but I also knew that once I was eighteen he wasn’t going to fight the attraction anymore. The way he watched me was an aphrodisiac and there was no way I could have missed the heat in his eyes. Yes, there was an age difference, but Killian and I connected on a level that had nothing to do with age and everything to do with chemistry and fate.

The first night that I’d shown up in his pool, he’d fought it, but by the time I left he’d admitted that yes, he had feelings for me. Each successive visit after that saw us coming closer together, and on the final visit he’d told me that we would be together no matter what. I was so happy back then, so excited about getting through my senior year and turning eighteen. Every day that passed brought me one day closer to being Killian’s girl, and I floated on a cloud of euphoria and anticipation. Then everything went to shit and those dreams died a horrible death.

For ten years, Killian was an integral part of my life and I’d never in a million years have been able to predict that he’d turn on me the way that he did. We had been closer than close, family even, but he’d walked away without a word of explanation. The Killian that used to smile whenever he saw me has been replaced with a man that can’t stand to look at me.

I snap out of my trip down my memory lane as the food arrives. As hungry as I was when we sat down, the overwhelming silence between us is making me nauseous. The aroz con pollo I ordered is delicious, but I can only manage to choke down a third of the meal. Killian, on the other hand, eats almost his entire meal, all while continuing to completely ignore me, of course.

With the miserable meal now over, we make our way out of the restaurant to the parking lot. Pensacola in the summer is crowded and hot, yet all of the people around us are clearly very happy to be here. I wonder just how badly Killian and I stand out and then shrug it off. I’ve got bigger problems than worrying about what strangers think about me.

It’s a relief to get back to the resort. I plan on getting acquainted with the iPad Killian had given me before we went to dinner, because Lord knows that I need the distraction. By the time we get to our floor and enter the condo, I am long past ready to get away from him for the night.

Once I put my leftovers in the refrigerator, I grab the iPad from the table and retreat to my bedroom, closing the door behind me with a breath of relief. I grab one of my new sleep shirts and a pair of hot pink thigh-high fluffy socks. It’s an odd choice considering the heat outside, but Killian loves air conditioning like some people love chocolate so it’s cold as hell in here. With everything I need in hand, I head into the bathroom to get comfortable. I scrub my face and brush my teeth before throwing my hair up into a bun.

As I open the door to my bathroom and go to step into my bedroom, I come to a dead stop when I see Killian lounging on my bed. Wearing only a pair of black cotton pants, he has his hands behind his head and is watching something on the television. He is the very picture of relaxed and I want to throw something at him. Two seconds ago I was mostly calm. Now—I am in free-falling panic. The fact that he is here can only mean one thing; I’ve just seen my last day as a virgin.

I am frozen in the doorway, trying to figure out what I am supposed to do. Glancing lazily over at me, the smug bastard smirks. “Are you planning on standing there all night?”

I struggle to think of something—anything—to say. Finally, I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “What am I supposed to do now?”

As he sits up, he shakes his head at me in clear annoyance. “Get your ass onto this bed. That’s what you’re supposed to do now.”

The distance between the bathroom door and my bed feels as though it goes from several feet to a few inches. Each step I take closer to the bed makes me lightheaded. There is no avoiding it; this is really happening.

As soon as I get close enough for him to touch me, he reaches out, grabs my arms and pulls me to him. “It’s not Death Row, Sloane. You came so hard this afternoon that you almost broke my tongue off…
twice
. Don’t act like you’re not going to enjoy this.”

I glare at him, needing him to know just how deep my hatred of him is running at the moment.

“What kind of birth control are you using?”

Flushing to the roots of my hair, I shake my head. “I’m not on birth control.”

“So then you normally use condoms. That’ll have to be dealt with immediately. I didn’t pay seven million dollars to spend the next year coming into latex. When was the last time you were tested for STDs?”

I want to kill him for embarrassing me. Grinding my teeth together, I barely manage to get words out of my mouth. “I don’t use condoms and I’ve never been tested for—”

I don’t get to finish my response because the hand that is still wrapped around my arm grips me so tightly that it is painful. “You were out there letting guys come inside of you with nothing to keep you from getting pregnant or worse? How many men have had you? HOW MANY?”

If he weren’t holding onto me as tightly as he is, I would scurry away due to his thunderous tone. Shaking my head emphatically I blurt, “None! I’m a virgin!”

A horrible silence descends over us, and he gapes at me like I just told him I rob convenience stores in my free time. For a few seconds, I think that he looks pleased, but that is quickly replaced with another emotion that I can’t pinpoint. Shaking his head, he lets go of me and stands up. “You should have told me that before,” he snaps.

Nothing I do is right in his eyes and it’s infuriating. “Before what? Before you bought me to be your sex-slave? I didn’t
ask
for any of this, you jerk!”

He throws his hands in the air in a gesture of frustrated annoyance. “I’m in no mood for virginal hysterics. I have half a mind to return you and get my money back.”

My stomach plummets at that. If he returns me, the Tates are going to lose everything. What would I do then?

Turning away from me, he storms to the door and flings it open. Looking over his shoulder at me he snaps, “I bet you’d like me to walk away, but I’m not going to. This changes nothing; do you hear me? Nothing! We’ll get your birth control situation sorted out tomorrow and then there will be no excuses.”

He slams the door behind him and as soon as he is gone, I climb onto my bed and curl up into a ball. Shoving my face into a pillow, I sob as silently as possible until I wring myself out so badly that I fall into an exhausted slumber.

I haven’t really see Killian for the past four days. He spends very little time in the condo and when he is around, he mostly ignores me. You’d think that would make me happy but if anything, it makes me edgier. I hate unpredictability and these days Killian is the master of it. He communicates with me through Chord or not at all, and it’s really frustrating.

This all started the morning after he slammed out of my bedroom. When I woke and left the room, he was nowhere to be found. About an hour later Chord came to tell me that Killian would be busy for the day, but had made an appointment with a doctor for me. It was humiliating having Chord drive me to the gynecologist, and the entire way there I wondered just how much he knew about what was going on with Killian and me.