Chapter Four
Sienna
The weddingof the year was finally over. And I somehow managed to make it through without barfing on the bride. The fucking bitch was sickeningly happy, boasting her victory in my face the whole goddamn day. Elenor was officially a Whitlock now, and legally my stepmom—a thought that instantly gave me heartburn.
It was almost midnight, and they were still out there dancing under the stars with a few guests who weren’t quite ready to step away from the copious amount of complimentary champagne, still being offered on silver platters. Literally.
Usually when I stood on this exact spot, I’d look over the rose garden, the view painted with subtle yellows and bright pinks. As a child, I had spent hours in the garden playing with my mom, listening to her tell stories of how garden fairies would paint each rosebud during the early morning hours so we could see its beauty by the time the sun would rise.
But now, as I stand on the porch overlooking what used to be the garden, all I see is a landscape that had its beauty stripped because she wanted their wedding ceremony right there. Out of a four-thousand-acre estate, she had to pick the rose garden.
I watched my father whisper into her ear as she smiled like a fucking leprechaun who had just found that elusive pot of gold. God, I couldn’t stand the sight of them together. How she clung to my dad like a leech, taking my mom’s place at his side. How could he replace her? How could he so easily forget who my mom was to him, to us? It was the worst kind of torture, watching him build a life with another woman as if my mom never existed.
“Hey.”
I glanced over my shoulder at Spencer. “Hey.”
“You okay?”
“No.” I wiped at a lingering tear that threatened to escape.
“Good thing I brought this then.” Silas walked up with three shot glasses and a bottle of tequila, placing it on the patio table.
Spencer turned to face Silas. “Getting drunk isn’t going to help anything. He’s still going to be married to her tomorrow morning.”
“Oh, I know. But getting drunk now is going to turn this shit-show into a party of three.”
“Is alcohol your answer to everything?”
“Right now, it is.”
“Jesus, Silas. Don’t you think it’s time you took shit seriously?”
“I am!” Silas snapped. “I am taking this shit seriously. I am taking the fact that our dad married a gold-digging bitch very seriously. I am taking the fact that my little sister is out here crying very seriously.”
“Silas, come on.” I moved between them, and he leaned over my shoulder to get closer to Spencer’s face.
“And I am taking the fact that my fucking twin brother left us very seriously,” he bit out between clenched teeth.
Spencer stepped up. “Will everyone stop acting like me leaving this goddamn house is some fucking tragedy?”
“It’s not a tragedy, Spencer. It’s a fucking cowardly move. That’s what it is.” Silas inched back, his jaw ticking as his eyes burned. “Running away from your problems is what a coward does. It’s what you do.”
“At least I’m not drinking and fucking my way through life.”
“Stop!” I yelled. “Both of you, stop.”
I glanced from Silas to Spencer. “Don’t you think this family has enough problems as it is? We lost Mom. The last thing we need is to lose each other.”
Both of them stared at each other, trying to mask their pain with anger.
I glanced at Spencer. “You, stop trying to be the adult around here. And you,” I snapped my gaze to Silas, “pour us some fucking shots. I had to get through this motherfucking satanic ritual they call a wedding sober, so I deserve that goddamn drink.”
Silas’s shoulders visibly relaxed, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand before pouring the tequila.
He handed me a shot glass, the alcohol spilling on my fingers. “Sucks being underage, doesn’t it?”
“Only if your dad pretends to have morals when it comes to his daughter, yet has no problem derailing our lives because of some woman.”