I breathe through my mouth. Patience. It’s taken years for Ava to dig her claws into me; it’s going to take a while to rip them out. One day at a time. And I’m going to get rid of her, even if I have to give up a chunk of myself in the process—the way lizards break their tails off to free themselves.
Suddenly, the engine stops. “We’re here, sir,” the driver says, opening the door.
I step out, then stretch my left leg. The muscles feel tight and achy. The excessive jogging in Charlottesville didn’t help, and the long flight aggravated it further. But I embrace the pain. It’s distracting me from thoughts of Ava.
On the other hand… I wince as I walk. Damn, that hurts, and my lower body hates me. Why shouldn’t it? I’ve been pretty nasty to it in the past few days.
Well, my self-abuse phase is over. I’m going to baby the leg until it feels better, and I’m going to make sure to put myself first. I’ve cut people out of my life before. I can do it again.
I grasp the handle of my suitcase and walk into the building where Blake’s penthouse occupies the top three levels. The lobby is so ostentatious I’m almost embarrassed. Only a person with no sense of proportion would live in a place like this. Everything is done in gold, with shiny brass accents and a smartly dressed concierge in a light caramel uniform. The chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling are contemporary, but no less showy for that. But then Blake compulsively displays his wealth whenever he’s around the Pryce side of the family, and most of them live out here. I go to the elevator bank and take the one waiting with its doors wide open.
One side of the car is made of glass—an acrophobe’s nightmare. I punch the five-digit PIN to access the penthouse level, and the car starts moving immediately. Everything on the ground grows smaller until I only see dots and small boxes moving. Exactly what I want—to be away from everyone.
When the elevator opens, I’m in a foyer. It’s cozy compared to what I’ve seen of the building so far. A white vase with an Asian arrangement of plum blossoms sits on a dark cherry table. My shoes make sharp sounds on the smooth, spotless dark green and blue marble. I enter the key code Blake gave me, and the double doors unlock with a quiet click.
I step inside. Blake’s penthouse is nothing like the lobby. Airy and open and done predominantly in white and chrome and glass, the place is even bigger than I expected. The staggered lofts on the second and third levels overlook the living and dining area, with a huge kitchen under a high ceiling. The lights are recessed, and a black Steinway baby grand piano takes the place of honor by the floor-to-ceiling window. Blake plays occasionally, although I don’t see the point of owning something like a baby grand when he’s so rarely in L.A. Out on the deck is a pool, another pointless luxury item, since—unlike Elliot—Blake doesn’t swim much. It’s probably considered a selling point, though. Californians love their pools.
“Surprise!”
I pause, then blink at the sight of Elizabeth coming toward me with a big grin. She’s as beautiful as usual, her artfully curled golden hair bouncing around her slender shoulders, brown eyes warm and friendly. The sleeveless raw silk pink dress she wears is fitted, making her look even slimmer.
Before I can pull back, she envelops me in a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“You mean you have more schemes up your—” I don’t get to say the rest, as my siblings pour out of their hiding places in the kitchen.
Ryder reaches me first, his bare feet quiet across the marble floor. He is disgustingly good looking—a pure genetic lottery winner. The dark, chiseled looks have women around the world panting and men gnashing their teeth with envy. A white T-shirt and jeans set off the lean physique he’s spent countless hours in the gym to create. Once he’s within my personal space, he slaps me on the back. I just grunt.
My identical twin Elliot pumps my hand. Unscarred, he’s what I’d look like if I hadn’t had the accident. He’s dressed casually in a fancy black synthetic fiber T-shirt and khaki shorts. From their reactions, you’d think I’d survived a war to reach L.A. Blake, always the reticent one, merely nods in the back. Given his dress shirt and slacks, he probably had a business meeting earlier.
“You’ve met Paige already, right?” Ryder says, gesturing at his former assistant. She’s a big, brown-eyed blonde glowing with pregnancy. Her belly is showing now, but an elegant blue dress makes her look chic rather than awkward.
Paige hugs me, which is a little uncomfortable. If she notices my stiffness, she doesn’t show it. “Good to see you in town again, Lucas.”
“Likewise,” I say for politeness’s sake.
I spot a stunning redhead standing by Elliot. She must be the infamous stripper. Contrary to what I’ve imagined, she doesn’t look like a crass, money-grubbing ho. There’s softness that says she’s a woman of quality. The makeup on her face is light, just enough to accentuate her high cheekbones and pretty lips. Her beige halter-neck dress is cut modestly, the hem almost reaching her knees.
“My wife, Belle,” Elliot says, putting an arm around her waist.
“A pleasure.” I smile. I’m not a completely hopeless ogre, even if I often feel like one.
Her shoulders relax perceptibly. “I’m thrilled to finally meet you.”
?
?Sorry I missed your introductory reception. I wasn’t fit company then.”
Blake raises an eyebrow, but nobody’s paying attention other than me. “It’s good you didn’t show,” he says. “Thanks to our father’s idiot wife, the whole party ended up a clusterfu…”
I’m wondering what on earth could make Blake not say what’s on his mind when a young girl—fourteen or so—comes out. She’s pretty, with wide-set eyes and soft brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. She wears a fitted red shirt that reads I Love Hollywood and cropped teal pants with ballet flats. I cock an eyebrow at Blake.
It’s Belle who answers my silent question. “That’s my sister Nonny.” She waves the girl over. “Come say hello to your new brother-in-law.”
The title is a bit of a shock. Apparently I’ve just acquired an impressionable teenage sister. What am I supposed to do with her?
The girl raises a hand shyly. “Hi. Nice to meet you.”
“You too.” I turn my attention to my siblings. “What are you guys all doing here?”