I walk through the kitchen and come to a stop outside the cabinet that I had stood in front of on my first day in Bellevue Springs with Charles right by my side. A sharp pang slices through my stomach at the memory. I wasn’t exactly close with Charles but no one deserves such an awful ending when their story clearly hasn’t finished being written.
It’s hard to believe that day was only a month ago. So much has happened since then.
I let out a shaky breath, mentally preparing myself for the unknown. My fingers curl around the small, golden handle of the cabinet door and I slowly pull it open to find the private bar that Colton had worked his ass off to install.
The room is in darkness but the light filtering in from the kitchen is enough to see Colton sitting in a lone armchair. His eyes are blazing and focused heavily on mine, intense and lethal, exactly the version of him that I saw in his father’s office this morning.
An open bottle of scotch dangles from his fingers. The bottle is near empty and something tells me that it’s probably not the only bottle he’s worked his way through today.
My heart shatters watching him. I’ve never seen someone in such pain, but I sure as hell know what it feels like. Colton didn’t even like his father that much. He was intimidating, violent, and angry, but he was still the man who raised him. He’s responsible for the man that Colton is today and that has to count for something.
The longer we remain in this stare off, the harder it becomes to watch him. I have to do something. I have to help him or somehow make at least a fraction of the pain go away, but when it comes to Colton Carrington, figuring out the right thing to do is always a challenge.
Realizing it’s now or never, I swallow my pride and go to take a step into the private bar, but as he stands, I find myself hovering in the open doorway.
His hazel eyes never leave mine and as he walks toward me, my heart starts racing. I’ve never understood how he can do that. He’s just some guy yet whenever he’s around, whether it’s something good or something bad, he makes me react in a way which I never would have expected.
The closer he gets, the more I’m reminded of our night together and then early this morning before everything turned to shit. Last night was a fairytale at the party. He looked at me as though I was his everything, his whole world wrapped up in golden silk, but right now, he eyes me as though I’m nothing–trash.
Colton steps in front of me and I raise my chin, not understanding why my nerves are riding so high. “Hey, I … umm–”
I cut myself off as he steps right into me, his body pressed right up against mine. My hands naturally fall to his chest but as he takes another step, I’m pushed out, back into the quiet kitchen. He gives me a gentle push, sending me back against the counter but he stays right where he is, his eyes darkening with distaste.
Unease rockets through me and as he reaches the cabinet door and steps back into the private bar, his intentions become clear. The door is slammed between us with a hard thud and as I listen to the lock sliding into place, my world goes up in flames.
Tears begin to well in my eyes at his rejection. I thought this morning could have been forgiven as he’d just found his father dead, but now after hours of coming to terms with it … it hurts. All his rejections over the past month, his taunts, his stares, his hate, they all come back to me and just like that, I realize that whatever I was foolishly trying to build between us is gone.
The Colton Carrington I thought that I was beginning to know doesn’t exist. He played me, and despite knowing how much pain he’s in right now, something tells me that this is more than just a cry for help. He’s done with me and the finality of that tears me wide open, leaving me feeling like a fool, vulnerable and hurt.
I’m left standing here, staring at the closed door between us, and the longer I wait, hoping for it to open, the quicker everything begins to shut down within me.
The fairytale is dead and the sooner I come to terms with that, the better.
Chapter 4
“Are you ready for this?” Milo questions as he pulls into the student parking lot bright and early on Monday morning.
I stare up ahead at the students climbing out of their cars and take in the way they all look back at Milo’s Aston Martin, knowing I’m sitting right here in the passenger’s seat. That’s the problem being the only girl in a school full of guys, if even the smallest thing happens in my life, every one of these bastards will know about it.