Bastards and Scapegoats Page 8

  Hamilton stared at me as I spoke. It was an easy enough story. I left out the parts where I felt like an outsider in the pretentious community. Once people learned that my mother was a housekeeper for one of the wealthier families, they treated me like I wasn’t good enough to breathe the same air as them. I had to work three times as hard to prove that I was worthy. I stayed focused and only dated a few people casually. It felt like a gigantic fuck you when I graduated valedictorian. I’ll never forget the way Mom cried when I delivered the class speech.

  “I guess Joseph went to eat there while he was visiting a nonprofit in town. They hit it off. He took her on a couple dates and bam.”

  I shrugged, not really knowing the details. Mom was never the type to share about her dating and personal life with me. One minute she was single and working all the time, the next we were moving here to be with Joseph. Thank God I had graduated before we had to move. I would have been devastated had it ruined my valedictorian status.

  “It’s just so unlike my brother,” Hamilton admitted. “Your mom is beautiful and definitely out of his league, but he’s the most calculating, cautious, meticulous person I know. Marrying someone he’d only been dating for a few months is completely out of character for him. I figured he’d marry someone Jack set him up with for sure. Not that I’m mad he went against that. It’s just…curious.”

  I let out a huff of air. “I just want her to be happy.” There went that same damn phrase again. The more I said it, the less authentic it felt.

  “And what about you?” Hamilton asked.

  “What about me?”

  “You can be happy too, you know,” Hamilton whispered before putting his hand back on my upper thigh. This time, I didn’t push him away.

  I internally scoffed, though. I was happy. Plenty happy. I was starting school soon. I had a place to live. What more could I possibly need?

  “Are you thinking about how happy you are right now?” Hamilton asked.

  I sputtered. How the fuck could he read my thoughts? “I am absolutely happy,” I promised, though my tone felt forced and my teeth were clenched so tightly I thought my tooth would crack. What the fuck did it matter? I was taken care of. I was successful, right? “You could have been a therapist, you know.” I wanted to put the attention back on Hamilton. It was safer that way.

  “I’ve seen enough over the years you could call me an expert.” He rubbed my thigh with his thumb, pressing the pad of it against my bare skin. I swallowed. “I found my mother when she o—died.”

  My shoulders slumped, and I felt myself softening in pity for him. “I’m so sorry—”

  “I didn’t tell you that for your pity, Petal. My first therapist quit after my eighth session; she told me that I was allowed to be happy and that I didn’t have to grieve my dead mother for the rest of my life. I told her to get fucked and jump off a bridge.”

  My eyes widened. Well holy fuck. “She sounds like a shitty therapist.”

  Hamilton nodded. “I guess what I’m trying to tell you is, you’re allowed to be unhappy. It’s easy to give ourselves permission to be happy. Happy is easy. You want to really dig through the trenches of your mind? Let yourself be anything else. I think you’d be hot as fuck while good and angry.”

  Hamilton leaned in and kissed my neck. His lips tugged on my ear lobe. I squirmed in my seat as his hand drifted higher, and higher, and my eyes scanned the room. Was anyone watching?

  “Relax. It’s just you and me, Petal. Let’s smell the roses a bit,” he said before pressing the tip of his middle finger against my heat.

  “Please stop,” I whimpered, not meaning it at all.

  “Kiss me, and I will.” Hamilton brushed his lips against mine. It was a soft question, a demand. I chased after the brief touch with my bottom lip, aching to prolong the heated touch. “Tease,” he chastised me on a breathy whisper.

  “I’m not going to kiss you, Hamilton,” I promised. “You and me? We’d be a disaster.” I murmured those words painfully close to his perfect mouth before pulling away and straightening my spine.

  “I can’t wait to break you, Petal.”

  I picked up my Pepsi and took a sip of it before clearing my throat. “To be honest, I want you, Hamilton,” I admitted. “You’re attractive. Experienced.”

  He grinned. “Well, what’s stopping you?”

  “Have you ever ruined someone’s life? I mean genuinely ruined it—whether intentionally or not.” His expression turned serious. I waited for him to answer me, but he never did. I continued. “I don’t want to draw attention to myself, because I’m a product of the most painful thing to ever happen to my mother. I’m a living, breathing atonement for my existence. I’m a perfectionist and a martyr. Acting on the impulse—and this is an impulse—to kiss you would be too reckless and risky to be worth the reward. Like it or not, you’re Joseph’s brother. I don’t need your orgasms, your heated words, or your temptation, Hamilton. I’m not foolish enough to think that I am anything more than a game of pleasure to you, and I’m not willing to gamble on my mother’s shot at happiness.”

  We exchanged a heated stare once more. Something passed across his expression, a break in the determined flirtatiousness of his behavior that caught me off guard. I broke our eye contact first to look around. Our moment had the power to stop time. I hadn’t realized we were in a room full of eyes.

  It wasn’t until my gaze landed on a familiar, smarmy face that my blood turned cold. “Saint,” I whispered before snapping myself away from Hamilton.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Saint. He’s here,” I choked out as my heart raced. Hamilton spun around in his seat and cursed. Saint was wearing jeans and a tight shirt. He raised the glass in his hand with a satisfied smirk on his face. Had he taken a picture? Oh shit. Hamilton and I were sitting awfully close.

  Hamilton got up just as the band took the stage. Jess intercepted him as I started to hyperventilate. Was Saint going to follow me everywhere? Were Hamilton and I going to make the front page of the newspapers tomorrow? The edges of my vision turned black.

  “We’re Diet Fun,” Infinity said softly into the microphone. “And we’re going to rock your socks off.”

  The drums started playing, and Infinity immediately screamed into the microphone. I tried to look for Saint, but he disappeared down a hallway. Jess was still chatting with an angry-looking Hamilton. My chest felt so fucking tight.

  Why was he here?

  I stood up and made my way toward the door. No scandals. I couldn’t ruin anything. My eyes felt hot with tears. It was such a mistake coming here. “Vera!” Hamilton called at my back, his deep voice raising over the music. I ignored him and exited the café, air hitting my cheeks the moment I made it outside.

  Standing on the sidewalk, I called the one person I could trust in this world. “Mom?”

  “Finally, you call me! Baby, it’s late. What’s up?”

  “Are you home?”

  “Yeah. Our flight got in a few hours ago. What’s wrong?”

  “Can you come get me?”

  8

  I was sitting at a McDonald’s down the street from the café when my mom pulled up in her brand-new Escalade. She was wearing pajamas and marched up to the door with her hair in curlers. I grinned at the determined look on her face. “Where is he?” she snapped when I got up from my spot at the booth and gave her a hug.

  “I don’t know. He disappeared when the band started playing. I got out of there and called you while walking here.”

  I didn’t mention that I was with Hamilton, but I knew it was only a matter of time before Mom found out that I was there with him. “Joseph had to go to the office to work on something for Jack, but he assured me that he would make sure Saint is arrested immediately. I can’t believe he’s just following you around now.”

  She let out a huff, and I smiled at her protectiveness. “Can you just take me home?” I asked. It had been a long night, and I wanted nothing more than to lock the deadb
olt and curl up under my bed. Maybe I needed to get a dog. The apartment already had a security system, but I’d watched enough crime television to know that a security system wasn’t much when up against a crazed person.

  “Should we go to the police? I’m just not sure about you going home. Want me to spend the night?”

  Letting out a sigh, I wrapped my arms around her tiny body and breathed her in. She smelled like coffee and her cinnamon body wash. “Yeah. That would make me feel a lot better, actually.”

  We got in the car, and she followed my directions to my new apartment. In my purse, my phone kept ringing. Both Jess and Hamilton had called me numerous times, but I didn’t want to talk to either of them. I wasn’t sure what to say. I had sent them both a text to let them know I was fine and got a ride home, but they were relentless.

  “I just don’t understand what this guy’s problem is. He’s a reporter, right?” Mom rambled as she turned into the parking lot. “Why does he think you have a story, huh?” She looked at me out of the corner of her eye. “Who were you with at this café, baby?”

  I swallowed. “Hamilton’s roommate invited me. Her girlfriend is in the band that was playing,” I explained, hoping she wouldn’t question it.

  “Hamilton? As in Joseph’s brother?” she asked, surprise marring her expression.

  “Yeah. You know he was there when Saint first showed up. I met his roommate, and she was really nice. I think they just feel bad that I know no one here. It was probably a pity invite,” I explained, though it didn’t feel like a pity invite. It felt like a date. It felt like a date that went to hell the moment I saw Saint. I knew I needed to tell my mother the truth. If Saint took a photo of Hamilton and me, I just knew it would look far too suggestive for friendly family members enjoying a concert together. By tomorrow, it would be all over the headlines.

  But I didn’t want to tell her just yet. I couldn’t believe that I fucked everything up.

  We got out of the car and made our way inside the building. “Joseph has told me a lot about his brother, you know,” she said while tugging at her pajamas. “I’m not sure you should be spending time with him, baby.”

  I knew she was right. Hamilton was trouble. But something within me broke at her words. I didn’t want to stay away. Was I really so lonely that I would risk everything for a one-night stand? Because that’s all he would ever give me. One. Night.

  “What did Joseph say?” I prodded.

  “Just that Hamilton has always been a bit of a wild child. He was really heavy on drugs a few years back. Joseph isn’t sure if he still is, but he used to be manic. Would lie all the time—and he was apparently good at it. He could convince anyone of anything.”

  I swallowed as we made the way to my door. After turning onto the hallway where my apartment was, I abruptly halted when I saw someone leaning against the door. “Fuck,” I cursed. There was a single light overhead, casting the person in shadows. Was Saint here?

  “Who is that?” Mom hissed while grabbing my arm. At the commotion, the person turned to face us, and we both let out a sigh of relief.

  Hamilton.

  He jogged down the long hallway toward me, and the moment he was close enough, Hamilton wrapped me in a tight hug. “You scared the shit out of me,” he said with a curse. I felt stiff and awkward in his arms, my mother clicking her tongue beside us. “Are you okay? Saint got out of there before I could talk to him. I bet you’re really freaked out.” He cupped my cheeks and stared me in the eye, making me feel dizzy from all the fucking butterflies in my stomach.

  Mom cleared her throat. “Hamilton.”

  He didn’t stop holding me. He didn’t even glance at her. We were locked in a stare down. Like Saint hadn’t interrupted us earlier and my mother wasn’t standing right next to me.

  “Hamilton?” I said.

  He pulled away and straightened his shirt. “Hey, Lilah, good to see you again,” he said to my mother while wrapping her up in a hug. She patted his back, and he pulled away.

  “Wish it could be under better circumstances,” Mom replied while looking him up and down. “I didn’t realize you and my daughter had grown so close.”

  Hamilton smiled politely. “Family is very important to me, Lilah.”

  My stomach flopped at his words. Mom replied while I stood there tongue-tied. “Right. Well, we are fine. Thank you for checking on her, but I’ve got it from here. Joseph promised me that he would call the police.”

  “You might want to tell them about this, too,” Hamilton said before nodding at my front door. Tell them about what? I looked in the direction of my apartment with my brow furrowed. After seeing something there, my feet had a mind of their own, carrying me to a ripped sheet of paper taped there. My heart pounded. Mom called my name, but I didn’t stop. It wasn’t until I could see the messy, scrawled note that the terror clicked into place and ice filled my veins.

  Vera,

  Your secret is safe with me.

  For now.

  -S

  “He was here?” Mom shrieked. “I’m calling the police.”

  Mom pulled out her cell phone and dialed 911 while I turned to stare at Hamilton. He looked eerily calm, but there was a fiery determination in his gaze. His dark vacant eyes glared at the ominous threat. Fuck. This was too close.

  Hamilton and the police were long gone. By the time we gave our statements and they did a sweep of the apartment, it was three a.m. Mom was snoozing peacefully on the mattress next to me, one hand on her stomach, one behind her head. I felt safer knowing she was with me, but I still couldn’t fall asleep.

  Hamilton disappeared the moment we called Jack to let him know what was going on. Part of me was relieved, but the other part of me felt safer having him around. I wasn’t thinking clearly when I ran away from the café. I just wanted to put space between me and the man following me. I was terrified that my strange attraction to Hamilton was going to ruin my mother’s new marriage. Not to mention create more speculation. But now, even though there was a cruiser parked outside my apartment building, and my mother was sleeping beside me, I felt terrified. Saint didn’t look menacing. He was twisted and creepy and very invasive. It was more the breach of my privacy that freaked me out than his presence. Minus the gun, I could probably beat his scrawny ass if I wanted to. It was his unpredictability and the power he held over me that made him more threatening.

  My phone vibrated on the nightstand, alerting me to a text.

  Hamilton: Are you okay?

  Me: Can’t sleep.

  The chat bubbles flashed on my screen and disappeared. When his message finally came through, I was surprised by his question.

  Hamilton: Why did you run from the café?

  I chewed on my lip, trying to find a way to respond that sounded sane.

  Me: I guess I was in fight or flight. I got out of there as quickly as I could and called my mom.

  Hamilton: It was very reckless. I was really fucking worried about you. If you were here, I’d bend you over my knee and spank that perfect ass of yours until it was red.

  I swallowed and stared at his message, reading it over and over and over again. Slipping out of bed, I made my way to the living room, leaving my snoozing mother to sleep in peace. By the time I had sat down on the leather couch, Hamilton had sent two more messages.

  Hamilton: Did I lose you?

  Hamilton: Come back, Petal. Don’t be afraid.

  Me: I’m not afraid of you.

  Hamilton: What are you afraid of?

  I ran my tongue over my bottom lip while grabbing my throw blanket and tossing it over my bare legs.

  Me: Saint. Ruining my mother’s new marriage. Not being good enough.

  I didn’t actually send the last two bits. That was a little too honest, and I wasn’t sure Hamilton had earned the truest parts of me yet. We barely knew one another. There was an attraction, yes, but I couldn’t honestly say there was any more to it.

  Hamilton: Want me to help you think of something else?


  Me: What did you have in mind?

  Those taunting chat bubble dots blinked a few times, and I waited with my breath caught in my throat for Hamilton to reply. Minutes passed, and I had all but given up on him when my phone rang.

  “Hello?” I answered, my voice worn with exhaustion.

  “What are you wearing?” Hamilton asked in a deep voice. The cliché phrase would have sounded dull coming from anyone else, but not him.

  “My comfort shirt,” I admitted.

  Hamilton chuckled. “Is it a sexy comfort shirt?”

  “It’s an oversized white T-shirt I’ve had since I was thirteen. It used to be my mother’s.”

  “Ah, I can see it now. Hits just at mid-thigh. Your nipples poke through the thin material.” My breath hitched at his raspy words. “Are you alone?”

  I let out a shaky exhale while looking around the living room. “Not really. Mom stayed over.

  Hamilton paused for a moment, then spoke. “You don’t have to say anything. You don’t have to do anything. Just listen to me, okay?”

  “Okay,” I murmured.

  “I’m fucking pissed our night was ruined because I wanted to take you home and taste you, Vera.” His words rattled me.

  “We can’t—”

  “Right now, we can do anything we want. It’s just talking.” I heard the sound of him shifting around. “I can see it now. I’d lay you down on my bed and slip off that sexy black skirt you had on. Your fucking creamy thighs would be trembling, and your pussy would be slick.”

  My breathing turned ragged, and I touched my neck with my free hand. “You’d probably say some bullshit about how this is a terrible idea. Because you’re a good person that doesn’t want to hurt the people she loves and because you were taught that your body is a delicate little rose better suited for vases on holidays. But…”