Freeing Destiny (Fate #2) (31 page)

Stella

I’d been so engrossed in the music from my iPod since I left the apartment, I hadn’t paid much notice to my whereabouts. Rain fell from the sky without apology and pelted against the window.
Great. I just love flying in the rain.
I gazed out the window and watched strangers pass me by, and finally I noticed the direction we were headed.
Hmm, that’s weird.
Maybe the driver was taking a short cut? Or avoiding traffic? Couldn’t be. I’d traveled back and forth to the airport more times than I could count and nothing about this route seemed familiar.

Inching forward in my seat I spoke up. “Hey, sir.”
Oops. I think it’s actually a
she
under that baseball cap.
“I mean, er, ma’am. This isn’t the way to—” Shock and confusion overcame me when the driver jerked the wheel to the right with extreme hostility.

Skid! Screech! Bang!

“What the . . .” I tried to scream but nothing came out. My head was pounding. I reached up to sooth the ache and felt something wet.
Blood!
What? Huh?

Through fuzzy vision, I tried to make out where I was and what just happened.

Back seat of a car.

Blood on the window. On my hands. Dripping into my eyes.

My phone. 9–1-1. Where was it?

Where were we?

The driver.

And then it all faded to black.

I startled awake to a pain that could only be described as hell. Hell on earth and I was experiencing it. On a tile floor. In a strange bathroom. Nothing familiar, just . . . strange.

Where the hell am I?
I didn’t realize I’d asked it out loud until a voice answered me.

“You’re safe. Don’t worry.” The voice was unconvincing. Cold. Terse.
Familiar.

Finally something familiar in this weird twist of . . . what? Luck? Chance? Fate?

“Where am I? Who are you?” I asked, squinting to see through the darkness of what seemed to be a grand en suite bathroom.

“You’re here and I’m me. That’s all you need to know for now.”

Was she kidding? Was I dreaming? I wanted to fight, to stand up and demand an answer, but I was too weak to even try. And—I was handcuffed to a goddamn pipe.

“Hey! What’s going on? I’m—”
Holy shit!
Glimpses of reality sped past me like a train on a one-way track to get-the-fuck-with-it-Stella.

The so called Uber.

The accident.

My flight.

Jack!

“Am I in New York? Did I make my flight?”

“Nope. Still in good old Cali.” The unknown voice sent chills up and down my spine. The spine that was crooked and aching from lying on the cold floor, in a room of a house that I’d never been in.

“Where am I?” I demanded. “Who are you? Why are you doing this to me?” I was a hostage, but why? I mean, unless I misconstrued the whole situation. Maybe I was in a terrible accident and this stranger took me in to nurse me back to health out of the kindness of her heart.

No. That didn’t make sense. Any normal person would’ve taken me to the hospital. Not here. And the handcuffs. “If you don’t show your face. I’ll . . . I’ll scream!” And that’s what I did. I screamed bloody murder. “Help! Help me! Please!”

Mere moments felt like hours of futility. My throat burned raw as hot tears fell from my eyes. I jangled the cuffs and banged them against the pipe, fighting to break free of the restraint. It was no use. I was trapped. I let my breathing calm to a slow pant and my heartbeat simmer to a gentle gallop.

When it was silent, she filled the large adjoining room with her laughter.

Why was this girl laughing at my misery? What had I done to her? Why
me
?

And then it clicked.

That voice.

That laugh.

That girl.

It was revenge.

Aubrey

Halloween—three weeks earlier

Me: Hey, you and Stella want to join me at a costume party tonight?

Jack: Thanks for the offer, but already have plans.

Same answer. Every time.

I was trying. I really was. I didn’t want to beg or give half a shit about
any
of the Edwards girls, but after coming home and spending so much time alone, I figured playing nice was my best bet. As much as it grated on every last nerve in my petite body, I put myself out there to be Stella’s friend, and searched for forgiveness. Or something like that. The girl didn’t have to like me, I just wanted her to tolerate me long enough to be allowed in her presence.

But time and time again I was shot down. Never in a mean way. No, perfect Stella was too gracious for that. Even still, no matter how polite her rejections and my brother’s subtle flip offs were, I felt scorned.

Yeah, I probably deserved it. But then, what the hell was the point of such a thing as forgiveness? I hadn’t killed anyone. I wasn’t a total psycho. So what? I got carried away with a crush and caused some drama. Big deal.

I apologized. Numerous times. Multiple ways. But no one was willing to give me a chance and it fucking irked the shit out of me that my own flesh and blood was siding with one of
them!

I had no one. Not one person on my side.
Poor me.
It was a tune I sang often, but this time it felt hopeless. Maybe I’d gone too far? Had I pushed everyone’s limits? No one followed after me when I left. It was like they were all better off without me. And now I was vying for their attention and they didn’t give a rat’s ass.

My parents had left just as I returned to spend some time at their estate in Versailles. Mom still had family there, and even though she had three children
here,
she liked to spend most of October and November
there.
I guess my mother wasn’t exactly fit for
mothering
. Another reason I felt closer to Daddy. He understood me and while he wasn’t the most paternal guy around, he’d do anything for his little girl. Now that I thought about it,
he
was the root of my problem. Silver spoon syndrome. Spoiled daughter complex. Whatever you wanted to call it, it was ultimately Daddy’s fault that I always wound up getting my way.

And now my parents were part of the army of people who were pissed at me for what I did. At first I worried about being cut off financially, but it was worse than that. They didn’t cut me off, they wrote me off. I was a problem they didn’t want to deal with. Someone they needed time away from. They chastised me like a child in a timeout, except this was no way to teach me a lesson. It only added fuel to the fire.
Brimstone and ash.
I locked this up in my mental jar of wrongdoings against me.

How could my own mother and father practically disown me? I wasn’t as heinous as everyone liked to believe. I had a fucking heart, goddamn it, and it was so very lonely at the moment. Isolated and exiled. I was guilty of plaguing my so called loved ones with my childish drama and now paying for it in a twisted form of solitary confinement.

My parents were on the other side of the world, ignoring me. My only brother wouldn’t give me the time of day because he was spending all of it with
her.
And my sister, Emma—she was another story. Good girl. Sweet as cherry pie. But jealous as sin. I’d always been the prettier sister and it ate at her. She rarely brought me into her circle of friends and almost always kept me at a distance. Funny enough, the only time she
did
bring me around, it wound up in chaos.
Caleb and the Edwards girls. I’d never live that shit down, would I?

But that still wasn’t a reason for Emma to ignore my phone calls
and
my plea for companionship. She was my fucking sister! Nina and Stella weren’t! They had each other and, dare I say it, if there was one thing I envied about those two, it was their unbreakable bond.

When I stopped to think about it, it burned a nagging hole right in the pit of my stomach. With my phone clutched in a tight grip since receiving Jack’s dismissive text, I tried calling Emma. Again.

“Hello?” she answered, her tone laced with irritation.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” I still hadn’t gotten used to her flippancy.

“Not really. What’s up, Aubrey?”

In other words, get to the point. God forbid she wanted to shoot the shit with her sister. I didn’t want to push my luck; it was the first time she’d answered in a week, so I blurted it out. “There’s a Halloween party tonight at Kamikaze’s. Want to come? You can bring—”

“No,” she cut me off. “Aubrey, how many times do I have to tell you? I can’t do this right now. The wounds are still fresh.”

“Wounds? What wounds? I didn’t do anything to you, Emma. The Caleb thing had
nothing
to do with you.”

“And that’s why you’re delusional.” She laughed. “You never realize how the things you do affect
all
the people around you. You’re so blinded by getting your way and then stomping your feet in a tantrum when you don’t that you miss the big picture.”

“Oh, yeah, and what’s that?” Her bitchy attitude made my blood boil, but I needed to hear it from her. Why did she have such a stick up her ass?

“You’re impossible, Aubrey! Plain and simple. I know it sounds harsh, but when you’re not around it’s easier to breathe. I don’t feel like I have to look over my shoulder at every turn. What you did to Nina and Stella—it’s reprehensible.
They
were like sisters to me. Our friendship was perfect and you polluted the whole thing with your bullshit. I’m guilty by association, even if they don’t come straight out and say it.”

Seriously?
I was so taken aback, I had to sit down. “Then how do you explain Jack?” I mean, honestly. The Edwards and Caleb were okay to talk to Jack—another sibling guilty by blood ties—but Emma was off limits? It made no sense.

In a curt tone, she bit back. “Jack didn’t try to defend you
. I
did. And it cost me my friendships with two of the most special people in my life. No one trusts you, Aubrey, and because I gave you even the
slightes
t advantage in a fucked up situation, it made them rethink my loyalty. It doesn’t matter. I don’t have to explain myself. I just—I need a break from you.”

“You just had one! I was gone for months!”

“It wasn’t long enough. I’m sorry, Aubrey.
I
don’t trust you and I’m still angry. I’m working on rebuilding a relationship with Stella and Nina, and now I have Simon.”

My blood was past the boiling point. Knowing her persistence, she’d be back to besties with Nina and Stella in no time. She had a new boyfriend to keep her warm at night. My brother spoke to her daily and my parents referred to her as the golden child. But what about me? “I’m your sister!” I cried, hoping to garner some pity.

“I’m sorry, but you’ve never acted like one, Aubrey. Not unless you were forced. I have to go. I’m not happy that it has to be this way, but for now it does. In other words, don’t call me, I’ll call you.”

She hung up and I nearly threw up. Anger throttled my body and rolled through me in waves of nausea. Instead of letting it get the best of me, I expelled the fury with a loud, throat-burning scream! “BITCH! What a fucking BITCH!!!!”

How could they all do this to me? Everyone was overreacting. This was ridiculous.

When my rage simmered to mere hurt, I paced the empty room, yet again. Walking through the hallway to get a drink from the kitchen, I scanned the wall of framed photographs. With a swipe of my hand, I smacked each one off and onto the floor with a loud crash. Frames and glass everywhere. One filled with a shot of me, Jack, and Emma as kids in Aspen. A baby picture of Emma. A toddler snapshot of Jack. A dance recital print of me. Each of our high school graduation portraits. A family memento from Christmas in New York City one year.