I wanted to jump back out the window and go after Jake, but Daniel kept rancher's hours and was already rustling about downstairs.
This sudden loss of freedom was going to take some getting used to.
At six in the morning, I ran out of the house and straight to Jake's, but he wasn't home. I couldn't find him at the ranch either.
Bummed, I got an early start on my duties, keeping my eyes peeled for any sign of him.
At eight o'clock, I saw him in the break room, talking to a bunch of guys. Our eyes met and held for a second, but then he turned his back on me.
Yup, that was a cut direct, just like in regency romance novels. Feeling lower than a snake's belly, I slunk out of there.
But I waited outside, leaning up against the wall, drawing half moons around my feet with my toe.
He came out about ten minutes later, ropes in hand.
"Jake, can we talk?"
"Can't, busy."
He didn't stop so I hurried after him. "I just wanted to apologize-"
"Layla, I gotta go. We're heading out." He nodded to the ranch hands mounting horses behind him.
Well, at least he wasn't lying. "Will you come over later?"
"Maybe."
I guess that was the best I could ask for. I smiled at him. He frowned at me, then turned at left.
***
When Alice hadn't shown up by ten o'clock, I called her.
"I'm sorry Layla, it completely slipped my mind to call you. I won't be able to come today. Things are... well, I think it's best if I don't pester Peyton for a ride."
Oh God, Peyton, what did you do?
"Is everything okay?"
It took her a while to answer. "Mmm... yes. Or no. Well, I don't really know, I uh, I haven't left my room. I think I'm just going to stay in here today."
"What did Peyton do?" I whispered, clutching the phone hard enough to make my fingers ache.
"I... well..."
"Alice, I know about Charlotte. What happened?"
"I don't know the details, only that there was... an altercation this morning and it was bad."
An altercation? What the heck was that supposed to mean?
"He got very upset with her after the fair too, you know, for locking you in that closet. He took away all her privileges- credit cards, curfew, everything."
"Uh... can he do that?" I mean, I didn't have any, but I couldn't imagine anyone letting a sibling boss them around like that.
"He can now since he got legal custody of her on his eighteenth birthday. Layla, please don't say anything about any of this to anyone. No one told me, I just picked it up from being around."
I assured her that I wouldn't. "Why would he get custody of her when both their parents are alive?"
"Well I don't know much about Mr. Bishop, but Abigail's never been good at dealing with Charlotte... I hate to say it, because she's a wonderful woman, but she inadvertently enables Charlotte because she's incapable of putting her foot down.
It's always been Peyton cleaning up the messes and making all the decisions and Charlotte fighting him tooth and nail. So I'm guessing they decided to try a firmer approach? Now, Charlotte legally has to do whatever he says."
Alice paused. "He could even cut her off if he wanted to," she whispered, making it sound like that was a fate worse than death.
Digesting the information, I kind of felt bad for Charlotte. That was enough to drive a sane person insane, as Peyton could be a little... rigid. And poor Peyton too, what an awful burden.
"Anyway, I thought that was the worst of it, but this morning was just awful. You should have heard them, it was terrifying." She lowered her voice an octave. "I think it might've gotten physical. I was peeking out of my door and I caught a glimpse of him. He was bleeding."
"Bleeding? Where?"
"Forearms, for sure, but maybe other places. I didn't want to get caught spying."
Oh my God.
"I'm sure he's okay, it's probably harder on him psychologically. I mean, there's only so much he can do to protect her, not after what she did to that girl at Chapin."
Ah, yes. Daphne something-or-another. Peyton had told me that Charlotte had been expelled from her boarding school for causing the girl bodily injury.
We fell silent.
Alice cleared her throat. "Anyway, that's why I can't come today. Hopefully tomorrow?"
After we hung up, I stood in the middle of the goat pen, stunned.
It was all my fault. I'd caused these family problems because of my petty jealousy. It was too late to take it back and what I should've done was step back and let things cool down, then frankly, butt out of it. At the very least, well thought out, rational decisions should have been executed. But I had zero grace under fire. No, I tended to react impulsively, recklessly, and worst of all, emotionally.
So I made up some excuse about being sick and went straight over to the Bishops'.
***
The Bishops' house was tomb silent, not even a housekeeper in sight.
Swallowing hard, I went up the stairs and knocked softly on the heavy oak door. No one answered, but I turned the knob and entered anyway.
The room was empty but I heard trickling water from the bathroom. I called out but there was no answer.
What if she'd hurt herself? Would she do something like that?
Rushing forward, I pushed the door open.
She was sitting in front of her vanity, staring at herself in the mirror without a stitch of clothing on her. The bathroom was still steamy from the shower, the air heavily scented with a suffocatingly cloying floral scent.
Icy blue eyes regarded me through the mirror, and if she was even a little bit surprised, she didn't show it.
"Charlotte?"
"Yes, Layla, it's me. Who did you expect to find in here?"
She turned in her chair, her hair still dripping rivulets of water down her back. I didn't mean to, but my eyes trailed down her body, checking for any injuries. There were none (save for the same scratches she'd had on her neck yesterday) and I immediately felt guilty for doubting Peyton.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to walk in on you - I um, came to apologize."
"Oh?"
"I'll wait outside so you can get dressed," I said, turning.
"I don't mind, it's nothing you don't have yourself." She smiled pleasantly and uncrossed her legs. "What did you want to apologize about?"
I tried my best to keep my eyes on her face but they wandered, because, well, that's what you do when someone's naked in front of you. I wasn't overly modest, but it was uncomfortable. Or maybe it was uncomfortable because I was standing there hating the fact that Jake had seen all this and then some.
Enough with the jealousy! What is wrong with you?
"Layla?"
I blinked. "Right. I didn't mean to make things more complicated for you- it's just that you really scared me yesterday and-"
"You're rambling. I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about."
"I know you're sick."
"Sick?" She laughed. "Of course. So Peyton's finally had "the talk" with you?" She used her fingers to make the air quotes and did a creepy little shimmy with her shoulders. "Let me guess, yesterday?"
I shouldn't have come. I'm making things worse, aren't I?
I nodded.
"I see. Well that certainly explains some things." She went completely quiet after that, her face expressionless.
"Anyway, I just thought... well, I mean, I don't know, if there's anything I can do to help you or you know... if you ever want to talk about anything..."
"Are you offering friendship? You and me?"
I studied her face, but for the life of me, I couldn't interpret her expressions. Peyton's words echoed in my head: Antisocial Personality Disorder, Impulse control disorder, Narcissistic personality disorder, uncontrollable mood swings, compulsive lying... The list went on and on.
Sick, I reminded myself. She can't help herself. "Sure, friends." I said.
"Really? That is so sweet of you, Layla! You know, I think I would like that."
All the little hairs rose on my arms. Charlotte's mannerisms just now, the intonation of her words, even her voice, they all reminded me of... Alice. It was as if she were mimicking her.
I laughed nervously. "Okay."
She smiled sweetly and clasped her hands together. "Well, thank you for coming by, for the apology and the offer of friendship. I do appreciate it and I feel so much better now."
Smiling weakly, I turned to leave.
"Oh, Layla? Are you on your way to see Peyton now?"
"Yes."
"Ah. I wouldn't if I were you."
I frowned at her.
She was studying her fingernails and in horror, I realized that two of them were bloody, one of them nearly torn off. The knuckles on her right hand were split and raw.
"Oh, I'm sorry, did your little talk not include his "sickness", as you two like to call it? Because he's a hundred times worse than I am. Or maybe I should say, better than I am because nobody even suspects, isn't that right Layla? Peyton's just so good, wouldn't you agree?"
She's lying. Walk away.
"Oh, don't look so tragic," she snapped. "He and I, we're the lucky ones."
I don't even remember what I said next or how I got the hell out of there, but I did. What I do know, is that I didn't go up to see Peyton as I'd planned.
And as I pedaled away from their house, I looked back, and for the first time, their beautiful mansion looked utterly terrifying and I couldn't help but wonder about all the other secrets it might harbor.
***
Jake never showed up.
I couldn't say that I was surprised, but I was disappointed. At the same time, I'd been prepared for this and wasn't about to give up that easily. Mumbling a silent apology to the Harris', off I went into the night.
The Waites' front door was locked, so I went around back to his window. I threw some pebbles, but nothing happened.
Come on, Jake, I know you're home. Your truck's out front.
Cursing, I plunked my hands on the ledge and pushed myself up off the ground. I peered into his window. He was in bed, smoking a cigarette.
"I can see you Jake!"
No answer.
The window was cracked so I shimmied my fingers under and pushed. He got up, and moved to slam the window down, his stupid cigarette dangling from his lips.
"Stop!" When he didn't, I shoved my hand into the crack. "You're gonna cut my hand off at the wrist if you close this window!"
"I don't want to hear it," he said.
"You don't even know what I want to say!"
"Whatever it is, I don't want to hear it. Not worth the trouble."
"Can you please open the window? I'm freaking airborne right now and my arms are about to give out!"
"Then let go!"
"No!"
He waited me out a little longer, then sighed and walked away. I used the last of my strength to push the window open but my arms were too weak to hoist myself up. "Can you please help me?"
"What the fuck, Layla!" But he came back, put his hands beneath my armpits and yanked me up and into his room. He released me abruptly and I tumbled into a heap on the floor.
Stumbling back onto my feet, I massaged my biceps. "I didn't do anything. With Peyton. Last night. I mean, not like that. We just talked."
"It's none of my business anyway."
I blinked. What is that supposed to mean?
Jake leaned against his dresser, positioning himself as far away from me as he could get without leaving the room.
"Peyton told me what you guys talked about. And I'm sorry, I totally understand why you couldn't talk about it now. And I know I was being a real bitch last night about everything else too. So yes, I'm sorry. Really, really really sorry."
"Okay."
"Okay what?"
"I accept your apology."
I chewed my lip. "And..?"
"And what?"
"Do you forgive me?"
"I mean, what's there to forgive? You're free to do whatever you want."
Why did he keep saying things like that? But this wasn't the time to pick that bone. "Do you believe me?"
He didn't quite meet my eye. "Yeah, I believe you."
He didn't.
Cautiously, I took a step toward him, then another, until I was standing in front of him. Bracing for rejection, I reached out and touched my fingers to his. When he didn't move them away, I entwined them. "I only want you."
He opened his mouth to say something, but I had a bad feeling about the look on his face so I kissed him instead. He tasted like cigarettes, but I didn't even care.
He didn't kiss me back. "I dunno. Let me think about it."
"Think about what? I promise, I won't ever say mean things about Charlotte again." Actually, I'd wanted to talk to him about what had happened earlier today, but not if it was going to push him further away from me. At this point, I was getting near hysterical at the thought of losing him.
"It's really complicated, Layla."
"I know. I know! He told me. We don't need to talk about it anymore."
The way Jake looked at me, his gaze full of doubt, told me that maybe, just maybe, Peyton hadn't told me everything after all. There were other emotions in his gaze too, compassion and well, pity.
It felt terrible. It was a familiar feeling, being unwanted, a problem, a burden. My heart twisted something ugly, but I forced myself to smile anyway. "Okay. You think about it and let me know." I gave his hand a little squeeze and climbed back out the window.
The moon was full that night, and as I walked back toward the Harris' house, I fully expected myself to burst into tears. But surprisingly, they didn't come.
I was rejected and sent away again, and completely heartbroken, but it wasn't the end of the world. So it seems I liked Jake a lot more than he liked me. But if he didn't think I was worth the trouble, I wasn't about to go begging for some guy to love me, I was better than that.
And you know what? I had the money now, and in a year, I'd leave this place behind and go to college where nobody knew me enough to pity me. Start fresh and new and be like everybody else.
You know, we could go to San Antonio. They have schools there and we'd have Shana.
Yes! Shana! This was something that hadn't been an option before and I couldn't believe I didn't think of it sooner! This changed everything. I wouldn't be so scared with Shana nearby, I'd feel safe and secure just knowing she was a phone call away. Suddenly college seemed more than a pipe dream and my heart skipped a beat in excitement. Yes!
I'd do that. I'd forget about all this worthless romance crap that was going nowhere fast anyway, and focus on SAT prep and getting my grades up next year. Having a plan added a pep to my step as I hurried down the path. I couldn't wait to get back in bed and start googling some schools in San Antonio.
"Layla."
Or, screw that. The heart is so fickle. I turned around and beamed. "Jake!"
"Fuck it, who cares?" He grinned. "Come on, come and make it up to me."
Grinning like an idiot, I did, and we made it alright again.
It was a good thing we did, because the year that followed wouldn't be an easy one for any of us.
And we didn't know it then, but death would touch us a lot sooner than we'd expected.
And in the most unexpected way.
A/N: So... who's getting offed next week?
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