Tamed: A Huntress Spin-off Novel Page 4

  Maybe it was because of the lack of attention I got at home.

  “I don’t like talking about my past. Don’t bring it up,” I said with an edge to my voice as I scowled.

  “You’re okay, though? After what happened last night.” He looked at the cut on my lip, shaking his head as anger flashed across his eyes.

  I nodded. “I’m okay.”

  I wasn’t okay, but admitting that I was hurting would have prolonged the conversation when I was already begging my mind to forget.

  A soft knock at my door was my saving grace.

  “Come in,” my father said.

  The uncomfortable pressure I felt while he questioned me immediately lifted as soon as the attention was no longer on me, and that was how I wanted it to stay.

  A tall, slender, bleach blonde woman, who had her hair pulled back in a tight bun, walked in. She gave a tight smile as she played with the diamond necklace around her neck.

  “Sir, there is an important call waiting.” She must have been his personal assistant.

  He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Okay, Lena, I will be right there.”

  He grabbed the present from the end of my bed and placed it in my lap. “Open it.”

  I ripped the wrapping paper off, opened the box, and pushed the white and purple tissue paper aside to see a Fendi, petite, 2Jours monster tote bag.

  I beamed. Oh, it was so beautiful. “Thanks, Dad. I know I don’t deserve it.” I leaned in and kissed his cheek.

  “Enjoy it. Just know that if you do anything stupid like this again, it will be mine until I decide to give it back to you.” He looked at me apologetically. “I don’t mean to cut our time short, but I better go. I’m working on a big case.”

  I rolled my eyes. He was always working on a big case. Fortunately, for me, I was used to him getting whisked away at any time to his law firm, or getting stuck in his home office on conference calls, so I learned not to take it to heart at a young age.

  “Okay, I guess I will see you around.”

  He kissed my forehead and stood. “We’ll have dinner soon. I told Charlotte to leave the mess for you.”

  My brows rose. “Charlotte, Dad?”

  He shook his head, closing his eyes briefly, as if he made a mistake. “Ms. Schultz to you.”

  “Since when do you call the housekeeper Charlotte?”

  He made his way to the door, ignoring my question. “You have house duty today. No more parties and stay out of trouble.”

  I chuckled. “Okay.” That may or may not happen.

  He gave me a stern look. “I mean it, Paige.”

  When he left, I was surrounded in the silence I dreaded so much. I took in a breath. I needed air. I needed something to take the hurt away, but nothing ever did. I was miserable, and it was getting harder to try to hide it. I was trying to survive when all I felt was hopelessness as I struggled to climb out of the black hole I fell down years ago.

  I had to get out of this room. I couldn’t handle the quietness any longer. I jumped out of bed and sat down at my vanity, frowning at the cut on my lip. I winced as I ran my finger over the cut.

  “Sore.”

  Reaching for my makeup bag, I took out my mocha, brown lip gloss and coated my lips until the nasty cut was barely even noticeable. Just how I wanted it. If it was out of sight, there was little chance anyone would notice it, which would save me from having to answer questions I would much rather avoid.

  I breathed through the heavy weight that pained my very being and walked as fast as I could out of the room, in a hurry to run away from the sereneness that allowed thoughts to wander back to the deep, dark places of my mind that I never wanted to visit again.

  The mansion was an absolute mess, reminding me why I preferred to go to parties instead of actually throwing them. The cleanup. As I made my way downstairs, stepping over solo cups and broken glass that was scattered all around, I heard Taylor’s voice coming from the living room.

  I exhaled. “Damn it,” I said through gritted teeth.

  Taylor was the last person I wanted to see. I knew he would want answers just like my father did, but I wouldn’t give him any. I was trying to move on and let what happened last night sail away into the past, and I couldn’t do that when they were only forcing me to remember. It was impossible to sneak past the living room and into the kitchen without him noticing me. Oh well, I guess I was just going to have to deal with it.

  I walked down the staircase and glanced into the living room where Taylor and Chelsea, his tall, very beautiful, like model beautiful, girlfriend with long, blonde locks were sitting down watching a movie. I hoped they wouldn’t stop me if they saw me. I didn’t want to talk about last night.

  I hurried into the kitchen, where bottles of alcohol and solo cups covered the granite countertops and breakfast bar. A blue bra hung from the matte, black chandelier, and chocolate syrup and whip cream, of all things, was smudged all over the floor, as if it was used as a slip n slide.

  I stood by the entryway of the kitchen, looking around. I was absolutely astounded by the mess. I could have cared less what they did last night, but now that I was completely sober and had to clean up the mess with a monster hangover, I was pretty damn irritated.

  I opened the paneled refrigerator, took out the orange juice, and poured myself a drink. I turned and grabbed the vodka from the counter and poured it in my orange juice, deciding to make a Screwdriver. I felt like utter shit. Plus, the constant sorrow that weighed me down dragged me farther into the darkness. Most days I was able to brush it off and not think so much about my regret, but today, I just couldn’t…not after last night.

  I had never been sexually assaulted and smacked around by a guy before. After the shock of what happened settled in during the night, the misery that clouded my mind and body had worsened. I was hoping a little alcohol would take the edge off. I took a gulp as the vodka and orange juice filled my mouth, and it was strong. I put more than what I should have, but it was intentional.

  I felt my body tense up as Taylor and Chelsea walked in the kitchen. I sat my glass down and wiped my mouth. Taylor, with a grin on his face, whispered something to Chelsea, who then let out a chuckle as she elbowed him in the stomach. He must have been teasing her. Typical Taylor.

  Taylor sat down at the breakfast bar. “Hey, rebel.”

  I pursed my lips. “Very funny.”

  “You sure know how to throw one hell of a party,” Chelsea said.

  “You might even do it better than Violet,” Taylor said.

  “Violet?”

  “Yep, she’s a petite, feisty little thing. I’m sure you’ll meet her eventually,” Taylor said.

  My eyes widened as Chelsea reached for her glass of orange juice that she left on the counter. It wasn’t until that moment that I noticed I had stupidly placed my glass right next to hers and, of course, she grabbed mine.

  I gasped and looked down at her swollen, pregnant belly. “No!”

  By the time I reached for the glass, the orange juice was already rushing into her mouth. Her eyes grew wide as she spit the drink back out and began to cough. Taylor, who sat directly across from where she stood, gasped and shot up out of his seat as the juice sprayed all over his face.

  “What the hell, woman!”

  “Vodka…a lot of vodka,” Chelsea managed to say in between coughs.

  Taylor scowled. “Really, Paige. She is pregnant!”

  “Hey, I didn’t know she was going to drink my juice.”

  “What are you doing drinking vodka this early in the morning?”

  I folded my arms. “Well, what’s it to you? You drank a lot when you broke up with Chelsea. You and that Isaac guy had plenty of women here, drinking tons and having sex.”

  “You did?” Chelsea’s tone was high with surprise.

  He shrugged, as if it was no big deal when to him, it was. He didn’t want her to know how ugly and mean he became when they went their separate ways. Alcohol and women were his medicine, just
like alcohol was mine now. After he saw Chelsea with someone else, it opened his eyes. He knew he had to get her back, so he pushed the booze aside and no longer felt like he needed to hide the fact that he was showing other women a good time. So he set his sights on Gianna, on purpose of course, because she lived at the manor he moved in to. Jealousy was the game they played, and in no time the both of them were back in the other’s arms once again.

  “It was only a couple of times. I was feeling sorry for myself and the bullshit I constantly had to deal with. It became too much, so I started to drink.” He frowned as he pointed his finger at me. “You were the reason I broke up with her.”

  I gasped, feeling a sting of hurt. “What?! I never came between you two. I was doing my own thing.”

  “Exactly. You were doing all the wrong things and I had to try to keep you out of trouble.”

  I scowled and folded my arms. “I never asked you to babysit me, Taylor.”

  “Someone had to. Mom lived in California, and Dad was never home, so someone had to be the authority figure—well, at least try to be, anyway. I was a teenager, too. I wanted to have fun and be carefree, too, but I couldn’t do that because I was too consumed with making sure you didn’t wind up accidently killing someone else!” All of his pent up anger toward me just kept pouring out, wounding me further.

  It hit me so hard; the pain, the regret, everything I was trying so hard to run away from slammed into me, forcing me to suck in a deep breath. I casted my eyes down. I didn’t want to feel the pain, but I couldn’t stop it either. My heart, my soul felt like it was withering away, slowly dying from the waves of sorrow that crashed through my insides. I was drowning when all I wanted was to swim. The fragile armor of glass that I worked so hard to build over the years was finally cracking. Everything was happening all at once. The hurt just kept piling on, and soon, very soon, that glass was going to shatter.

  I heard him sigh, but I wouldn’t look up, I couldn’t.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” he said.

  I didn’t care—at least, I didn’t want to care. I didn’t want to hurt anyone; it wasn’t my intention.

  I said nothing. I tried to brush it off as much as I could. Grabbing my drink, I began to gulp it down.

  “Alcohol isn’t going to solve anything. If you’re troubled and need to talk, you could talk to me, you know,” Chelsea said.

  Sympathy filled her baby blue eyes. Oh God, she pitied me. Was I that much of a sad sight to see?

  “I think I’m going to pass.”

  I didn’t let anyone in anymore. Walking away was the better option for me, because the longer I stood there dwelling on the past while Taylor smacked me in the face with everything I wished I could change, the more power I fed my destructive beast. So I walked away.

  “Where are you going?” Taylor asked.

  As my irritation grew, I spun around and glared at him. “Don’t worry about where I’m going. You don’t have to watch over me. I am not a teenager anymore!”

  His faced hardened as his chest rose and fell quickly. As I turned around to walk away once more, I gasped as he gripped my arm and yanked me forward. It was then that I saw a streak of orange rush through his eyes.

  “I’m your brother. I will always feel the need to watch over you!”

  I winced as he squeezed my arm, feeling pain rip through my muscles and soar down to my wrist. “Let go of me!”

  “Taylor,” Chelsea said, warning him not to do anything irrational.

  He cut her a look from the corner of his eye then let me go. I stormed out of the kitchen.

  This wasn’t the Taylor I was used to. Whoever that guy was back there definitely wasn’t my brother. He had never been the kind of man to get aggressive with women, and he had always been a mild tempered person. Now, it seems like he had trouble keeping his temper under control, but I knew that had everything to do with me. I brought out the worst in him. And his eyes. I knew I saw his eyes begin to turn orange. Something was going on around here. I could feel it. Taylor, Eli, and Chelsea were hiding something, and it left an eerie feeling in my stomach.

  As my phone began to vibrate in my back pocket, I reached for it and opened the message.

  Andie: Don’t make any plans tonight. We’re going out.”

  I smiled as I quickly typed back.

  Andie, I love you so much right now! Take me away, take me far away. I can’t wait until tonight. I need to let loose!

  I didn’t care where she was taking me. I was relieved to get away from this home and the weird people in it.

  Chapter Four

  I stood in my bathroom with a towel wrapped around my shivering body as the water from my hair and legs dripped on the bathroom rug. I was observing my arm, the one Taylor had squeezed, and noticed a nasty bruise had begun to form on my skin. As I looked back on the morning, I saw the rage that stirred inside of him. I felt the incredible strength that had marked me. There was so much power behind his anger that it had actually frightened me for a moment.

  I shook my head. “What happened to him?” I said to myself.

  The more I thought about the altercation between Taylor and me, the angrier I became. I didn’t like the person he had become, but I was sure he could say the same about me.

  I grabbed my towel from the bathroom vanity and ran it through my hair, soaking up the excess water. As I looked up into the mirror, I saw Chelsea walking in my bathroom.

  My body sagged as I let out a breath. I turned around and scowled as I held out my arm, showing her the bruise. “Did you come to bruise me up, too?”

  I walked past her and entered my bedroom, grabbing my purple, leopard print boy shorts from my bed and sliding them up my legs before dropping my towel and putting my matching bra on.

  Chelsea stood by the bathroom door with her arms folded. “He’s really sorry, you know. Sometimes he can’t-” She paused, searching for the right words to say. “Control his temper when he is upset,” She finished.

  “That’s what I don’t understand. He has never had a bad temperament, so what has changed now? Is it me?”

  I realized the longer I stayed there, the more questions I had that would constantly swirl around my head. Taylor, my own flesh and blood, had become a mystery, someone to solve, and I was determined to unlock his secrets.

  I grabbed my black, lace bustier top and skimpy, black, high waist, flared, mini skirt and put it on.

  “Well, you do test him, but the reason he is the way he is, is not because of you.”

  “Then it must be your doing. He was fine until he met you.”

  She said nothing while her eyes said everything, yet she wasn’t going to open up. Feeling the burning embers ignite a fire of frustration within me, I shook my head and walked back into the bathroom. I grabbed my hair brush that was lying on the bathroom vanity and brushed the knots from my thick hair. Our eyes locked in the mirror as she stood behind me, watching me brush my hair.

  “Was there anything in particular that you needed?” I snipped out.

  Her brows rose as she folded her arms, clearly annoyed with me just brushing her off. “Do you have somewhere else to be, Paige? Am I keeping you from something?”

  Oh yeah, very annoyed.

  “Well, I’m supposed to be going out with Andie in two hours.”

  “Your father asked Taylor to stay here to watch over you. He’s not going to let you leave here and cause havoc.”

  I dropped my brush on the vanity and faced her, placing my hand on my hip. I was getting sick and tired of everyone telling me what I could and could not do.

  “Are we done here?” I snapped.

  As I said it, though, I immediately felt a sting of regret. I liked Chelsea. I didn’t know her that well to be the best of friends with her, but she had always been kind to me on those occasions. It felt wrong to just shove her away. She didn’t deserve that. As I opened my mouth to apologize, I stopped when she began to laugh. It wasn’t a joyful, happy laugh either;
it was one of those ‘I’m so flipping frustrated with you I have no other choice but to laugh’ laughs.

  I tensed, completely caught off guard as she came toward me, her swollen stomach brushing against me as she invaded my personal space. “You don’t know me that well, Paige. You’ve only met me twice, and I really am trying my hardest to be nice to you when all I want to do is smack the brattiness right out of your ass. I’m sure when you were younger, your parents thought it was adorable, but you’re nineteen now and it’s not cute anymore, so I advise you to knock the shit off. It’s not very wise to piss off a pregnant woman, and I’m not having such a great day, so if you want to try me, now is the perfect time!”

  If only they were ever around to see if I was a brat. I wished they had been. Maybe I wouldn’t have had to try so damn hard to get at least an inkling amount of attention from them when I was younger. Maybe then I wouldn’t have made such a rash decision and wound up with blood on my hands.

  I slid to the side away from her, creating some much needed space between us. “Okay, this is ridiculous. I’m not going to fight you. You’re pregnant, anyway.”

  She laughed, and this time it was light and held so much amusement.

  As curiosity struck me, my brows knitted together. “What?”

  “Oh…nothing.”

  Okay then. How she managed to find humor in that was beyond me. Why must everyone be so weird and cryptic around here?

  “I actually came to see if you were okay. Taylor grabbed you a little too roughly, but I guess you don’t take well to kindness. I will see you downstairs.” She shrugged, gave a half-smile, and then to turned to leave.

  With only an hour left until I had to meet Andie, I finished getting ready and headed downstairs. I wasn’t going to let Taylor, or anyone else, tell me that I couldn’t go out. Despite being the rebel they all knew, never did I ever intend on causing problems that got me in trouble in the past, and tonight was no different. They didn’t really know me, and I was not interested in letting anyone else in anymore either.