Chapter Thirty-One 

 

 

There is no gradual awakening for me the next morning.  One minute, I’m deep in slumber and the next, I’m being ripped from a dream.  My eyelids spring apart, and I stare at the face hovering inches above my own. 

“What?” I slur, barely coherent. 

“You need to get up,” Austin snaps. 

I don’t think so. 

“No,” I grumble, eyelids already drooping as I float back into sleep. 

All I want to do is roll over and burrow under my blankets until the sun is high in the sky.  I’m exhausted.  I don’t think I’ve ever felt this tired in my life.  I shift my thighs, and a dull ache flares to life between them. 

Oh. 

A smile curls around the edges of my lips as I remember the way Kingsley made love to me last night.  I wanted him to mark me as his and that’s precisely what he did.  I have zero regrets about experiencing sex for the first time outside, under the brilliance of the stars.  It was beautiful and perfect.  Exactly the way it was meant to be. 

Austin shakes my shoulder and my gaze flies to him.  “Get the fuck up, Summer!  It’s important!” 

Oh, for goodness’ sake!  Why is he even up?  It must be the butt crack of dawn. 

“Whatever it is, we can talk about it later,” I mumble. 

“Hell, no!” 

“Why?  What’s so important?” 

I screech when he rips the covers away from my body before tossing them to the end of the bed.  “Mom and Dad were in the study having a meeting with our neighbor.  He just left.” 

I’m about to unload on Austin when his words puncture the grogginess filling my brain. 

“Neighbor?”  I sit up and frown.  Last I checked, we weren’t on friendly terms with anyone in the subdivision.  Not a damn one of them can be bothered to wave when we drive by. 

“Kingsley?”  My heart skips a beat.  Why would he be here, talking to our parents? 

My brother’s upper lip curls.  “No, dumbass.  His father.” 

“Keaton?”  My brow furrows as the questions he pelted at me last night flood my consciousness and the same unease fills me.  “Why?” 

Something indecipherable flickers in his gaze.  “You need to get down there and find out.” 

And just like that, I’m wide awake and scrambling from the bed to grab my robe before padding down the stairs to the study.  I catch a glimpse of my parents with their heads bent together as they quietly converse.  Their gazes jerk to mine as soon as I cross over the threshold.  Austin is right behind me, hovering over my shoulder. 

“Hi, honey!” Dad greets with a forced exuberance that seems strangely out of place this early in the morning.  “Did you sleep well?” 

My gaze narrows, darting from one tense expression to the other.  Mom has an entire set of luggage under her eyes and Dad looks like he hasn’t slept for a week straight.  This is a flashback to how they appeared last night at the party while talking with Keaton. 

“Yeah.”  What little sleep I got.  After Kingsley and I had sex, he held me in his arms, and we stared at the dark canvas of night sky.  Cheesy as it sounds, it felt like the stars were shining for us.  I pointed out all of my favorite constellations and a deep contentment like I’d never experienced stole over me as I lay sprawled across his chest.  

What we shared last night wasn’t just sex. 

It was love. 

He made love to me. 

I won’t fool myself into believing that I’m madly in love with Kingsley, but I could definitely get there.  The seeds have been sown.  All they need to do is flourish and grow. 

“We thought you’d sleep later,” Mom adds in a strained voice. 

The tension filling the study continues to intensify.  I don’t know what it is, but Austin is right.  Something is wrong.  What I don’t understand is how Keaton fits into the equation. 

Yet. 

I don’t understand it yet. 

When they remain silent, I ask, “Why was Kingsley’s father here?” 

A flash of surprise crosses their faces.  Neither seem eager to tackle the question.  Instead, they glance at each other.  A myriad of emotions flicker across their drawn faces.  As their silence stretches, I shift restlessly, wrapping my arms around my middle to still the anxiety unfurling inside me like a flower.  My nerves stretch taut.  I can’t take much more of this. 

“You need to tell her what’s going on,” Austin pipes up from behind me. 

Dad plows a hand through his thick hair and glances away.  “We were actually going to talk with both of you a little later.” 

“About what?” I ask suspiciously. 

“Well,” he pauses, gaze darting to my mother as if she’ll somehow be able to help him muddle through this. 

“Say it,” Austin snaps.  “Tell her what you’ve done!” 

Dad’s body jerks at my brother’s sharp tone.  I’ve never heard Austin speak to our father in such a disrespectful manner.  Sure, he’s gotten shitty before, but this is all together different.  There’s an undercurrent of disgust and anger weaving its way through his tone. 

I wait for Dad to reprimand him.  Instead, he ignores Austin, keeping his attention focused on me.  “We’ve come to an agreement with the Rothchilds.” 

An agreement? 

What for? 

When he lapses into another silence, I impatiently flick my wrist in a circle, prodding him to continue. 

“Remember when we talked about how your great-great-grandfather started the company with Gerald Rothchild?” 

I jerk my head into a nod. 

Dad clears his throat and shifts in his chair.  “I need to fill in some background information, so you understand how the arrangement was struck and agreed upon.” 

Arrangement. 

There’s something unsettling about the way his lips wrap around that word. 

“I wasn’t entirely forthcoming with you about what happened with the company.  The two men did start it together, but after twenty years in business, along with a friendship that had become strained, Herbert decided he wanted sole ownership.  Over the years, the company had turned quite a handsome profit and naturally, Gerald wasn’t interested in being bought out.  So Herbert, um, went about some nefarious activities to wrestle control away from his partner.” 

Nefarious activities? 

At any other time, such a dramatic description would have me bursting into laughter.  Instead, I remain frozen in place as a swarm of butterflies multiply in my belly. 

When he doesn’t continue, I prod, “What happened?” 

He shrugs.  “No one knows for sure, but everyone has their suspicions.  The two men attended their long-standing Friday night poker game at a friend’s house.  Around midnight, Gerald left to return home and was never seen again.  Nor was his body ever found.  Months after the search, Herbert produced documents showing that Gerald had signed over the company to the Hawthorne family for pennies on the dollar.” 

When I attempt to gulp down my rising nausea, I realize my mouth has gone bone dry.  Barely am I able to push the question out.  “What are you saying, Dad?  Do you think your great-grandfather murdered Gerald Rothchild?” 

“I don’t know.”  Sadness fills his eyes as he shakes his head.  “Do I think there’s a high likelihood?  Yeah, probably.  They were partners for twenty years.  Each wanted to take the company in a different direction and there were a lot of disputes which led to bad blood.  After Gerald disappeared and Herbert produced papers that transferred ownership, the animosity only grew worse.  There was a lot of ugly speculation about the Hawthornes.” 

God. 

What the hell kind of people do I have lurking in my family tree? 

The nefarious kind, that’s who. 

No wonder Kingsley’s family hates us so much.  After learning the full story, I can’t blame them for it. 

“Ever since Gerald disappeared, there has been a rift between the town and the Hawthornes.”  Dad’s voice grows weary as if the burden of our family history weighs heavily on him.  “I grew up here, Summer.  I know exactly what it was like.  And your Grandma Rose didn’t help matters.”  He concedes by adding, “Now, I’m not saying it was entirely her fault.  I think the residents treated her poorly while growing up and that skewed her feelings.  After she took over the company and moved into a position of power, she wielded her control with an iron fist.  It only made them hate her more.”  He rubs his temples with the tips of his fingers.  “It’s one reason I left town as soon as I could and never looked back.  I didn’t want anything to do with the family business.” 

Holy.

Crap. 

I have no words. 

A heavy silence blankets the room. 

“Why would you think a party could fix this?”  I shake my head as it continues to spin.  Honestly, I don’t know what my parents could do to make the situation better.  With the Rothchilds or the residents of Hawthorne who still seem to hate us with the same intensity they did fifty years ago. 

His gaze flickers away, almost as if he’s unable to hold my eyes.  “We never expected the party to fix everything.  It was never meant to be anything more than a baby step in the right direction.” 

I’m not even sure if it was that.  I snuck out early.  It’s always possible that the party ended better than it started.  But like he said, it was a baby step.  There has to be more to the plan than a cocktail party. 

“So what are we going to do?  How can we make up for what happened in the past?”  I can’t imagine my parents spending the rest of their lives in this godforsaken town if nothing changes.  Sadder than that, I can’t blame these people for how they feel about us.  The Hawthorne name is stamped on everything. 

The company. 

The school. 

The town. 

It’s a constant reminder of what we stole from the Rothchild family and the tyranny that later followed.  The whole situation makes me sick to my stomach. 

Dad gives me a tight smile.  “It’s a relief to hear that you’re willing to help rectify the past mistakes that have been made.” 

Is he crazy?

“Of course, I do!”  Although I have no idea how we can rebrand the family name.  We would have to do something big enough for the entire town to view us in a different light.  A better light.  Like...give away a certain percentage of our profits every year or set up a foundation that directly benefits the people in town.  Maybe create an endowment or a scholarship fund for kids to attend college.  Those are definitely ideas to consider, but none seem splashy enough to make an actual difference and turn the tide against our family. 

“Since I’ve taken over the business,” Dad says, interrupting my thoughts, “I’ve spent a lot of time going through old family records, trying to piece together all the historical documents so we have an accurate picture of the past.”  He waves his hand as he rattles off information.  “What the company was worth when Gerald went missing verses what Herbert paid to the family.  What were the profit margins each year when it was owned solely by the Hawthornes.  Inflation needs to be factored into the equation.”  He pauses as his gaze shifts from me to my brother and then back again.  “The Rothchilds have been cheated out of hundreds of millions of dollars first from the sale of the company and then in yearly profits.” 

My jaw drops. 

“There’s no way we can repay that,” Austin grunts.  

I have to agree with my brother.  I’m no chief financial officer, but even I realize that eighty years of lost profits adds up to be an astronomical amount. 

Dad nods.  “Unfortunately, you’re right.  The interest alone would bankrupt us.” 

My head swims with the effort of trying to conceptualize such a number.  All this happened because Herbert Hawthorne was a greedy bastard who wanted everything for himself. 

“There’s one last piece you need to know about,” Dad continues. 

Good Lord, there’s more? 

“Apparently Grandma Rose had a coming to Jesus moment before she died.” 

My brows furrow in confusion. 

A coming to what? 

“She decided to make amends for the past.  For what her grandfather stole from the Rothchilds.” 

Finally, a bit of good news. 

“A month before my mother died, she set up a meeting with Keaton and shared all the information she had been privy to.  Lawyers were involved, and she wrote out a very detailed account of what her grandfather did and then signed an affidavit so it would stand up in a court of law if that became necessary.” 

A prickle of unease settles deep inside me.  Where the hell is he going with this? 

“So, she did a good thing, right?”  My breath becomes trapped in my lungs as I try to process all of this newly gleaned information. 

Dad shakes his head before blowing out a lengthy breath.  “I suppose it’s good for the Rothchilds.  Keaton now has the leverage to legally take the company from us.  With all the supporting documents, compliments of Grandma Rose, he can prove that the company was stolen from his family and we’ll be left with nothing.  Actually, it’ll be much worse than that because if he wins, which I assume he will from everything I’ve looked at, he’ll sue us for interest that was lost on company profits for the past eighty years.” 

What! 

How could Grandma Rose do this to us?  Why would she deliberately try to ruin our family? 

And here I’d thought it was Kingsley trying to mindfuck me.  Turns out it was Grandma Rose playing games from beyond the grave.  “Is there anything we can do to prevent Keaton from taking us to court?” 

“We have one avenue that allows us to avoid losing the company and drowning in debt.” 

Thank fuck. 

When Dad remains silent, Austin mutters, “Tell her.” 

I glance back at my brother.  By the pinched expression he’s wearing, I realize he knows what’s coming and doesn’t like it. 

“Tell her what you did!” he shouts.  

My father flinches before saying in halting tones, “Keaton will drop the lawsuit if you agree to marry his son.” 

For a heartbeat, I stare.  It’s as if all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room and I can’t breathe. 

This is a joke, right? 

I wait for someone to chuckle.  Instead, the tension continues to escalate until high-pitched laughter fills the air.  It takes a moment to realize that it’s coming from me. 

“That’s not funny,” I croak. 

Dad’s solemn expression never falters, which only scares me more.  “It wasn’t meant to be.” 

“Why would he want that?”  It feels as if I’m being strangled from the inside out.  “It doesn’t make sense.  Why would he want his son to marry the great-great-granddaughter of the man who probably murdered his great-grandfather and stole his legacy?” 

Dad’s shoulders slump.  “It’s his way of extracting a pound of flesh.  The idea is when you and Kingsley have children, it’ll be a mix of both our blood, and no one will be able to steal anything from them again.” 

A wave of shock slides through me. 

Marriage? 

Children? 

With Kingsley? 

Are these people insane?  I’m an eighteen-year-old girl in her senior year of high school!  How can I be expected to get married?  I’ve barely had a boyfriend.  In fact, I’ve only slept with— 

Kingsley. 

“Sweetie?”  Mom clears her throat and for the first time since this horrific conversation began, my gaze shifts to her.  She’s been so quiet that I almost forgot she was sitting beside Dad.  “I know this is a shock,” she bites her lower lip and glances away, “but we need you to do this.  Everything we had in Chicago is gone.  The house, our jobs, the little bit of savings we had in the bank.  It’s all gone.  What your grandmother left us is tied up in the house and company.  With the provisions she added to the will, we can’t sell anything for ten years.  Even if we wanted to, we couldn’t give the company to Keaton.  All the proceeds would revert to charity.”  Her lips twist with bitterness.  “It was your grandmother’s ultimate parting gift to us.  But,” she gulps, forcing out the rest in a rush, “as long as you agree to marry Kingsley, the Hawthornes retain ownership of the company and continue to split the profits.” 

What the fuck? 

That’s so messed up.  How is any of this real?  This isn’t the eighteen-hundreds.  They can’t marry me off to save themselves. 

I shake my head to clear it of the black haze attempting to press in at the edges.  I keep expecting them to burst into laughter and scream—got you!  Just kidding.  When they remain sickeningly silent, I realize that isn’t going to happen. 

“Are you really asking me to do this?”  I claw at my throat, feeling lightheaded. 

“I’m sorry,” Dad mumbles.  “If there was another way...” 

“Isn’t there?”  It takes effort to blink back the tears that prick my eyes.  “Isn’t there something else that can be done?” 

“No, the company lawyers have been pouring over both the will and the affidavit your grandmother signed with a fine-tooth comb.  They’re both ironclad.  You either marry Kingsley or Keaton takes the company and bankrupts us.  That’s the choice.”    

As the reality of his words sink in, my knees buckle, and I collapse.  Austin catches me with a grunt, his arms locking around my chest to hold me up. 

This is lunacy.  They can’t seriously be asking me to marry someone I barely know.  When it comes down to it, I’m a kid.  My entire life is stretched out ahead of me.  I’ve only begun to work on my applications for... 

“What about college?”  Am I supposed to give up all my dreams? 

“Of course, you’ll still go,” Dad says hastily. 

“But it’ll need to be local,” Mom adds in a quiet voice. 

“You and Kingsley will decide on a school and that’s where you’ll attend.”  Dad twists his hands together in front of him, barely able to make eye contact. 

“Oh my God, you’re marrying me off right now?”  A shriek builds in my chest as the walls of the study press in on me. 

“No,” Dad forces out a brittle laugh, “nothing will happen for a while.  You’re still in high school.” 

Well, thank fuck for that. 

“When?”  I push out the question as all of this information whips through my head making it impossible to think.  My reality no longer feels real.  Somehow, I’ve become trapped in a terrifying nightmare. 

“Well,” he clears his throat, “the terms of the agreement state that it would be a suitable time for you to marry after freshman year of college.” 

“Oh,” I snap, jerking out of my brother’s hold, “is that what you all decided?”  I drive my fingers through the wild tangle of my hair as I pace the width of the study before stopping in front of the window to stare out sightlessly.  “I can’t believe you’ve bargained away my future!” 

“Honey—” 

“No!”  A burst of fury explodes inside me as I spin toward my parents.  “What you’ve done is sold me to save yourselves!”  Tears sting my eyes.  This is so much more than a betrayal.  I’ll never be able to trust them again. 

“Will it really be so bad?” Mom asks.  “We met Kingsley last night, and he seems like a lovely boy.” 

I’m slammed with the realization that he knew about this. 

How could he not? 

But when?  When did he find out? 

Has he known the entire time? 

God, it really was all a mindfuck.  I’m so stupid for believing anything that came out of his mouth. 

His words crash through my head. 

You belong to me. 

Once you’re mine, I will never let you go. 

Bile churns in my gut.  Any moment, I’m going to be sick. 

He used me. 

Just like my parents are using me. 

It’s all part of the same elaborate scheme. 

I stare blindly at my parents. 

There are no more words, only emptiness. 

Unable to bear the sight of them, I leave the study and head to the staircase. 

Like a kaleidoscope, my world has shifted.  Only this time, there’s no way to make it right again.