Paris
I WAS IN shock.
Tyler hadn’t stepped foot back in London’s room and more than thirty minutes had passed.
He wasn’t coming to get me.
We.
Were.
Married.
We were supposed to work things out. Discuss them like two mature human beings. Not go off on our own to sulk and brood like high schoolers.
So what if Tyler’s father and my sister hooked up? They would have been the same age, and if you thought about it, it made sense. Private school kids always hooked up.
Then there was the off-limits thing about the family feud that only made the other person more inviting.
It was the same old Fairchilds versus Holidays for her as it was for me.
The forbidden fruit you couldn’t help but want to take a bite from. It was attractive to me, and I was sure it was to my sister, too.
After all, we’d both been warned to stay clear of a Holiday boy, so what did we do, gravitate right toward him, of course.
We were sisters, after all.
And she wasn’t perfect. Wasn’t perfect like I thought. Not by a long shot. It appeared my father just had unrealistic expectations for the both of us.
I pondered what I’d read.
London had been fooling around with a Holiday behind my parents’ back, just like me. And just like me, she’d willingly told our father.
Yet, she hadn’t been banished.
Seriously, how was she not even grounded for life after that confession?
Why was I different? Was he afraid he’d lose me like he had her? Was it love not hate?
Chaos was all I felt.
I wanted to talk to Tyler about it. See what he thought. Discuss my feelings about all of this.
But he wasn’t here.
Tyler. Tyler. Tyler.
So, his father was a jerk. So was mine. The biggest difference, my father never laid a hand on me. I couldn’t say the same for Tyler’s.
Okay, so it was true. My sister and Tyler’s father had been involved with each other.
Ewww.
I ran through scenarios in my head where the marriage between Tyler and I might be considered incestuous, but none actually made sense.
I was being ridiculous for no reason.
It took another few minutes of trying to let everything sink in before I was able to leave London’s room and go after my temporary husband, who was becoming more and more temporary by the minute.
I found him outside sitting on the front porch.
There was a bottle of whiskey from my father’s bar in one of his hands and his phone sat beside him. An unlit joint dangled from his mouth and he had a lighter in the other hand that he was flicking over and over and over.
He looked completely lost.
Wrapping the blanket I’d grabbed from the sofa tighter around myself, I closed the door behind me.
It was cold.
Really cold.
At least he’d thrown a coat over his bare chest and slipped into unlaced boots, so he wasn’t going to freeze to death.
“You look so Rebel Without a Cause,” I offered sardonically.
Tyler didn’t say anything. No quick comeback. Not even a grunt in response.
I sat beside him on the step and tucked the wool beneath my bare feet to wrap my body entirely.
He just stared out into the darkness.
The first thing I did to change the narrative was to pluck the joint from his lips and tuck it behind his ear. Then I took the bottle from his hand to replace it with my own hand, warm whereas his was cold. “Talk to me, Tyler. What’s going on in that head of yours?”
Putting an end to the flicking of the lighter. He turned toward me and his tormented blue eyes were dim and drained and full of despair. “Your sister goes to a party at my father’s house and dies on her way home, and that sits okay with you?”
The shock I’d been feeling turned to uneasiness. “I’m not sure what you’re looking for, Tyler. He wasn’t with her. She died alone, that much we know. Accidents do happen. Who knows, maybe she was upset about something, or maybe she’d been drinking. Or maybe, just maybe, she was happy. I doubt we’ll ever really know. Regardless, it was a long time ago, and we weren’t even born. It has nothing to do with us.”
His throat wobbled when he swallowed like he was trying to get past a lump of emotion he couldn’t swallow. “It just doesn’t feel right. I tried to reach Wilhelmina, but she’s not answering. She’ll know something. I’d bet on it.”
This wasn’t going to be good. I shivered, the repercussions of unburying secrets not the only thing causing dread to knot in my belly. “Maybe we should leave well enough alone?”
As he looked away, I couldn’t help but think everything about him was changing. The way he sat so taut and filled with tension. The way he sounded. The way he squeezed his hands and fists like he was mad at the entire world. “I can’t do that, Paris.”
I shivered again and then took the bottle I’d set down and brought it to my lips.
Snapping his head in my direction, he watched as I sipped it and noticed when I made a face as I did. When I was done, he took the whiskey from me to tip it to his own lips and then he set it down.
Soon after, he pulled that joint from behind his ear and placed it between his lips, lighting it. The flame illuminated the features of his face and he looked so lost, so alone so desolate.
This was the Tyler I remembered all too well.