Saviors: A Reverse Harem Bully Romance (Pawns of Patience Book 4) Page 15

  “Seconded.” Grant nods.

  I hold my breath as everyone turns to look at Francis. “Unanimous vote.” There’s a weird bit of tension for a second until the man adds, “Thank fucking finally. I thought I’d be dealing with this shit until the day I died.”

  Well, hell. It looks like this was what all of them wanted all along. I imagine the one person who’d been standing in the way of stopping things long before now had been Ed himself, who’s now no longer an issue, obviously.

  Grant stands, looking like he’s in no hurry to sit around chit-chatting now that my decision’s been made official by the group of them. He offers me his hand and gives me a firm handshake. I know this is what he’d hoped for when he came to visit me, and I’m just glad it seems to have worked out. And without anyone tearing into me for keeping their son on my carousel of boyfriends—oh god, I better never say that aloud in front of them. They would fucking hate to know I like thinking of them in such fluffy terms.

  “I’m meeting with my divorce attorney,” he whispers with a wink.

  I try not to let myself feel too good about the fact that he’s thanking me for that. It’s a weird thing to be in the middle of, though I absolutely wish Celia nothing but the worst for the rest of her pathetic life. Not only did she take advantage of Ace, which was one hundred different kinds of fucked up, but I’m sure her combination of drinking and drug problems had quite a bit to do with Sadie’s own struggles. All she’s done apparently is the ruin the lives of people around her. Her husband, too, apparently, since he’s so eager to be rid of her.

  It’s no wonder Pearl had such obvious disdain for the woman, considering all she knew about her. Pearl was the one in charge of Hollis’ files by the time all that stuff with Ace came about, which means Pearl was the one that had to deal with it. A funny thought strikes me from out of nowhere. It’s probably why she left me alone with Ace that night when he brought me home drunk. She thought there was no way he would repeat what was done to him. I make a mental note to give him an extra long kiss later. I don’t think I’ll ever stop feeling bad for him for what he went through.

  Grant makes his exit, and that seems to be a sign for everyone else to do the same.

  Francis pauses on his way out to shake my hand, just as Grant did. He leans close to tell me, “My son is very taken with you, and I’ll admit I’ve made myself scarce because of my history with Hollis. I apologize for that. I hope we’ll see you around more. Maybe you can come for dinner.” There’s so much respect for me in his eyes that it nearly makes break down into tears.

  “I’d really like that,” I say, clearing my throat to keep the emotion in check as he goes.

  It’s just Patrick’s mom and I left now. She crosses the room to me and I’m half expecting another handshake, but she goes in for the full hug. She was the one I was most worried about having a bad reaction to the atypical relationship I’m sharing with her son, but she doesn’t say a word. I think that speaks volumes. Her quiet acceptance means everything to me.

  “Let’s walk out together,” Neema suggests. I have a feeling she’s thought the same thing I have, that it’s probably best I not go anywhere alone for a while after facing Ed Woods. We already know he’s more than willing to play dirty to get ahead. I don’t want to be a casualty of that obsession. She walks ahead of me on the steps but falls into step beside me when we’re back on the main floor. She sticks close to my side like that all the way out to my car. It’s there she pauses thoughtfully.

  “I think what happened here today was for the best, my dear,” Neema says, patting the back of my shoulder in a motherly way. The gesture is wholly unfamiliar, but it offers a comfort I really need after how drained I feel now.

  I bite at my bottom lip. “You really think so?” I ask.

  “I do.”

  I look back at The Patience Club, hoping I don’t have to make another appearance here anytime soon. Nothing good has ever really existed here, as far as I’m concerned. There’s a darkness to the club—one that I hope will be erased when word gets out about what’s been going on there. The country club won’t be a place that anyone can hide anymore. And while I know that won’t erase the parts of this town that are bad to their core, I have to believe in the quintessential superhero trope—that good will always triumph over evil.

  I tear my eyes away to turn back to Neema for a final time before I get the hell out of here so I can go tell the guys what happened.

  “I was expecting a little more out of all of this, to be honest. At least something a little more dungeon looking, maybe?” I joke, remembering the empty room downstairs. She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

  “Secret societies aren’t all robes and human sacrifices, Juliet. Sometimes it’s just a quiet meeting in a room full of very powerful people.” Neema looks me square in the eyes. “And maybe that’s the kind of secret people should always fear the most.”

  Chapter Twenty

  My breath catches in my throat as the house comes into view. Already, there are cars lining the street and loud music pouring from the cracks and crevices of the house. It’s been months since I’ve been to the Forrester house, but my eyes slide to the little red car sitting parked in the driveway. It feels like a thousand years ago that I slid into the front seat of the sports car and listened to Brock Forrester spout his bullshit about Hollis’ treasure.

  I wrap my arms around my middle as we walk, pulling my jacket tighter as a violent shiver wracks my body. There’s a late autumn chill to the air, but I’m not sure my reaction’s to the cold—not entirely at least. This is the first house party I’ve been to since all the shit that went down at the start of the year party. And even though I’m being flanked by Sadie and Salma, even though all the guys are waiting for us inside, even though I’ve picked skinny jeans with a high-neck top instead of wearing a dress, I still feel uneasy as we approach the front of the house.

  We don’t bother to knock or ring a doorbell—the music’s too loud, and the crowd’s already too rowdy. I force the nervous shaking away as I steady my hand to turn the doorknob. I’ve been through too much over the past couple months, handled more than my fair share of crap that never should have been mine to handle in the first place, to let something like a stupid freaking house party freak me out. I square my shoulders as we step into the front hallway, determined to have a good time with my girls. Everything’s basically taken care of at this point, anyway, and it’s not like Kareem’s hiding in a corner waiting for me or something. Still, I can’t shake the feeling that something’s off as we push through the crowd toward the living room.

  “I can’t believe how many people are already here!” Sadie calls over the loud music, and Salma nods along enthusiastically. I can’t believe how many people are already drunk, but I keep that particular thought to myself. The kids in Patience are definitely products of their upbringing.

  A red plastic cup crinkles under my feet, and I fight to keep a grimace off of my face as I suggest we try to find somewhere a little less crowded and noisy to hang out. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why the hell Sadie and Salma wanted to come to the party in the first place—none of us drink, and the one thing you can always count on at a Forrester party is that the liquor will be flowing freely. I fight back a sigh as my eyes scan the crowd for any of the guys’ faces. I agreed to come to the party with the girls because it’s been way too long since we’ve had the chance to hang out—I’ve been elbows deep in trying to handle the shit show Hollis and Pearl left for me. Add five boyfriends to the mix, and I’m definitely not being nominated for any ‘best friend of the year’ awards any time soon.

  We end up in a quiet corner of the ridiculous “man cave” in the basement. There’s a loud group of junior boys playing some video games or the other on the other side of the wall, but it’s mostly quiet enough to hear myself think. Salma and Sadie carry the conversation and I nod along politely as I stare at the golf clubs propped up in the corner. I can’t hel
p but wonder if Brock Forrester’s ever actually used them or if they’re for show, just as much as his fancy house and yacht are.

  “Hey, I’m gonna run to the bathroom real quick. Do you guys need anything?” Sadie asks after a few minutes, and I shake my head no, trying desperately to pull my thoughts out of the dark Brock Forrester centered hole they’ve landed in. Maybe Hollis didn’t view his Ponzi scheme bullshit as a problem because it didn’t affect the people of Patience directly, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t shitty. Dammit, didn’t I just tell myself I was going to stop thinking about Brock Forrester?

  Salma’s quiet for half a beat after Sadie leaves us alone, but she finally turns to me with a bittersweet sort of smile stretching across her face. “Is this weird?” I cock an eyebrow, and she waves her hand around in the air around us. “Being at a party, I mean,” she pauses before clapping a hand over her mouth as her eyes go wide. “Of course it’s weird. Fuck, I’m sorry, Juliet. That was completely uncalled for.”

  “Salma, calm down, it’s fine,” I say with a laugh. My heart’s beating wildly in my chest, though, because of course the first thing I think about is being stuck in a room with her deranged, psychopath brother. I force a smile on my face. She’s apologized more than enough, we’ve moved past it, sort of. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it.”

  She props her chin on the palm of her hand as she sighs. Her dress rides up her thighs, and she tugs at it for half a second before she turns her attention back to me. Her eyes are morose, though, and my stomach clenches. Why the hell is this so weird all of a sudden? Sure, I’ve been occupied with the guys and all my bullshit for the past little bit, but she’s still one of my best friends.

  “Jesus, I made it weird,” she laughs. She pulls her hand away from her chin and shakes her arms out with a loud hum before centering herself and turning serious eyes back on me. “So, five boyfriends now—truly, you’re doing the lord’s work. You’re an inspiration, Juliet. You’re not planning on adding anymore hotties to the harem are you? Because there’s a pretty good chance I’m going to start collecting boyfriends of my own, but girl code and all that.”

  And just like that, whatever awkward tension was hanging in the air around us snaps. My laugh is loud and genuine as she giggles, too. “No, I think I have plenty. You can start collecting at your leisure,” I tell her as I shake my head. This girl. No one, and I mean no one else is this casual about my dating preferences. Everyone else usually just changes the subject.

  “Where are those hotties of yours, anyway? Let’s go find them.”

  I laugh and let her pull me back through the crowd, relishing at least for the moment, the light-hearted feeling that’s replaced all the heavy shit that’s been weighing me down lately. As we enter the kitchen, I catch sight of Ace and Patrick in the corner of the kitchen, red cups clutched in their hands, and warmth blossoms in the center of my chest. I smile at them as we step toward the island, but my attention is pulled in Salma’s direction when she calls out to Sadie who’s passing us by in the living room.

  Sadie doesn’t hear her over the din of the music, so Salma offers me a quick smile before chasing after her. I circle around the island, collapsing tiredly into Ace’s arms when I make it to where they’re standing. “That bad?” Patrick asks with a laugh, and I groan into Ace’s chest. It really isn’t that bad, I’m just being dramatic. I shrug, and laughter rumbles through Ace’s chest at my less than enthusiastic reply. Patrick’s breath is hot on my ear when he leans in and whispers, “We could get out of here. My parents are out of town for the weekend.”

  The offer piques my interest immediately but I can’t bail just yet. Not when I’m supposed to be having girl time. I squeeze my arms around Ace’s waist for a long moment before pulling away with a long, regretful sigh. “I’d better not. I don’t get much time with the girls these days, not with you lot always around,” I tease. “It’d be pretty shitty of me to just bail on them when I’m already here.”

  “Your loss,” Patrick says with an easy laugh before leaning in to press a quick kiss to my lips. He pulls away before I can deepen it, and I groan in protest.

  Yeah, definitely my loss.

  Patrick steps back, and I squeeze Ace one last time before telling them, “When Sadie and Salma come back, tell them I’ve gone to the bathroom, will you?” I need to go now before all the mildly drunk party-goers turn into full-blown throwing up party-goers.

  A hand catches me around the wrist when I start to walk away, and my eyebrows furrow when I turn my head over my shoulder to stare at Patrick. “Do you want one of us to come with you?” There’s genuine concern in his eyes, and my heart hurts a little.

  My stomach lurches, but I force a smile on my face. The why behind the question hangs unspoken in the air between us. Kareem. It seems that I’m not the only one still haunted by that asshole. I shake my head, though, as I pull my wrist from his grip gently. “No, I’ll be good. Just tell the girls where I’ve gone.” That particular monster isn’t hiding in the dark anymore, Salma and her parents made absolutely sure of that.

  Patrick nods, and I rush away while I still have the nerve to. My stomach jumps and twists as I take the stairs two at a time, and I find myself wishing that Patrick wasn’t so goddamn considerate. Because before he said anything, it was just a quick trip to the bathroom, but now it feels like an epic, dangerous adventure. I try to calm myself back down again by counting my breaths as I escape into the second-floor bathroom, turning the lock behind me even before I’ve flicked the lights on.

  I do my business as quickly as I can, wanting to get back to the safety of my friends as soon as I can. There aren’t any monsters waiting on the other side of the bathroom door. Patrick didn’t mean anything by the question. Everything’s going to be fine, stop freaking out, Juliet. It’s a serious relief when I step out into the hall to find a couple girls waiting in line for the bathroom. I’m feeling slightly better as I start for the stairs until a door swings open and a wild-eyed Brock Forrester greets me.

  “Juliet,” he hisses, looking as surprised to see me as I am to see him, so at least he wasn’t stalking me out or anything. Still, I take a step back as my heart leaps into my throat. He steps into the hallway, stalking closer as I back away until my back hits the wall behind me.

  This is it. I’m positive I’m going to have a full blown panic attack as Brock Forrester glares at me like I’ve caused every bit of woe in his life. My palms are sweaty where they press against the wall, and as hard as I’m trying, I can’t seem to catch my breath and hold on to it. Nausea slams into my stomach, and I’m caught between the urge to sob and vomit because this feels too goddamn similar to the last time I let myself get isolated from my friends at a party.

  “What the hell is going on here?”

  Forrester takes a step back and then another when Sadie and Salma crest the top of the stairs. “What the fuck did you do?” Sadie asks, spinning to face Forrester with a glare and an accusing finger. “She’s underage, you disgusting fuck!”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” he exclaims as he throws his hands up and takes yet another step back. If he took just one more, he’d be back in his office. I wish he’d take that last step and slam the door, so I didn’t have to face the accusing way the girls are staring at him. “I didn’t lay a finger on her! I was just trying to talk to her.”

  “You’re a grown man hanging around a high school party,” Sadie hisses as Salma runs her hands down my arms and whispers comforting platitudes to me. My heart is careening around my chest, but my breaths start to come a little easier, and the pressure sitting on my chest lessens with each passing second. “That’s fucking pathetic—if you want to talk to Juliet, you can talk to my dad first. He’s her lawyer, you know?”

  “Hey, no,” I finally manage after a few more seconds of getting my breath under control. Three pairs of eyes flash in my direction, two with concern, one with barely contained anger, and my body spasms uncontrollably in response. I push my hair out of m
y eyes with shaking hands before offering the tightest smile I can muster to the girls. “He didn’t do anything. Not to me, at least.”

  “You need to learn to shut your mouth,” Brock snaps.

  I take a deep breath and push off of the wall. “You’re not so scary, Brock Forrester. It’s all going to come out, and when it does, you’re finally going to face the consequences of what you did. All the people you hurt.” His eyes flash, and for a moment I’m positive I see real panic there. He composes himself quickly, though, so I continue, “It’s time you people learn to take some responsibility for yourselves and your actions.”

  “Hollis Lexington was no fucking saint,” he spits out. Of course he knows that’s where my information has come from, there’s no use denying it. “You let all of this out, little girl, and your grandfather’s secrets are going to start spilling out, too.”

  I’m not sure if he means the folders or the affair my grandfather had with Grant Sr., but either way I don’t disagree. “Yeah, maybe they should. Maybe it all should.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The next weeks pass by mostly in a blur. To the average person in Patience, nothing has changed, but for me and the guys, we know everything has changed. I spent an hour every morning during the school week meeting with Dr. Peterson in his office, helping him to understand the contents of the folders that I end up handing over.

  I don’t give him everything, of course. In the end, I do what I know Hollis would have ultimately wanted. I protect the people that deserve it most. People like Mina Winchester, who felt like they had no other choice. Or like Francis Van Doren, who did the wrong thing for all the right reasons, protecting both himself and his brother.

  Some people deserve to be saved.

  There’s something dark about trying to decide other people’s fates. Ultimately, I end up asking the guys, along with Sadie and Salma, for a lot of help in keeping me as impartial as humanly possible. I don’t handle the town’s secrets lightly. And yes, in theory I could have given everyone a pass, maintaining the status quo for years to come, but I don’t know that I could have lived with myself.