That wasn’t going to happen again. The worst part of all of this is what Phillipe had done to Dirk, breaking him, taking the hero inside of him and twisting it until he was someone who could beat me at my own game.
He’d been a real hero, but instead he’d become manipulative, cunning, devious enough to make me fall helplessly in love with him. I couldn’t hurt him. I couldn’t let anyone else hurt him, whether he hated me, loved me, or something in between.
I’d been numb from shock and the drug my cousin Philippe had shot me up with, but Jezebel’s words had soaked into me about being ruled by fear, by my grandfather, and I had to admit that she was right.
I’d been so ashamed to be afraid of heights, but I hadn’t noticed the real terror came from someone a normal person should love. What kind of idiot agrees with a terrorist? Philippe had shot a rocket at me! Who does that? And that was finebecause I was just some doll to be traded or exploded at will, but now that I could personally lift cars I was valuable for something more? I could just see it, my grandfather arranging a much more lucrative deal to sell me off to somebody even more messed up than Clint. At least I’d liked his mother, and he’d had genuine feelings. That was another thing. Feelings. Feelings were healthy and normal, and I wanted to feel everything. Yes. I would follow my feelings for the rest of my life. I would never betray my body or soul again.
A wave of terror went over me, and I shivered and rubbed my arms. I had to protect the people I cared about, and I cared about so many people that would be my weaknesses, but only if they weren’t my strength.
Nix was going to war with Haversham? Hardly. He’d get hurt. I was Haversham’s heir, and it was time that I did something with that legacy other than fight until everyone I cared about was killed or completely broken. No. I was finished playing other people’s games.
Toni. I couldn’t let anyone threaten her anymore. I needed a new game, and I had to play hard, with my rules.
With Dirk, I wasn’t sure what to do. He was my husband, but I knew that the only reason he’d taken the role was to get closer to me, to bring down my family. I couldn’t blame him, no I blamed myself for being such an idiotic pawn in my grandfather’s game, where he pit me against Philippe to accomplish his own goals, destroying us both in the process, if there had ever been anything in Philippe worth saving. Was there anything in me to save?
I shook my head and got dressed in my kitten sweater and dowdy skirt. I had scheming to do. Saving myself wasn’t the issue, no, it was doing what I could to undo the damage my family had already done and keep them from doing any more.
Dirk would be safe as long as my grandfather thought that I was bringing him in line. That was a good place to start, looking into that list of assets Philippe had shown me that I could still remember so perfectly thanks to some mysterious super serum. That was the second piece I needed to understand- what it did, who knew about it, and what they wanted.
I pulled my sweater close at the thought of more men like my cousin, who hid their psychosis behind a mask of wealth and civility. Was Horse part of that world? Were there different sectors of super serum users? Could I ally with the opposition to Phillipe to help bring him down?
I bit my bottom lip. I couldn’t trust anyone, not when I was Haversham’s granddaughter, the carefully cultivated weapon in his arsenal, as pretty as I was lethal, at least that had been his plan, but I’d been too soft until Philippe shot a rocket at us.
I would have to keep Dirk close until I had the plan in place that would defeat my cousin, so that Dirk would be safe. I couldn’t let him annul our marriage until after Christmas, by which time I would defeat my cousin one way or another. I would kill him if there were no other recourse. Prison would probably be as enjoyable as juvie. I deserved it for helping Haversham grow in power while it destroyed innocent lives like Dirk’s sister’s.
I loved him.
I wanted to wake up with him every morning, and play music with him every night, but how could I take that from him when he was only with me to get revenge for his sister? He hated me, and as long as he wore hot pink, he wouldn’t forget what kissing me had done.
How could one kiss lead to so much devastation? I would make it right, or as right as I could make something when his sister wouldn’t ever come back. I’d let him get his annulment once Philippe was taken care of. I’d give him whatever he wantedin stocks and a settlement, but I couldn’t help enjoying being with him as long as it lasted. I was still too much of a villain to not relish every moment, even if, for him, it was all a lie.
My heart ached thinking about how much he’d suffered because of my family, because he’d been stupid enough to help a stranger on the top of a building. What if I became like Philippe, obsessive and possessive, refusing to let him choose whether or not he wanted to be with me? No, I couldn’t. I had to protect him from myself as much as from my family. I would protect them all, because I was the only one who could.
After this was all over, I’d find another videographer to record my videos in the desert, because I loved that for myself, and I’d have to love as many other things as possible or I’d be unable to stay away from him. It was more important to keep him safe than to have him, but only after he was safe, after he asked for the divorce or annulment.
I came out of my bedroom and found the girls on the patio outside, sitting around the table, probably planning girl’s night or Haversham’s ruin. Maybe they could do a combo. No. This was my problem that I needed to fix, but I’d need their help. Could I ask for help? Could I trust them?
I looked around at each face, Jezebel and her gorgeousness that covered a vicious sense of justice. Trixie’s strength was in her character, in her ability to face everything honestly, true to herself, however flawed. Felicia I didn’t know as well, but she’d played her part perfectly at the concert, better than perfect, taking what I’d asked for and making it art. Minx was so sweet, particularly for a cold-blooded killer. Yes, I could trust them as well as I could trust myself. Not that that was saying much. I’d prove to myself that I could be trusted, like I’d prove it to the rest of the world, starting with these women.
“Good morning, ladies. I need some help.” It was hard to admit it, but the words had come out smooth, cold, decisive.
They all stared at me. “What kind of help?” Jezebel asked. “Are we talking about murder or mayhem?”
“I don’t know. I don’t have a plan yet, just a goal.”
Jezebel’s eyes narrowed as she studied me. I sat down and poured myself a glass of the disgusting glob-filled green mixture. She abruptly smiled and leaned back, raising her glass. “You’ve decided which horse to ride.”
“I have.”
“I’m in. Be careful when asking Felicia. She has a weakness for men.”
“Aiee, Jezebel, do I talk about your weakness for glitter-bras? Why do you hurt my feelings? I might cry. I agree, though. You want focus, Minx is very good.”
Minx gave her friend a harried look. “I have to get home for Thanksgiving. I promised my mom.”
Jezebel said, “Don’t tell me that you don’t want to go shopping in Boston first. There’s amazing shopping in Boston, and Princess Pinkie will give you a blank check to do it with, won’t you, Pinkie?”
I tilted my head. “I can’t promise a blank check, since my assets might be permanently tied up after this adventure, but I can arrange something. Either way, it’ll be after Thanksgiving. I need to plan. A good plan takes time to really develop.”
