Spider

Sebastian walks in the door and comes to an abrupt halt, a look of confusion on his face as he takes in the scene. His gaze sweeps the place, looking for Rose. He showed up here yesterday to check on me and convince me to pack my bags and come to LA with him now instead of later.

Father turns his gaze to him, his voice lower than when he spoke to me. “This is a private conversation, Sebastian.”

Sebastian takes one look at my face and stands his ground. “I understand, but I think I’ll stay, sir. Spider may need me.”

I exhale. Sebastian is the best mate I have. He’s always been right here with me since prep school days, picking up the pieces. I don’t deserve him either. I don’t deserve shit.

“He walked in on us.”

Sebastian’s face pales. “Shit.” Ignoring my father, he comes over and puts a hand on my shoulder. “You good?”

I nod my head.

Then I shake it. “No.” My stomach hurts, and the look on Rose’s face when she walked out wrecked me. I clench my fists together and rub my eyes. “I fucked up. I need to go find Rose.”

A long breath comes from Sebastian. “Spider . . . dude . . . think long and hard about that. She’s a kid, and you’re on your way out of town. Maybe . . . maybe this is how it’s supposed to be.”

My father chimes in. “Do you have any idea what this could do to Anne . . . to our relationship?”

I look at him and there’s worry mingled with anger etched on his face.

“I’m just bad luck for you, aren’t I?” I say.

Cate, my eyes say. Mum.

He exhales and holds his hands up. “It’s not like that, Spider. This is just a fresh start for me. For us—if you want it to be.”

I shrug and look away from him. I don’t want to think about fresh starts.

He tugs on his tie, loosening it. “I wasn’t around when you were young, but this thing with Anne . . . I love her . . .” He trails off.

What about me?

Ignoring him, I stalk past him and outside to the balcony where I pull a cigarette from my pocket and light it up, sucking in the nicotine.

I hear Father and Sebastian talking quietly inside, but I tune them out.

I’ve smoked five cigarettes when I feel my father join me even though I don’t look at him. He’s made his own drink and is sipping on a Scotch, a visible tremor in his hand. He lets out a deep exhale. “I can tell you think highly of Rose, and maybe this is more than just one of your usual—”

I send him a withering look. “Don’t. You don’t know anything about me,” I bite out.

He nods, that cool English exterior of his in full force. “Indeed. You’re right, I don’t know you, because we never spent much time together. I barely had time for you when you were a baby. Your sister died, your mum left, and I carried on like nothing had changed. I dumped you at a boarding school in a foreign country and went to work. It was terribly wrong of me, and my only excuse is . . . well, I didn’t know how to be what you needed. I’m sorry for it. I feel partly responsible for the situation you currently find yourself in—using drugs and thinking you’re in love with an underage girl.”

I clench the railing of the balcony. I can’t believe he just said all that. I spear him with a look, glad he said it. It makes it real. “I think that just about covers it.” I pause. “After Mum left, I saw you six times in four years. That’s fucked up.”

He nods. “I can do better. I want to.”

We stand there in the wind, watching the cars move below. I think about the past, about how unhappy my father has probably been since Cate and Mum.

I exhale a deep breath. “Believe it or not, I’m . . . glad for you.” I wave my hands at him. “Anne and the baby. You deserve a second chance.”

A strained, pensive look flits across his face as he sticks his hands in his pockets and stares out at the skyline. “Every day is a second chance, son. All you have to do is take it.”

I slide my eyes to his, gauging his reaction. “Maybe Rose is what I need.”

A firmness settles on his face. “There’s only one thing that’s certain in this situation, and it’s that you need to get out of her life.”

I know he’s right.

There’s a side of me that also feels disappointed in myself, in my inability to leave her alone. I rub my forehead.

“Can I bum a cig?” he asks.

He hasn’t smoked since I was in diapers, at least not that I’ve seen. I pass one to him and he lights it like a pro, cupping the flame against the wind.

“I don’t think I really know you at all,” I say, watching him.

He nods as his eyes study me. “Same.”

I’m suddenly overwhelmingly tired. “What do you want from me?”

He takes a long drag, his brows knitting together as if he’s thinking hard. “I have a proposition for you,” he says, leaning over the balcony and staring off into the horizon. “I’ve been talking to Sebastian about something, and I think I have a plan, one that will work out well for everyone involved.”

I pause. “Including Rose?”

He nods. “Especially Rose.”

I nod. He tells me his idea, and before he’s even finished, I know it’s the right thing to do.

Rose

“YOUR BEHAVIOR IS COMPLETELY UNACCEPTABLE,” Anne says from the counter in the kitchen as she pours herself a glass of iced tea. “I won’t let you throw yourself away on some thug.” Even though she’s clearly rattled, her words are spoken without drama. That’s just her.

Don’t respond, I tell myself. You’ll only make it worse. She’s a judgmental person; you can’t change her mind.

I sit at the breakfast table, my hands clenched under the table, holding myself together. We’ve been sitting here for half an hour and my head throbs. Apparently, Anne used an app on my phone to track where I went after I left her house and saw that I was at the penthouse. She and Robert came over to see why.

“You were in bed with him.” She inhales a sharp breath.

Shame colors my face and I stare down at the table. “We didn’t have sex.”

I flick my eyes over to check my phone to see if he’s texted me.

“Put your phone away, Rose.”

I turn it facedown. “Sorry.”

She sits down across from me, her face pale. “You will not see him again.” Her words are little bells that can’t be un-rung . . . clear, cold, and final.

“That’s going to be hard since you’re married to his dad. I will see him,” I say, gripping the edge of my seat.

She shakes her head. “I didn’t want to tell you this, but the housekeeper found drugs in his room from the night he was here.”

I’m surprised but not shocked. “I don’t care,” I say. He and I will figure it out.

Her lips part. “You don’t know what you’re saying. If you get caught up with him . . . well, you’ll get messed up too . . . like your mother.”

I am nothing like my mother.

I’m almost damn perfect considering where I came from.

“I’m not like her. I’m like Granny.”

“You can’t act like anyone from Tin Town, even your Granny,” she says sharply.

I can’t let her put Granny in her category of people from Tin Town.

I stand, the storm that’s been whipping in me sweeping to the surface. “It doesn’t matter where I’m from. All that matters is where I’m going.”