Page 3 of Dubious (Darkly Ever After)
I’m about to say more and lay it on the line for this woman, but I freeze in shock as River’s hand lands on my knee. When did he move his chair?I swallow audibly, trying to ignore his touch, unsure if it’s wanted. A part of me wants to jump up and blast him for being so bold, but that night flashes in my mind, and shame floods me at the longing I harbor for the heat of his hand on my skin.
I stare Celeste down. “I’m surprised you’ve moved on so quickly.”
Celeste gasps, her hand flying to her chest as if I’ve mortally wounded her with an invisible sword. “I’m in a lot of pain, Ella. Charles was the love of my life. I don’t know if I can go on without him.”
I roll my eyes at her dramatic response. Her indignation is as fake as the non-existent tears she shed at my father’s burial. “Maybe you should have jumped into his grave with him. It would’ve been a poetic ending to your love story.”
River chuckles beside me, throwing me off. Ignoring him, I return my attention to Celeste. “I’m not planning to go anywhere. This is my house. This is where my father raised me. Right now, my only plan is to grieve.”
River laughs again and squeezes my thigh before removing his uninvited touch from my person. “I like the idea of you being around, Ella. It gives me more time to get to know my little sister.”
My body reacts when River says, “little sister.” Two words that should be innocent yet sound blasphemous on his lips.
Celeste clears her throat. “That’s understandable, dear.
Sure it is, you black widow.
I busy myself with my food and copious amounts of liquor for the rest of dinner, hoping I can leave the meal unscathed if I don’t make eye contact with anyone.
“Maybe we can go for a drive tomorrow,” Alaric suggests, his blue eyes searching mine.
I can’t bear to look at him, so I focus on his hands. Bad idea because my mind floods with images of those calloused fingers gliding over my skin. As illogical as it is, I can’t help thinking that night was forged in sin, and my father’s death was the punishment I received.
“Alaric, don’t forget, we have a meeting with the lawyers tomorrow,” Celeste interjects.
“Lawyers?” I ask.
Stepmother dearest turns her beady eyes on me with contention.“Yes, lawyers, dear,” she says smoothly, placing one hand on top of the other. “Now that everything’s settled, we need to find out what will happen with the estate. We need to ensure that you’re all taken care of. It’s what Charles would have wanted after all.”
I wave a hand around the table. “As far as I can tell, we’re all adults here, so I don’t understand what needs to be taken care of.”
Celeste narrows her eyes on me and smiles. “You never know, dear. Better to be safe than sorry.”
I turn to Alaric. I know what I’m about to suggest is a bad idea, but the need to get under Celeste’s skin overrides all logic. “Perhaps we can do something after your appointment.”
“Absolutely, Princess,” Alaric replies.
“We’ll make it a family affair,” River interjects.
My face immediately grows hot as I gaze at him, regretting my suggestion when he wags his eyebrows. River is the joker of the three. Sometimes, I wonder if he has any moral compass or shame, but I like him because he doesn’t care what people think. River lives his life the way he wants. Does what feels good. Says what he believes is right and walks his own path without worrying about where it might lead.
“I’m sure Asher would like to join too,” River whispers so only I can hear. “If I remember correctly, you enjoyed his idea of fun the last time all three of us hung out together.”
Asher is the most unnerving of the three men. He doesn’t talk much; his words cut into short answers. When he peers at me, I can’t help but think he’s pondering innovative ways to hurt me—ways I want to fall into, like Alice tumbling down the rabbit hole. Out of the three, Asher has the key that unlocks all my inhibitions. It was he who lulled me toward them. It was he who coaxed me to believe that every act of debauchery was acceptable. Asher is the serpent who convinced Eve to take a bite of the apple.
I lock eyes with him. The back of my neck prickles, and I have an urge to run—not out of fear but the necessity of having him chase me until I’m caught. Asher smiles and winks as if he senses my thoughts, and I quickly avert my eyes.
“Don’t worry, Sis,” Alaric chimes in. “I’m sure we can keep you busy.”
Alaric is the subdued one but also the most charming. I found myself tangled in his web before the other two were added to the mix. Alaric makes me comfortable and frightened at the same time. He emits a sense of safety while living on the edge of fear. Alaric is the calm before the raging storm of River and Asher.
The air is thick. My lungs are balloons begging for their heated breath to fill me. My skin crawls, not from discomfort, but from becoming entrapped in a situation that could turn at any moment.
Celeste jumps at the clatter of my fork hitting the china plate. All eyes turn to me.
“I’m sorry,” I stammer. “I’m not feeling too good. Please excuse me. I need to rest for a bit.”
Without waiting for a response, I push back my chair and run for the sanctuary of my room. I rush up the stairs and down the long corridor until I reach my haven. My bed shifts as I fall back on it, hoping to recall my father. Almost a month has passed since he died, and I’m scared that if I don’t keep my memories of him in the forefront, I’ll lose him all over again. But it’s not images of my father flooding my mind. It’s visions of that night and the three men seated at the oak dining table downstairs.