Cold Hearted Bachelor by Logan Chance
Twenty-Eight
Vaughn
It feelsgood to have Paisley back at my side. Those few weeks without her were more miserable than I’ve ever been. I never knew you could need someone as badly as I need Paisley.
When I heard of the affair with her and Chuck, I never believed it. Not at all.
I’m glad I went out to her house that day to confront her. I knew she wouldn’t want to spend Sunday dinner with me, and I knew she’d flee to her house.
I was right.
And it paid off, because having her and I alone together, we were able to come up with a plan.
Now it’s been a few days and this plan is harder to execute than I originally thought.
I was certain Rhonda and Jackie would show their love off around town and we could get some video footage of it. These two are good.
But we’re better.
After a few more days, it’s my mother who was able to finally get the winning shot.
We watch the video over and over in the living room of The Watts’ home.
“This right here, with the voice recording of Paisley and Jackie will be enough to take them down,” Spencer says.
“I think it’s enough to cause suspicion, and that’s plenty,” Paisley adds.
“Are you going to hand the evidence over to Chuck?” Brian asks his daughter.
She shakes her head, her blonde hair wisping about as she does. “No, we have a better idea.” She smiles up at me, and I can’t help but beam back at her.
I love the way her mind works.
“Ready?” I ask her.
She nods. “Who wants to hold the camera?” she asks her family. She hands her phone off to Spencer after he stands from the couch, his arm outstretched.
Once everything is set up, Paisley and I are smiling for the camera, telling the world everything that’s been happening.
Ok, maybe not the world, but Paisley’s followers.
The good thing about her last few videos gaining popularity is that the majority of her followers are people in this industry. People who know the Vanderweirs. More importantly, people who do business with the Vanderweirs.
We show the video of Jackie and Rhonda in a loving embrace finished off by a kiss, coming out of a hotel room, that my own mother was able to score. Next, Paisley plays the recording of Jackie explaining how she was indeed blackmailing Paisley.
“I never had an affair with Chuck. In fact, I’ve never seen any evidence that Chuck has ever been unfaithful to his wife. He’s always been a kind man, and a wonderful businessman.”
We sign off, and wait, hoping this video blows up enough to end this whole thing.
“How long do you think it’ll take?” my mother asks.
“Hopefully it’ll be over in a few days,” Paisley answers.
Brian rises from the couch. “Let me just say one thing.” All our attention is on him. “I’ve always thought of you like a son, Vaughn. And, I’m so happy that you and Paisley are together.” He focuses on Paisley. “Your mother always thought you two would end up together.” Then, he turns his attention back to me. “Whatever happens, I don’t want this to affect you two. I don’t want this to come between this family. We’re stronger than that. Vaughn, I trust you to look after my daughter.”
My chest swells hearing these words. “Thank you, sir.”
“Stop with the sir business.”
We all laugh, and I hold Paisley close.
A few hours later, as we’re all sitting around the Watts’ living room, after Mrs. Watts cooked one of her famous lasagnes, Paisley’s phone dings.
She pulls it out of her pocket and sits up straight on the couch.
“What is it?”
“This has definitely worked. I think.” She hands the phone over to me.
“Twenty thousand views. Is that a joke?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “Look at the comments. There’re people coming forward with all kinds of stuff about Jackie and Rhonda.”
I smile. “This is unbelievable.” I give Paisley a quick peck on the lips and then hand her back the phone so she can read all the comments.
“This has to be the end of this,” Spencer says.
“And the beginning to something amazing.” I hold Paisley a little tighter.
Sneak Peek of Taken By My Best Friend
“Shh, you’ll get us caught.”
“No one’s going to find us. Don’t be such a baby, Rhi.”
“I’m not a baby,” my voice raises a little with denial.
I hate when Xavier calls me a baby. I’m eight years old and can do a ton of things for myself. Like, daddy lets me ride my bike around the neighborhood all alone. Well, really until the end of the street, but still. Plus, grownups say I have a mature soul; whatever that means. It doesn't sound babyish, though.
“No talking until we get outside,” he whispers. He’s so bossy. But, he is two years older than me, so I guess, technically, he is in charge. Plus, he's my best friend, so I overlook these things.
We duck out the French door in the kitchen, into the dark, trying our best not to make a sound.
This probably isn't a good idea. Rescue the princess is a game we play often but never at night.
The moon plays peekaboo in the cloud-covered sky, and we slip like mist across the damp grass, hopefully without being seen by the guards.
If my father found us sneaking out, we’d probably be murdered. You think I’m exaggerating, but I’m not. I've heard the staff whispering when they think I'm not listening. Once, I asked my mother if he’s a bad man, and she told me never to say it again. She said he protects us from the other bad people of the world. So, I guess he's good to us.
Well, good to me, anyways. He doesn't care much for Xavier. Mom says he only tolerates him because he’s Hannah’s son. She’s our maid, tall with beautiful hair the color of chocolate, and one of the nicest women I’ve ever met. And if I'm being honest, sometimes, when she brushes my long red hair, I pretend she’s my mother.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my mom, but she’s always busy entertaining my dad’s boring friends when she's not working at his office.
“This way,” Xavier directs, leading me down the uneven cobblestone path that cuts through the backyard.
He grabs my hand when I hesitate, and like always, I feel as if nothing can harm me out here with him.
“We’re almost there,” he reassures, taking us away from the safety of the big brick house, toward the towering woods.
“Maybe we shouldn't,” I hedge.
Unsure, I peek over my shoulder for a moment. Like a beacon calling me home, a light flickers through an upstairs window.
“No turning back.” Xavier’s blue eyes glow with anticipation of all the things I'm afraid of as he tugs me along. He's the opposite of me: fearless.
A blanket of twigs snap beneath our sneakers as Xavier tightens his grip on my sweaty hand. Crickets chirp and things I don't want to think about rustle through the darkness as we move further than I've ever been through the knotty trunks.
A small cabin, in a clearing, comes into view, and he rushes up the rickety stairs, to the front door, dropping my hand somewhere along the way.
Spooky shadows lurk inside the windows, and I hang back a bit, my sneakers cemented to the earth. “What’s in there?”
“Don’t be a fraidy cat.”
“I’m not afraid.” I raise my chin and step on the first wooden plank leading up to a small porch.
He opens the door. “Ready?”
I’m not, but I’ll never let him know it, so I continue on and follow him into the unknown.
He flicks his flashlight on and scans the room. The dark walls are bare, and a lone chair sits like a throne in the middle of the room with steel handcuffs attached to both arms.
“What is this place?”
“I don’t know,” he answers, looking over at me. “I followed your dad and his friends the other day down here.”
“Xavier, we shouldn't be here. I don’t think good things happen in this place. I don't like it here.”
He grabs my arm, his blue eyes holding mine. “One day, I’ll take you away from your father and all the bad things.”
Xavier has never liked daddy either. His cold hard stare. The gruff in his voice when he yells at him for everything.
My father calls him a ...nuisance.
“What if I don't want to leave?”
“What could you possibly like about living with your father?”
I don't get to answer because there’s a snap of a tree branch outside.
“Hide,” he says, flicking off his flashlight. We crouch by the far wall of the small cabin, behind a table of tools I don’t fully understand.
The front door flies open. “Who’s in here?” The sound of my father’s voice startles us both. Xavier, eyes loaded with fear, slaps a hand over my mouth before I can answer.
Tucking my knees to my chest, I try to make myself disappear. I squeeze my eyes shut, anything to make me go away. My father will probably spank me for being out here, maybe ground me forever from playing outside, but it’s nothing compared to what he’ll do to Xavier.
He might even go so far as to fire his mother.
When my father shines his light around the room, we shrink back into the small alcove of the side. Footsteps fall faster to our hiding spot, and Xavier is yanked up by his hoodie.
“You're hiding like a rat,” my father bites out. “Why are you in here?”
Xavier’s eyes meet mine, and he gives a little shake of his head, warning me to stay silent. “Answer me,” he yells so loud it feels like the walls vibrate.
“I was just exploring,” Xavier finally responds.
“Exploring?” My father drags him to the chair and drops him down in it. “Come out of there, Rhiannon,” he orders.
Reluctantly, I stand from my hiding spot. He flips on the light, and I squint against the fluorescent glare. He's scary when he's angry. Pinched face, flaring nostrils. And right now, he's madder than I've ever seen him. Hannah says to count when I'm afraid or upset and when I'm finished, it won't seem so bad. So, I count the steps over to him in my head to calm myself.
One.
Two.
Three.
I don't want to be a baby, but the tears start falling.
Four.
Five.
He grips my arm and yanks me in front of Xavier. “What are you doing here, Rhiannon?”
Through my tears, I answer. “I'm only eight, you can't expect me to make good choices.”
He pulls his leather belt free from the loops… and then whips me.
Over and over.
Until the numbers in my head jumble.
Until I see little stars behind my squeezed eyelids.
Until I cry out I won't do it again.
“Stop,” Xavier yells. “It's not her fault. Punish me.”
“This is your punishment, Xavier,” my father shouts.
Finally, after a few more minutes, the hits cease, but the sting and burn continues so fierce I rub my bottom. I'm sure Xavier really thinks I'm a baby now; I can't stop the shudders waffling my frame or the hiccuping sobs.
My father leans down, an inch from Xavier’s stricken face, bracing his hands on the arms of the chair. “Remember this lesson.”
Xavier doesn't look at me on the entire walk back. My father strides ahead of us across the lawn and when he's out of ear shot, Xavier takes my hand.
“One day, Rhiannon, I will take you away from him.”
I don’t say a word. The look in his eyes tells me he isn’t kidding.
CLICKHERE to continue the epic love story between Xavier and Rhiannon.
