Shattered Dynasty by Ava Harrison
22
Payton
I’m not goingto class today.
I should go, but no matter how much I try, I can’t get past the mystery and drama surrounding Ronald Aldridge. I need to know how much my sister knew.
Did she know about what he did to his daughter?
Why he was in jail?
Did she even talk to him about anything of substance?
The only thing she told me came the day before the funeral and will reading. She admitted, point blank, with no remorse, that Ronald Aldridge had a family. It sounded like she’d known about them for a long time. That I was the only one left in the dark.
Instead of taking the train to where I normally get off to go to school, I take it one extra exit to where my sister’s house is located.
This is the house she moved into after Ronnie stopped paying her bills a few months before he died.
I haven’t been here since he died, come to think of it. I haven’t really been here very much since I found out the new scumbag showed up. He was in prison for his hand in some scheme, and God knows what that was really all about because Erin won’t talk. Finding out she had known him through her ex―Tony―is enough for me to never want to get to know him, though.
Seems like a pattern . . .
I walk up the driveway to the door and knock. It swings open.
My sister looks like a mess.
Her normally beautiful blown-out hair appears greasy.
Her face has sunken in.
Is she eating?
Is she sick?
I hate myself for the instant pang of worry that festers inside me, but she’s my sister. No matter how she treats me, I can’t help but worry.
“What brings you here?” She narrows her eyes at me.
“Can’t I just want to stop by to visit my sister?”
“You haven’t given a shit about me since you found out all the money is going to be yours.” She huffs as she lifts her hand up to rub her nose.
Is she using again?
My sister has been clean for years, but she’s been spiraling ever since Ronnie cut her off, so it does make sense.
“Can I come in?”
She rolls her eyes but steps aside, allowing me to pass.
There are empty bottles of wine, beer, and vodka everywhere. If I didn’t know better, I would mistake this place for ground zero of a rave. After the lights come back on, and the people left with the mess realize how utterly fucked they are.
Erin might not be doing drugs, but she certainly is drinking. The scent of alcohol invades my nostrils. I can’t even pinpoint a single type. It just smells like the air is eighty proof.
Brad’s lying on the couch in the living room. No shirt on. Beer in his hand.
Charming.
This house looks like a squatters’ paradise. Not the beautiful, seven-figure home Ronnie once purchased.
“Why are you here?” Erin glares at me, temper flaring.
“I want to talk about Ronald.”
“What about him? Isn’t it bad enough that he left me nothing?” Her voice sounds shrill, reminding me of nails on a chalkboard.
He gave you a home for years. Money for years. Food and safety, too.
It’s more than most people ever have.
She’s forgotten so much of our past, so much of what it felt like not to have a roof over our heads, that I want to point it out. I also want to live, and in the interest of self-preservation, I pocket the comment.
“I didn’t ask him for this.”
“You did something to get it.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
She looks me up and down. “Really? Because you were just his type.”
“Erin!” I shout because the idea is not only gross but absolutely ridiculous. And offensive.
“What? It’s true.” She nudges a beer bottle, watching it roll and hit the wall. “I was around your age when I started dating him. Maybe a few years older. Not so hard to believe, huh? Maybe you seduced him.”
“I never touched him, and he never touched me.”
“I don’t believe you.” Something sinister flashes across her face, and then she’s prowling toward me in slow, steady steps. “If you never touched him and you didn’t ask Ronnie for the money, why not leave it to me?”
I force myself not to back up when she closes in on me, and all I smell is the vomit-inducing scent of booze and sex on her. “I don’t know why he gave me the money, Erin.”
She sags, looking a foot smaller. “What am I going to do?”
It feels like I’m being sucker punched as I watch her.
Erin can be difficult, but she’s had it rough. With her shoulders slumped, she appears younger. It reminds me of when she first took me in. The girl who lost her parents and put her own dreams aside to take care of me. Erin hasn’t always been the woman she is now.
It’s why I still put up with this new version of her.
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.” The moment I say the words, she visibly stiffens. “Do you think I’d leave you with nothing?”
She took care of me for years, best she could.
Does she think so little of me?
Instead of reassuring her, she rears up at my promise. “I don’t need you to take care of me.”
“I know you don’t. Consider it a thank you for everything you did for me.”
And I mean it.
Although she’s made my life difficult the past few years, it doesn’t negate that she took me in. That she once tried her best to be there. That, in truth, she saved me.
“You’ll give me the money?” She leans closer. “When you finally get it, give it to me like it was never yours, to begin with.”
“Yes.”
She worries her lip at my answer, then nods. “It’s the least you can do for me raising you.”
I nod. I’ll figure out another way to escape. To achieve my dreams. To be free. The money is worth this fight with Erin. And I meant it when I said it’s the least I could do for Erin raising me.
“But I’m not here to talk about the money,” I add.
“Fine.” She motions to the kitchen chair. “Sit. Now that I know you aren’t forgetting about me, you can stay. Hang out.”
That’s the last thing I want to do, but instead of making this awkward, I do.
“Did you know about Ronald?”
“Know what?” She laughs as the question clicks. “About him having another family? Hell yeah . . .”
“No, not that. Did you know about Ivy?”
That Ronald sold her . . .
Erin looks everywhere but at me. First at her hands. The ones tapping her thighs. Then she glances down at her feet. Both shake, moving her legs in a frantic rhythm. I don’t know if she’s having withdrawals or just nervous.
Finally, her gaze lifts, but instead of looking at me, she looks over my shoulder. Something in the way she holds her body and the lack of eye contact makes my heart sink, and I don’t want to know, but I have to.
“Did you know what he was planning for his daughter?” I press.
She doesn’t answer, and her gaze never meets mine.
“How could you stay with him knowing he’d sold his own—”
She cuts me off, “Don’t judge me, Miss Perfect. You have no idea what it would have been like without him to save our asses.”
“I do. I remember.”
“If you remember, then shut the fuck up. If it weren’t for Ronnie, you would have been on the streets. Everything I did, I did for us,” she hisses. “That fancy college cost a lot more than money. So did the food you ate. You have no idea what I had to do to keep you fed. To keep you safe all this time.”
Her words sting. Because they’re true.
I know it in the bottom of my gut that, if it weren’t for Ronald, I’d probably be dead. Or worse . . .
A shiver runs down my spine for a reality I know would have been mine, had Erin not intervened.
My sister might not be the best person, but she did make sacrifices for me.
“I’m sorry, Erin. You’re right.” Despite my desire to rid myself of her toxic presence, I do know she kept me alive.
“It’s fine. You’ll make it up to me like you promised.”
I nod. “I will. Just need to get through these months.”
“Maybe if you try to butter up the son . . .” She licks her lips. “Maybe I should . . .”
“He would never go for that.”
“What are you saying? I’m not good enough for Trent Aldridge? Or are you already spreading for him now?”
“No. I don’t do”—I shake my head—“That’s not what I said.” Not even close. I hate that her thoughts are so binary—defend and attack. Sex and pride. “And I don’t want to fight with you. He hates us. There is nothing we can do to get the money faster.”
“Fine, whatever.”
We sit in silence, then Brad moves to stand and walks over to me.
My body instantly tenses.
He looks down at me with a look in his eyes. One I know too well from seeing them replicated on Erin’s past creeps.
“I’m sure you can think of a way to convince him not to hate you . . .” He dips his chin down.
His gaze lingers too long over my chest, and I feel dirty. Not the first time a man in my sister’s life has made me feel this way. But now I’m older, stronger, and use my voice.
I get up and move toward the door. Away from him. “I’m not going to do that.”
“Well, bills are due soon, so you might need to reconsider it,” Erin adds into the conversation.
With a sigh, I look at her and ask, “How much do you need to tide you over?”
Before Erin can give a number, Brad walks closer again. “Three grand, minimum.”
“I don’t have access to that kind of money.”
“Then find a way to get it, dammit. If there is nothing else, you can fuckin’ go,” Brad says. “The bills are due in four weeks. Tell your boy toy you need money for school. It’s yours, right?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer. “Then there ain’t no problem asking for it.”
“Fine.” I head out the door.
The trip was a waste of time.
My sister gave me no information I needed.
Not true.
She knew what Ronald tried to do to Ivy.
She knew what a monster he really was.
Trent is right.
It is blood money.
I’ll give my sister her share and keep a little for me to use to leave. Then I’ll get as far away from all of this as I can.
There is nothing salvageable here.
My mind isall over the place when I head back to the loft. It feels like everything inside me is twisted up. I can’t think straight. Sometimes seeing Erin will do that to me. Talking to her brings me back to the past. Especially today after what she said.
I don’t need her to remind me what my life could have been like had she not been there.
Those thoughts live in my brain whenever I’m alone at night and allow my thoughts to wander.
Normally, I would hit the gym at Ludlow. A good forty-five-minute run does wonders to clear the cobwebs of the past from my mind.
That’s what I’m missing.
The release of endorphins. Those bad boys will get my brain in the right place in no time.
As I’m about to enter the loft I notice that across the street there’s a truck. I halt my steps, my eyes narrowing to look at it.
It’s just sitting there. Across the street. But that’s not the part that has my back going straight, it’s the person in the driver seat.
He’s staring at me. Not moving. Just looking at me.
I can’t see who it is, he’s wearing a baseball hat and sunglasses. That’s the thing that bothers me, it’s not sunny out.
I’m still staring as the door behind me opens. I jump at the movement, turning my body to see Gail.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“It’s just the truck across the street.”
“What truck?” she asks, confusion evident in her voice.
“The one over there.” I turn to point at the truck, but it’s gone. “That’s so strange—I swear . . .” I shake my head. “Forget it, it was nothing.” Not wanting to make a bigger fool out of myself. Obviously, it was nothing and I’m being dramatic. No reason for Gail to know I’m being paranoid. That’s all I would need, Gail telling Trent. I would never hear the end of it.
I enter the loft, and then I head straight for my room and change into my workout clothes. Then I’m off in search of Trent.
He might have something he expects me to do. So, before I leave again to run, I need to let him know where I’m going.
After I come up empty-handed in the main level, I head to his gym.
That’s an option.
Would Trent mind if I used it?
Probably, but it’s not enough to stop me.
As I turn the corner, my feet stop, and my mouth drops open. My brain stutters for a moment at what I am seeing.
Better yet—who.
It’s him.
Electricity courses through my body.
I feel warm and tingly in an instant.
Trent is naked.
Lying in his sauna. The glass foggy from the heat, but not enough to block my view of him.
And I see everything.
Every inch of his perfectly formed body.
My eyes trail over his exposed skin . . .
Lower.
Lower.
Holy hell.
I want to fan myself. Or better yet, lie on top of him.
He is hard, thick, and long.
I wonder what he’s thinking. If he’s thinking about someone.
If he’s thinking about me.
My tongue feels heavy.
My cheeks are burning.
I’m on fire.
Move. Payton.
The last thing I want is for this man to catch me staring.
I will myself to take a step back.
Then another.
I retrace my path backward until I’m out of view.
Until I can retreat to the confines of my room.
As soon as I’m sure he can’t hear me, I take off and run up the stairs, dashing across the hall and slamming the door shut.
Once it closes behind me, I slide down it, resting my back on the heavy wood.
Head in my hands, I finally exhale.
Now that I’ve seen him, I don’t know how I’ll ever speak to him again.
The unbelievably sexy image has branded itself in my brain.
And something tells me no quantity of cold showers, or even holy water, will rid me of it.