Page 62 of Tainted Love
I search the room and find Bea standing at a high-top table with a man I assume is her grandfather. She’s talking animatedly, and he’s smiling while he listens intently towhatever she’s saying. They’re close, that much is obvious. His eyes don’t wander the room as she’s captured his full attention. I don’t blame him. Ever since I walked through the Kirkland’s door, she’s had mine as well.
I shake my head, trying to forget about the apparition as I cross the room towards them. It wasn’t her. It can’t be.
“Mr Kirkland,” I say, offering my hand to Bea’s granddad. “Elias Vasilios. Nice to meet you. Thanks for allowing me to come along tonight.”
“Ah,” Jonathon Kirkland grins, giving me a firm handshake. “The famous rockstar. Your mother tells me your band had some success on the road this summer.”
“Yes, sir.” I feel like my tie is strangling me, but I resist the urge to reach up and adjust it. Internally, I’m sweating bullets, praying I don’t fuck it up and say something stupid in front of Bea’s granddad. I know how much he means to her.
Christ, if Jas could see me now, she’d be turning over in her shallow grave. But it’s too late for her, she’s dead. Bea is flesh and bones, and she’s managed to take my black heart that died that night with Jas and breathe life back into it. Despite fighting and trying to control the narrative, I’ve fucking fallen hard for my stepsister. Now I just need to convince her I’m worth turning her life upside down for too.
“Well, we need to make sure and introduce you to the right people then, don’t we?”
“That would be amazing, sir.”
“Enough of this ‘sir’ business,” he chuckles, waving his hand. “We’re family. Jonathon is fine.”
An older couple approach the table and I feel Bea shrink into herself.
“Michael,” Jonathon greets the man warmly, before kissing the woman on the cheek. “Genevieve, how are you? You’re looking captivating tonight.”
“Oh, Jonathon, you old flirt,” she twitters. The twofall into a friendly conversation while her husband turns his attention to us.
Michael’s eyes narrow on Bea. “Beatrice. I trust you are doing well?”
“Yes, Mr Cromwell.” I hate the way her voice is small and weak. She’s terrified of this man.
He turns his attention to me. “And you must be Elena’s son.”
“Elias Vasilios,” I say with a curt nod, gritting out a “Nice to meet you” that I don’t mean one bit.
The old man gives me nothing more and turns back to Bea. Instinctively, I step in front of her. His eyes snap up to mine and a calculating look crosses his face. “I thought you might have come with Hunter,” he addresses Bea while never taking his gaze off me. “It’s why I sent him with the tickets today.”
I keep my face impassive as I say, “Bea broke up with your grandson, Mr Cromwell.”
Jonathon and Genevieve’s conversation pauses abruptly as they both look over at us, the latter frowning. “Oh, sweetheart. I’m sure it was only a misunderstanding. Hunter’s a good boy, and you two are so well matched. I’m sure if you just talk to him, you’ll be able to work things out.”
I open my mouth to say their slimy little grandson won’t be getting anywhere near her, but Bea interrupts. “Mrs Cromwell, Hunter will always be a friend, but our relationship has run its course. I am going to focus on my studies for now, which I hope you will appreciate.”
I hate this version of Bea. It’s so fake, and I hate these people bring it out.
“This isn’t a conversation that needs to be had tonight, nor in public,” Jonathon says, clapping his business partner on the shoulder. “We’re here to support a good cause. Let’s not get caught up in personal matters. In fact, I think I justspotted Jerry and Chantel Mercer over there. Why don’t we go and see how their new grandson is going, hmm?”
Bea shoots her granddad a grateful smile, and he gives her a subtle wink as he leads Michael and Genevieve away. As soon as they’re out of earshot, she spins around to face me. “Who dropped off the tickets, Elias?”
I shrug. “What does it matter?”
She narrows her eyes. “Why did you lie? I have enough people dictating my life. I don’t need you doing it too.”
“Do you even hear yourself? Why do you keep letting people dictate your life, Bea? You’re so fucking talented, but you’re going to throw it all away to become something you have no passion for. Why?”
“Maybe I just want some security.”
I scoff, but her words have me wondering if that security will extend to marrying Hunter Cromwell. “I’d rather live on the streets busking for money than compromise my happiness.”
“Easy to say when you’re living in someone else’s mansion.”
“At least I’m chasing my dreams. Maybe if you were honest about what you wanted, no one would be able to control you.”
