Page 67 of Van Cort
“Probably because I’m beginning to trust you. Let you see the real me. The Everett you see in the suit is only half of who I am.”
“I like the Everett you are here just as much. You’re easier to talk to,” I murmur.
“Am I? Good.” He leans forward and plants a kiss on my forehead. “And as much as I’d like to take advantage of you in this state, I think drinking on an empty stomach is a bad move for you.”
I smile in agreement as my eyelids flutter again, no matter how desperate I am for them to stay open and stay in this moment with him. And then I’m against his chest. Warmth. His arms around me. And we’re swaying.
“What?” I urge my eyes to focus, but they just blur my vision instead. “Are we moving? Are you carrying me?” I giggle.“Everett!”
“Yes. And you’ll forget just what a gentleman I’m being.”
“Hmmm.” I lean my head against his shoulder, wanting to stay conscious long enough to enjoy being carried in his arms.
“Oh, the things I could do to you.” The low rumble of his voice vibrates through me, and I giggle again, remembering the piano.
“Drink.” He passes me a glass, and I blink at it. “It’s just water.”
“Where am I?”
“In bed. Now, drink.” I reach for the glass and savour the cool, crisp water on my lips. The heavy puffed pillows swallow me up as I fall back, and my eyes shut instantly. I can feel his fingers in my hair, maybe twirling it, playing with it. And as the darkness of sleep starts to pull, I think I hear him talking, but the darkness wins like a heavy weight pulling me under.
CHAPTER TWENTY - TWO
BEFORE
RHETT – AGE FIFTEEN
One of the staff told him his father wanted West in the study. Rhett turned back along the corridor, looking at the clock as he went by. Nearly six. That meant there had already been several hours of drinking time.
He looked upstairs towards the bedrooms. If he stood a little slacker, and smirked on entry, and tried all the things he knewabout his brother, then maybe his father wouldn’t recognize the difference. Maybe.
He sprinted upstairs to change into one of West’s T-shirts, shrugging it into place. He didn’t look like West in his own eyes, but a few movements in the mirror, and a slight ruff of his hair, and the exact resemblance was there for the rest of the world to see.
Sighing, he backed away from the mirror and turned for the stairs. This would be the second time this week, and it was only Wednesday. More would come by the weekend.
Within minutes, he was at the door that his father would be behind. He took a deep breath, brightened his face into something that West would wear, and knocked. Something crashed inside the room, followed by another crash of sound.
“Come.”
Walking in, he was immediately met with a father pouring a tumbler full of something down his throat and the room almost trashed. Rhett swallowed and closed the door behind him, quietly. He instantly regretted the change his face must have given away because his father sat, smirked – just like West’s smirk – and lounged back.
“I’m not a fool, boy,” he slurred.
Rhett nodded and frowned his usual frown. “No, Sir.”
“Where’s the son I do want?”
“In town.” West wasn’t in town. He was in the woods somewhere with Lara.
“The hell is he doing there?” Rhett couldn’t think quickly enough for a decent answer. There was no reason for him to be in town. They didn’t shop, or get groceries, or have any reason to be there other than inquisitive meandering.
“Getting something for cook.”
“For cook?”
“Yes, Sir.” His father refilled his glass and threw the drink down his throat again, staggering forward.
“She’s paid to get her own things! I’m not having my own fucking blood doing her errands and-” Rhett tuned it out. All of it. It went on and on, and his father started throwing things around the room in a rage about nothing. He got closer to Rhett, shoving him for no reason as he walked by. Rhett waited, knowing what was coming one way or another. There was no getting away from it – never was. But this way, at least West didn’t get it. He made sure of that now. He put himself in the firing line. Always.
