Twisted Palace (13 page)

With that statement, the rest of dinner is a stilted, awkward affair. Dinah goes off to relay Steve’s instructions, and when she returns, she’s ordered around shamelessly. She meekly obeys every command, but still manages to throw a cutting remark my way here and there. And every time Steve turns his head, she flashes me an evil smile, which goes a long way to proving my theory about not trusting snakes.

“Mind if I go?” I ask once Steve puts away the last of his meal. There’s only so much of this I can take, and after thirty minutes of it, I need a break. “I’ve got homework.”

“Of course.” As I walk past his chair, he grabs my wrist and tugs me down to plant a kiss on my cheek. “I feel like we’re really a family tonight, don’t you?”

Um. No.

But I can’t diagnose what’s going on inside me. The kiss on the cheek from my dad feels odd. He’s a stranger to me in all the ways that count, and the urge to escape rides me hard.

When I hurry into my room, the expensive leather suitcase tempts me. I could take it and leave. Be done with this weird family and not have to face the emotions that Steve’s existence brings out in me.

But I just shove the suitcase into the closet, pull out my homework, and try to concentrate. Outside, I hear the television flick on and then off. The phone rings. There are other signs of life, but I’m not leaving this room.

Finally, around nine, I yell that I’m going to bed. Steve wishes me a good night. Dinah doesn’t.

After brushing my teeth and slipping into one of Reed’s old T-shirts, I climb into bed and call him.

He answers after the second ring. “Hey, how’s it going over there?”

“Bizarre.”

“How so?”

“Steve is awful to Dinah. He said he thinks she might have tampered with his equipment, so his revenge is to make her life hell. He’s doing a good job of it.”

Reed snorts, clearly not feeling any sympathy for Dinah. “Ella, she’s an original See You Next Tuesday.”

“Ugh, don’t use that word.”

“I didn’t. I used several words. Four of them. How you choose to interpret them is your business.”

“Dinner was so awkward. Worse than the night Brooke announced her pregnancy.”

Reed whistles. “That bad, huh? Do you want me to come over? You said you have your own room.”

“I do, but we better not. Steve’s so...I can’t read him. I’m afraid of what he’d do if he caught you in here tonight.”

“All right. Say the word, though, and I’ll be there.”

I snuggle deeper under the covers. “Do you think Dinah did it?”

“I’d like to pin it on her, but Dad’s investigators say she was on an international flight from Paris when Brooke died.”

“Shoot.” No motive then. “What about hiring someone? Like Daniel hired someone to knife you.”

“I know.” He blows out a heavy breath. “But there are three sets of surveillance cameras at the building. The lobby and elevator cameras show only me.”

“And the others?”

“The stairwell cameras show nothing. The third set are in the service elevators. Staff, movers, delivery people use those. They were down for maintenance that night, so there’s nothing there.”

My heart beats a little faster. “So someone could’ve gone up the service elevator.”

“Yeah. But the DNA all points in my direction.” He sounds miserable. “And Dinah and Brooke were friends, so what’s the motive? Brooke had a rough childhood, made friends with Dinah when they were teens. She and Dinah worked their way into a circle of rich men, hoping to land one of them. Dinah got lucky with Steve a couple years back, and Brooke set her sights on Dad. But he wasn’t willing to put a ring on her finger.”

“Do you think your dad…” I’m reluctant to say it, but…Callum could have hired someone, too.

“No,” Reed says sharply. “No one in my family offed her. Can we talk about something else? Where are you?”

I don’t want to talk about anything else, but I give in because I’ve had too much conflict tonight. I’ll never get to sleep at this rate. “In my room. You?”

“I’m in yours.” I hear him inhale. “Smells like you. You wearing my T-shirt?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“I’m not having phone sex with you before actual sex,” I reply tartly.

“Aww, poor Ella. I’ll make you feel good at school on Monday.”

His low-voiced promise makes me tingle, but since Monday is a whole forty-eight hours away, there’s no point to this conversation. I change the subject to the game, and we talk for a long time about nothing and everything and just hearing his voice makes me feel better.

“Goodnight, Reed.”

“Night, baby. Don’t forget about Monday.” He laughs quietly as he hangs up.

Cursing him, I shove the phone on the nightstand and am about to turn off the light when my door swings open with no warning.

“What the hell!” I shoot up and glare at Dinah, who’s walking in as if she belongs here. “I locked that!”

She waves her keycard in the air. “These babies open any door in the suite.”

Oh my God. Really? I’d noticed the keycard slot under the handle, but I thought only
my
card could open it.

“Don’t open this door again,” I say coldly. “If I want you to come in, I’ll invite you in.” Which will never happen, because I’m never going to want her to come in. Ever.

She ignores that, tossing her long blonde hair over one shoulder. “Let’s get one thing straight, sweetie. It doesn’t matter if we’re in a hotel or in the penthouse—it’s still
my
house. You’re nothing but a guest here.”

I raise a brow. “Isn’t it Steve’s house?”

Dinah scowls at me. “I’m his wife. What’s his is mine.”

“And he’s my father. Who, by the way, left
me
everything after he died. Not you.” I smile sweetly. “Remember?”

Her green eyes flash, making me regret taunting her. I’d warned Steve not to poke a bear, and here I am, doing the same thing. I guess I’m my father’s daughter.

“Well, he’s not dead anymore, is he?” Her lips twist in a smug smile. “So I guess you’re back to having what you’re used to—nothing.”

I falter, because she’s right. I didn’t particularly care about all the money Steve left me in his will, but now that it’s gone, I really do have nothing. No, that’s not true. I have the ten thousand dollars Callum gave me when I got back to Bayview after running away.

I make a mental note to hide that cash the first chance I get.

“You have nothing, too,” I point out. “Steve controls everything around this place, and it didn’t look like he was too happy with you at dinner. What’d you do to piss him off so hard?” I pretend to think it over. “I know. Maybe you killed Brooke.”

Her jaw drops in outrage. “Watch your mouth, little girl.”

“What? Did I hit a nerve?” I narrow my eyes at her. “Am I getting too close to the truth?”

“You want the truth? Brooke was my best friend—
that’s
the truth. I’d kill you before I’d ever kill her. Besides, I’ve learned that accidents aren’t the best way to get rid of people.” She smiles savagely. “I have a gun and I’m not afraid to use it.”

I gape at her. “Did you just confess to trying to kill Steve?” Oh man. Where’s a recorder when you need it?

She lifts her chin as if she’s proud of her actions. “Watch yourself, Princess. When it comes to children, I’m a big believer in the saying
seen but not heard
. As long as you stay out of my way, I’ll stay out of yours.”

I don’t believe her, not for a hot second. She’s going to get some serious pleasure out of tormenting me now that I live under her roof. And was that comment about the gun a threat? Holy
hell.

“Watch yourself,” Dinah says again, then flounces out of my room and closes the door behind her.

I stay in bed. There’s no point in getting up and locking the door when I know that any keycard can open the darn thing.

Taking a breath, I shut off the light and close my eyes. Visions of Dinah flashing a gun in my face pop up, along with ones of Reed behind bars.

Sleep is elusive.

D
on’t
lose ur temper with S. Not worth it. He’ll come around.

That’s the text Reed sends me before he leaves for practice on Monday morning, and it’s pretty much the same thing he’s been saying to me this whole weekend.

This whole long, terrible, long, frustrating,
long
weekend.

Come around, my ass.

Steve has already gotten me fired from my job and decided I’m trying out for a school team—you’d think that would be enough. But nope, it’s not.

Last night, he informed me he was imposing a curfew. I have to be home by ten each evening, and I have to turn on the location finder on my phone so he can keep tabs on me. I’ve already decided that in the future I’ll be leaving my phone at home. There’s no way I’m making it easier for him to find me.

The problem is, this Friday is the Riders’ first playoffs game. Reed was cleared to play, and I desperately want to go because I’ve decided I’m done with Reed’s reluctance. Every day that he’s the prime suspect in Brooke’s case is a day that rattles my sense of security. If we’re supposed to act normally, if we’re supposed to at least pretend that all is well in our lives, then this distance between us should not exist.

It’s time for us to have sex. I don’t care if I have to play dirty to make that happen. So I’m going to seduce him. The away game is the perfect place to do it, and there’s an amusement park thirty minutes away that a bunch of kids were talking about going to. The plan is—or was—to use that as an excuse to stay overnight.

Except now, with Steve’s stupid curfew, I don’t know how I’ll be able to swing it. Hopefully Val can help me figure it out today. But I’m going on that away trip, one way or another.

I finish brushing my hair, tuck my shirt into my skirt, and grab my backpack.

Out in the living room, Steve is lounging on the couch, paging through a newspaper. Doesn’t he ever work?

Dinah is at the dining table, sipping a flute of orange juice. Or maybe it’s a mimosa because I don’t think people use fancy glasses for their OJ.

She eyes me over the rim, a smirk forming on her pouty lips. “That skirt is rather short for school, don’t you think?”

The paper rustles as Steve lowers it. He frowns as he examines my uniform.

I look down at my white shirt, open blue blazer and ugly pleated skirt. “This is my uniform.”

Dinah glances at her husband. “I didn’t realize the headmaster at Astor Park Prep encouraged his female students to dress like whores.”

My jaw drops. First of all, the skirt goes all the way down to my
knees
. Second of all, who says things like that?

Steve continues to study my skirt. Then he slaps the paper down by his side and glares at me. “Go back to your room and change.”

I glare right back. “This is my uniform,” I repeat. “If you don’t like it, take it up with Beringer.”

He points a finger at my legs. “You can wear pants. I’m certain that in this day and age, that’s an option for a school uniform.”

This is a stupid conversation, so I walk toward the door. “I don’t have pants.” Well, actually, I do. But those khaki monstrosities are ugly as hell, no matter that they have a three-hundred-dollar price tag. I’m not putting those things on my body.

“Of course she has pants,” Dinah says, laughing gleefully. “But we all know why she chooses not to wear them. Easier access with a skirt.”

Another frown slashes Steve’s face. “She’s right,” he tells me. “I had my share of fun times with girls in skirts. They’re easy lays. Is that what you want to be? Easy Ella?”

Dinah titters.

I clutch the strap of my backpack and turn the doorknob. If I had a gun, maybe I’d shoot Dinah with it.

“I’m going to school,” I say stiffly. “I’ve already missed one entire day of classes so you could drive around Bayview. I’m not going to be late because you have a problem with my school uniform.”

Steve stomps over and lays his palm on the door. “I’m trying to help you. Girls who put out are disposable. I don’t want that for you.”

I pull the door open with a sharp jerk. “Girls who put out are girls who want to have sex. There’s nothing immoral about that. Or gross. Or deviant. If I choose to have sex, then that’s what’s going to happen. It’s my body.”

“Not while you live in my house,” he thunders, hurrying after me down the hall. Dinah’s laughter follows us all the way to the elevator.

I jab the
down
button. “Then I’ll move.”

“And I’ll have you hauled back here. Is that what you want?” At my silence, he sighs with frustration. In a softer tone, he says, “I’m not trying to be a bad guy, Ella, but you’re my daughter. What kind of dad would I be if I just let you run around and sleep with your boyfriend?”

“My boyfriend is your best friend’s son,” I remind him. I will the elevator to arrive faster, but it seems to be climbing the forty-four floors one excruciating second at a time.

“I know. Why do you think I’m so anxious about you dating him? Callum’s kids are wild. They’re
experienced
. That’s not what I want for you.”

“Being a little hypocritical here, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” He throws up his arms. “I don’t deny it. The last thing in the world I want for you is to date the guy I was in high school. I had no respect for girls. All I wanted was to get in their pants, or under their skirts.” He throws a pointed gaze at my hemline. “And once I had them, I moved on.”

“Reed’s not like that.”

Steve gives me a look of pity. “Honey, I told all the girls I wanted to have sex with that they were special and the only ones for me, too. I’ve used all those lines before. I would’ve said anything to get a girl to say yes.” I open my mouth to protest, but Steve keeps talking. “And before you say that Reed is different, let me point out that I’ve known that boy for eighteen years and you’ve known him for a few months. Who has the more informed perspective?”

“He’s not like that,” I insist. “He’s the one who’s holding out on me. Not the other way around.”

Steve laughs abruptly. Shaking his head, he says, “Damn, that boy’s got moves I hadn’t even thought of. I’ll give him that.”

I blink in confusion.