A tear rolls down my cheek, hitting the water’s surface with a tiny splash.
‘I love you, pure heart.’
Another tear falls.
‘Stay bold.’
As I float, I let her words lull me into a state of such calm, I nearly fall asleep. My eyelids are heavy as anvils, but I force them open long enough to scrub away the grime of the day with a small bar of rose soap. I’m not crazy about the cloying floral scent, but it’s better than nothing.
By the time I finish conditioning the worst of the snarls out of my hair, the water has grown cold and I’m so exhausted, I’m in danger of passing out right there in the bathtub. l flip a lever and watch the water start to swirl down the drain in a mesmerizing vortex, not moving until the last drops disappear with a low gurgle.
Maybe tomorrow, in the harsh light of day, things won’t feel so dire.
The lie sits heavily on my chest as I force myself to my feet. Grabbing a plush bath towel off the heated rack to my left, I wrap myself up in it like a butterfly’s cocoon. I’m sure there’s a hairdryer lurking in one of the many bathroom drawers, but I’m far too tired to bother — even knowing I’ll wake up in the morning looking like I’ve been electrocuted.
Dropping my towel by the edge of the bed, I collapse face first on the plush feather mattress and worm my way beneath the covers with still-damp limbs. I’m asleep as soon as my eyes close, blessedly too exhausted to replay all the awful events that have unfolded today. Too wiped out even to dream about the future and the vast uncertainty it holds.
Chapter Eight
“So,you’re the royal bastard, huh?”
The question jolts me out of a sound sleep. Approximately two seconds later, the weight of a body landing on my mattress bounces me several inches into the air. With a squawk of distress, my eyes spring open and I take in the sight of an unfamiliar auburn-haired girl around my age, sitting at the end of my bed. Her legs are folded up in front of her like a pretzel — legs to her chest, palms on her knees, chin on her hands…
Eyes on me.
“What…” I shake my head to clear it, hoping she might disappear. “Who…”
“I’m Chloe Thorne. Sister to Carter, spawn of Octavia, all around pain in the Lancaster family’s ass.” Her head tilts. “Nice boobs, by the way.”
Startled, I drop my gaze down to my chest and feel my cheeks flame. I completely forgot I fell asleep naked, after my bath. Yanking the sheet up to cover the goods with as much decorum as I can muster, I grit my teeth in the vague approximation of a smile.
“Care to tell me what you’re doing in my bedroom at the ass crack of dawn, Chloe Thorne?”
“I hate to break it to you, but it’s nearly one in the afternoon.”
“What?!”
She nods. “Yep. Had yourself a real nooner. Not that I blame you. Yesterday was a bit of a shock, I’d imagine — some recovery time is probably par for the course.”
I run a hand through my wild hair. As I predicted, it feels like I lost a bet involving an an electrical outlet and a fork. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“I was curious about you. Secret love child, and all. Who would’ve thought old Linus had it in him?”
“News sure travels fast around here,” I mutter.
“Faster than gossip in a high school cafeteria. Plus, I had an inside scoop.” Her lips twitch. “My brother. I believe you’ve met.”
“Unfortunately for me, yes.”
She snorts. “Yeah, he mentioned the two of you didn’t exactly hit it off.”
A bolt of annoyance shoots through my chest. “Mmm. You could say that.”
“He’s really not so bad,” Chloe assures me.
“Uh huh.”
“You’ve had about two hours with him as your so-called brother. I’ve had twenty-two years. Trust my judgment on this one, okay? His bark is worse than his bite.” Her expression falls a bit. “This wasn’t an easy family to grow up in.”