The Entitled Page 16

  “Whatever you need.”

  “I need you not to talk to her. I need you not to mention her name. I’m done! She’s dead to us!”

  “Just take a moment and think, Reed. She sounds bad. I… I want to try to help fix this for you two.” His face has never looked more sincere.

  “If you want to help me, then don’t judge me when I fuck someone tonight. Because I have every intention of doing that.”

  Jax takes a breath. His eyes, like mine, are filled with tears.

  “Are you sure? This is Tess we’re talking about. She’s your soul mate. She’s all your firsts,” he croaks.

  I rub my tattoo, his words nearly bringing me to my knees. I look at him. “She got all my firsts! My heart, my soul and she destroyed my very being, Jax. I gave her all of me!” I shrug. “Everything now is just semantics.”

  “I won’t say her name.” I turn away because he is pressing his palms into his eyes, and I have to stay strong, angry. I haven’t stopped rubbing my damn tattoo, as if that is somehow going to fix me.

  “Let’s go.” I drop my hand, pull on a navy T-shirt, and rake a hand through my wet hair.

  Jax brings his hands down. “Okay, who’s it going to be, Reed?”

  “Gia.” I breathe. “I want Gia and then I’ll go from there.”

  TESS

  Past – sixteen years old

  London, England

  I haven’t left my room since Reed hung up on me on Jax’s phone.

  I can’t eat; I barely sleep. I have called and left so many messages that Reed’s and Jax’s mailboxes are full. All I want to do is crawl and beg for him to take me back. I tried to take a shower, but leaving my bed forced me to realize that he is gone and I’m alone. My body reacted by breaking out into a cold sweat. After that, the shaking should have alarmed me. Since I was twitching so much, I barely made it back to the bed and the warmth of my down comforter. I may be having a breakdown, but I’m too sad to care.

  The door of my bedroom, or prison, depending on how you want to look at it, swings open.

  My father’s leggy girlfriend strides in and opens my curtains. The day spills into the room causing me to blink in surprise as she pulls the covers off me.

  “What the hell, Lana? I don’t invade your personal space,” I wail, clutching the edge of the comforter. It’s become my security blanket.

  “Enough! You will get up. Take a shower and eat, or I will tell your father!” She taps her manicured nails on my dresser. “Also, Brance says your phone is dead.” She marches out of my room, high heels clicking.

  “God.” Massaging my aching head, I pull myself into a sitting position and search for my phone. I find it under my bed. Some of the worst things that have happened to me have happened on that phone. I know it’s crazy, but I refuse to touch it.

  Wrapping the comforter around me, I drag myself to the bathroom. The entire room, including the sink, is white marble. No wonder I freak out every time I come in here—it’s like being inside a museum.

  Taking a steadying breath, I don’t want to take the chance that Lana might tell my dad anything. He would probably have me committed to the looney bin. Unfortunately, with the way I look and feel, they’d probably keep me.

  I force myself to drop the comforter and shower, brush my teeth, and moisturize my poor, neglected face.

  Once, I’ve survived all that without having another panic attack, I search for something to wear. As I walk through my large bedroom, it reminds me of a hotel room. Celery-green walls and silky brown Berber carpet grace this room. It’s so different from my old room. Espresso wooden cabinets surround the wall that faces my large bed. A pang of homesickness washes over me. I slip on a pale blue dress because it requires less energy than having to go through pulling on pants.

  Like an old woman, I enter the upscale kitchen. It’s smaller than what I’m used to.

  My dad bought this loft years ago. He never stayed here, as he was still living with my mom and me in Manhattan. To be honest, I’m sure my greedy mother has no idea it exists. Probably why he seems to love it. He and Lana have had it completely refurbished.

  Svetlana, or Lana as I affectionately call her, is sitting with a magazine, happily drinking her coffee.

  She smiles at me. “So much better, right?”

  Rolling my puffy eyes at her, I proceed to melt down.

  “Reed has broken up with me.” I hiccup, trying to tell her everything from masturbating on Skype, to Reed giving me an ultimatum. It’s all coming out fast and garbled. It doesn’t even make sense to me, but Svetlana is holding me, murmuring encouraging things and letting me sob all over her Chanel dress.

  When I have nothing left to say, she wipes my eyes, sits me on the stool next to her, and pours me some coffee.

  Fixing her Rolex, she crosses her long legs. “Well, your boy is definitely very naughty. And so domineering already.” She lifts my face. “You sure that’s what you want? He is only going to get worse as a man.”

  “He’s not mine anymore, so I guess it doesn’t matter.” I grab her hand as it dawns on me he’s truly left me.

  “Oh my God. What am I going to do?” I look around the kitchen as if it can help me.

  Lana slaps the wooden island, making me jump. “You are going to thrive, my beauty. And don’t be so dramatic. He wants you! It’s all right to grieve. Then you need to take your power back. Did you call Brance?”

  I blink at her, not understanding what she said, but I am feeling slightly better. I shake my head. “I can’t touch that phone.”

  Her eyes narrow on me as if that’s the most normal thing to say, and she nods. “Fine. We need to get you a new one.” Her slight Russian accent emerges. “Use mine.” She hands it to me. “And eat this.” She forces a banana into my hand.

  After a deep breath, I press Brance’s number, taking a small bite of banana as I wait for him to answer.

  “Lana?”

  “No, it’s me.” I barely choke out the words, my tears hot and stinging.

  He sighs. “Pretty Girl, it’s going to be okay.”

  I nod then realize he can’t see me. “Yes… I need my power back.”

  “Um, yes this is true. I see Lana has started without me. Listen, I’m flying in on Friday, staying until Tuesday.”

  “Good,” is all I can utter.

  “I have to fly commercial.” The annoyance in his voice is clear.

  “Brance, my life is falling apart. Please don’t complain about first class!” I look at the ceiling trying to get control of myself.

  He’s silent. I can almost see him pouting as I try to take a small sip of coffee. “I’m getting a new phone.” My voice is shaky at best.

  “Good, that’s a good first step and when I get there, Lana and I will have you wondering why you ever shed a tear for that arrogant prick.”

  I start crying again. Did he have to mention him? “He’s my soul mate, Brance, and now he’s gone. I’ve lost my soul!” I clap my hand over my mouth, trying not to completely lose it again.

  “Goddamn it, Tess, he is a domineering, spoiled fuck! Can’t you look at this as maybe a blessing in disguise?”

  “No, he’s mine!” Yet he isn’t anymore. He could be sleeping, kissing, touching another girl as I sit here. A torturous vision of Reed doing all those things almost makes me lean over the sink and vomit.

  “Tess? You still there?”

  Clutching the phone so tightly my fingers are numb, I answer, “Brance, you have to find out what’s going on. You have to spy. I need to know everything Reed is doing.”

  Jesus, I sound like a lunatic. But I don’t care. This is what I’ve become. If he has moved on, I need to know. “Please,” I beg, knowing I sound pathetic.

  “Don’t ask this of me. I want to cut off his dick—not spy!” That makes me giggle. Unfortunately it turns into sobbing.

  “Don’t cry, Tess. You’re killing me. He’s not worth this fucking agony.”

  “Please, Brance… I need to know.�
��

  “Fine,” he snaps. “Put Lana on. I’ll see you in a week.”

  “You will? You will spy for me?”

  “Jesus, Tess, don’t make me repeat it.”

  If I had any pride left, I would try to pretend. But I’m a shell of my former self. And having Brance spy makes me feel better.

  “Love you, Brance.”

  “Love you too, Pretty Girl.”

  I put the phone in Lana’s outstretched hand. She spins on her heels and walks into another room.

  Taking a deep breath, I pour out my cold coffee and get myself a fresh one. I fish around for the Advil, locating it behind the sugar. I take three, wondering if I should take a Valium too. Lana walks back into the kitchen, eyeing me as if I’m an unknown species.

  “So, first stop, phone. Then lunch, then shopping?” She claps her hands.

  I snort. “Lana, I love you, and I appreciate everything you have done for me. But there is no way I’m leaving the flat today,” I say, pulling my wet hair on top of my head in a messy bun.

  She looks at me from top to bottom. “You’re right.”

  Surprised, I drop my hands.

  She smiles. “First phone, then spa, then lunch or dinner depending on how much time we need to put you back together.”

  Sighing, I’m relieved. The thought of letting someone else make all my decisions always appeals to me, especially today.

  “Finish your coffee. I’ll get us appointments. Meet you in ten.”

  I shake my head at her. “Whatever. I don’t have the energy to fight you.”

  “I know.” She gives me a sassy look.

  I can’t help but admire slash be jealous of Lana. From the moment my dad introduced us, she seemed more like a sister than my dad’s girlfriend. I remember being so angry at my father that horrible day. And completely dumbfounded at Svetlana. She was cooking stir fry in her five-inch heels and wearing Versace. I wanted to hate her; after all, she should be my enemy. But she smiled at my father with true affection, then turned the full force of herself on me. Her charm and strength are like catnip to a cat. With her height and killer legs, she’s everything my mother dreamed of being. Not to mention she is a natural blonde and stick skinny. Sure, she pumps up her lips, and her breasts are fake, but she wears it well. Everything about Lana screams classy. She’s my best friend—I mean best girlfriend. Brance will always hold the spot as true bestie. I don’t know how I would have survived the last year and a half without her.

  Apparently, Svetlana feels the same way about me. She is my biggest advocate with everyone, including my dad. It doesn’t matter that we came from completely different worlds. She’s the first to own her past. Not embarrassed of it at all. Her parents are dirt poor from Moscow. She used her looks and long legs, to catch the eye of one of the head mafia leaders, becoming his girlfriend at sixteen. Although, she is a little fuzzy on how she ended up with my dad. All she says is she wanted him and so far, she seems to have gotten him.

  Looking at my reflection in the glass cabinet door, I don’t recognize the girl staring back at me. I close my eyes, shutting her out. This girl doesn’t belong to Reed Saddington. How will I ever survive? I guess I’m going to have to find out who this Tess Gallagher is. The tears want to come. Instead I walk out the door and make my way to our private car. New phone for a new Tess. Maybe I’m not as weak as I think.

  REED

  Past – seventeen years old

  New York, NY

  “Christ,” I groan, rolling over. My eyes try to focus. The room is slightly spinning. Lying on my back, I look over at the naked brunette.

  Rubbing my hands over my face, I feel my cock start to wake up. With the amount of alcohol and coke, my mouth feels like a dead rat slunk through it.

  Sitting up, I swing my legs over. I’m in a hotel, a suite. It all comes flooding back to me like a nightmare.

  Jax and I celebrated Andrew’s eighteenth birthday and his dad thought it would be fun for us to have a suite at the Four Seasons. I glance around the room. The only ones here are the brunette and me. I make my way into the bathroom and pull on my jeans as I go. When I glance in the mirror as I piss, the reflection staring back at me is barely recognizable. Jesus, I look like crap. Leaning in closer, I look at my eyes—they’re bloodshot and swollen. I need to get myself together and dry out. Huh… my hair is sticking up. It’s an interesting look.

  The water is ice cold, and as I splash it on my face, I hope it stings. My head is pounding. I need a bump, I think, steadying myself. That’s how hungover I am. Lurching over to the love seat, I grab the vial from last night and take a quick snort. Closing my eyes as I feel the rush, my heart starts pumping and my whole body wakes up.

  “Fuck, yes!” I hiss glancing over at the woman in my bed. I think her name was Christy, Roxy, something with a Y. She was new and did not disappoint.

  I usually make a point of avoiding brunettes and prefer blondes. But last night I was fucked up enough not to care.

  Andrew’s dad supplied the girls. A blonde, a redhead, and a brunette. It was his welcome-to-manhood gift. I guess everyone forgets that Jax and I are only seventeen. We still have another six months before we’re legal.

  I feel better! Looking down at the tent in my jeans, I have to admit, I love to fuck on cocaine. I wonder if I should wake her up and take her from behind or see if Andrew or even Jax wants to trade. This chick’s dark hair is a reminder that I don’t need this morning. I reach for my tattoo and give it a rub, my heart beating fast. Yep, the coke is working. Leaning forward, I take another snort, deciding not to wake the brunette. I’ll persuade Jax to give up his redhead.

  Opening the door to the living room, I’m greeted with the sight of my twin passed out on the massive L-shaped couch, the naked redhead lying on top of him.

  The TV is on, but muted. A porn flick is playing. I should take her, if only to piss him off. Jax is completely stingy when it comes to women. He does not like to share. Which makes no sense. It’s not like he gets attached to any of them. Again, everyone thinks I’m the dominant one, but my brother takes the whole caveman thing to another level. He’s not into the kinky stuff though. One on one is his thing. I, on the other hand, couldn’t care less. I love one on one, threesomes, whatever. Andrew and I have that in common. We’ve indulged in a lot of it lately. As long as it feels good and it’s a female in the middle, I have no problem sharing. There was only one person I wouldn’t share. Rubbing the back of my neck, I close my eyes as if that is going to block her out, but she’s already invaded me, claiming my shame.

  Her face always haunts me, teases me. Everyone said it would get easier, that soon, I wouldn’t even remember what she looks like. I clung to that thought like a half-drowned sailor on a raft. She is the first thing I see and the last, her breathtaking visage as clear as the moment we met.

  I hate her! I hate that every day I go through this. Rubbing my hands over my face, I glance again at Jax’s ginger friend and my cock comes alive. I need to fuck; my erection is becoming painful.

  Adjusting myself, I lean over and push the girl’s hair away, giving me access to her breast. I don’t try to make excuses for my demons. I know my parents are worried and that my dad must know about my addiction to hooker sex. How could he not—they cost a fortune! I guess, he figures it take’s my mind off…

  After that day long ago when Jax said he would never mention her name, no one has spoken it—it’s the proverbial elephant in the room. My mom tried once, and it was the worst fight we’ve ever had. After that, she kept quiet although recently she mustered her courage hinting that I might want to try seeing some girls from school. The look I shot her froze her in her tracks. I’m not boyfriend material. Never will be, so why torture a girl?

  I feed my sex addiction with beautiful pros, like this pretty redhead. No strings and they always make me forget.

  I kick at my brother. “Dude, you need to put some clothes on or go to your room.”

  “Screw you, Reed.” He rol
ls over, pulling the girl with him.

  “Actually, I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind if I traded you?” The redhead is waking up. Stretching, she shoves her very large fake breasts in my brother’s face.

  He opens an eye. “Are you trying to piss me off this early?” His mouth latches on to her nipple.

  I start laughing. “Go to your room, man, or let’s swap.” He stops sucking and pats her ass for her to get up. Having no desire to see his morning hard-on, I walk to the bar. “You want a Bloody Mary?”

  Jax reaches for his jeans, pulling them on, then leans back on the couch, eyeing me. “What’s going on, Reed?”

  “Hey, call room service. Have them bring some Worcestershire, Bloody Mary mix, and some olives.”

  “Starting off with a bang, huh?” He lifts a dark eyebrow at me. Standing up, he reaches for the phone dialing room service as he buttons his pants. The redhead, who has put on some panties, walks over to me.

  “So, I never had identical twins before. You and your brother into that? No extra charge.” I grin at her and reach for her large breast, rubbing her nipple. She growls, and I pinch it, making her gasp. Her eyes darken.

  “That’s not up to me. You have to talk to my brother.”

  “No!” Jax yells and goes back to ordering room service. It sounds like he is ordering way more than Bloody Mary mix. He hangs up and walks over to the redhead, pulling her back to him and biting her neck.

  “We all got a girl. You should have picked her last night.” His large hands massage her breasts. I turn to the picture window and stare blankly down at Manhattan. “Maybe I’ll see if Andrew is up.”

  Jax stares at me, then whispers something into the redhead’s ear. She nods and walks into my room.