Fear that I’d lost him for good had me clutching the toilet as I emptied my stomach. It wasn’t logical. I couldn’t explain it. I looked at myself in the mirror as I brushed my teeth and didn’t recognize the girl I saw staring back at me. Barbie may have been a cold, hard shell, but she was impenetrable. She protected the girl I cherished the most. This girl that Jamie had reduced me to was weak. I’d never survive him or my father. Not like this.
Marching back into my room, I snatched my phone from the bedspread, and with an evil smile, I dialed.
BEE HAD ENDED THE CALL, but I was still staring at my phone, waiting, debating, long after the screen had turned black. I didn’t understand why I wanted to call her back. I sure as fuck wasn’t about to apologize. I’d given her sweet, and she’d thrown me away. There was only one way that call could go and deciding she’d had enough for one day, I tossed my phone on my desk and stood from the chair.
I didn’t have time for this shit. My head kept telling me to stop chasing her, but my heart and dick wouldn’t listen. It was two against three, and with every encounter, I was inclined to see their point of view. Maybe if I fucked her—just once—I could finally get over this obsession. As cold as Bee had become, I doubt I’d want seconds.
Jesus, fuck. You’re a real Casanova, Buchanan.
Shoving back into the bathroom, I was thankful I no longer had to share the space as I shed my shorts and boxers. It sucked for my cousin, though. There was no way in hell I’d get lucky enough to score some in-house pussy just to give it up willingly .
Stepping inside the glass enclosure, I took a brutally cold shower. I stayed under the spray until my fingers and toes pruned. Padding back into my room, I was wrapping a towel around my waist when my phone rang. For a moment, I was hopeful that it was Bee crawling back until I glanced at the screen and read my mother’s name. Smiling, I picked up immediately. Not answering wasn’t really an option anyway. She’d only hang up and call back until I did. Dilwen Buchanan was a spitfire, and she’d kept my father’s hands full when he was alive.
“Hello, beautiful.”
“Jameson John Buchanan, is it true?”
My balls immediately shriveled to the size of a prune at my mother’s angry tone. She was seriously pissed, and as far as I knew, I hadn’t actually done anything this time. “Is what true?”
“That you’re smoking!”
I gulped. “Mom—”
“Yes or no, Jameson?”
Hanging my head, I answered her. “Yes.”
The phone cracked in my fist when I heard her sob. Each one was a knife to the gut. I deserved the pain. I welcomed it. “How could you? After what it did to your father, how could you?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Is that all you have to say?”
“I’ll stop,” I promised as I sat on the edge of my bed. My legs no longer felt strong enough to hold me up.
“You think it will be that simple? Barbette tells me you’re going through almost a pack a day!”
My grip loosened, and I quickly caught my phone before it slipped. “Wait a second… Barbette told you?”
“Yes. I just got off the phone with her.” There was a pause, and some of my mother’s anger faded when she sensed mine. “Don’t you dare be upset with her. She’s worried about you.”
I couldn’t bring myself to tell my mother that the girl she adored, the one we’d both been sure I’d marry one day, had used my dead father as a tool for revenge. My mother lectured me for an hour straight, but I didn’t hear a word of it. The entire time I was plotting my revenge. Using my father’s illness and making my mother cry just to get back at me was out of the fucking question. It wasn’t until my mother finally stopped to let the twins speak to me that the red haze faded. Adan and Adara were only seven and barely remembered our father. I tried my best to fill the void he’d left behind—even with an ocean between us.
“So, what’s your boyfriend’s name, Dara?”
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” she answered with the cutest giggle. “Boys are gross!”
“Right fucking answer.”
“Muuuuuum!” Adan screamed in the background. “Jamie said ‘fucking’ again!”
“Thanks, you little shit.”
“Muuuuuum!” Dara screamed this time. “Jamie called Adan a ‘shit’!”
I should have known those two would gang up on me. It was their twin thing and what helped me sleep at night since I’d practically left them to fend for themselves. Sure, they had my mom, and she was as fierce as any lioness, but I was their big brother. I should be there protecting them, but I was here, preparing to take over the family.
Everyone thought my reason for being sent back to the States was so that Uncle Thomas could straighten me out, but that had only been a small part of a very fucked-up story.
I teased the twins for a few minutes more and spent twice that time trying to stop their crying when it was time to say goodbye. My mom ended up taking the phone from them and then issuing a very clear warning to cease smoking. I didn’t doubt she’d fly over three thousand miles to box my ears until I bled if I didn’t.
I quickly threw on clothes after hanging up and was out the door to pay Miss Chatty Patty an overdue visit. I’d left her alone this past week, but clearly, that was a mistake. Barbette was feeling neglected and in desperate need of my undivided attention.
I didn’t see Elliot’s car in the drive or the garage when I peeked through the window and knew the lapdog Barbette called ‘Mother’ was likely to be with him. I’d worry about the servants, but it seemed the Montgomerys no longer employed any. The first time I’d broken in here, I assumed Elliot Montgomery had fired them in a fit of rage, but it’s been months, and this place was a ghost town. I started for the stairs, intending to catch Bee by surprise when the sound of glass shattering stopped me in my tracks. I rushed toward the kitchen—where the noise had come from—without stopping to think who it might be and that I didn’t belong in here.
The moment I reached the kitchen, I stopped short at the sight of Bee sweeping up what looked like a tiny porcelain teacup. She wore a smirk you wouldn’t expect to find on someone who’d just broken expensive china. However, it wasn’t only her expression that left me reeling but also her appearance. Bee looked completely different from when we video chatted an hour ago. Her hair was pulled high in a messy bun, the makeup was gone, and she wore what might have been described as rags compared to her usual attire, but to normal people, it was simply a T-shirt and shorts. The biggest question mark, however, had to be the apron tied around her waist and the rubber gloves.
Was Barbette doing… chores?
Before I could make sense of things, her head shot up, and her blue eyes widened at seeing me standing there. I’d been as quiet as a mouse and as still as a statue. The moment some of her shock cleared, she dropped the broom as if it were a gun, and I’d just caught her murdering someone.
“What are you doing?” I snapped.
Someone had better give me some answers right fucking now.
Huffing, she stormed across the kitchen until she was standing toe to toe with me. “I’ll ask the questions. What are you doing here?”