Fated Love (The Soul Sisters Series Book 3) Page 18

  “Don’t do that again,” I hear bursting my bubble, “I don’t want to think I’ve done something you don’t like. You have to talk to me because it makes me feel like shit. We need to be honest OK baby.”

  Shit, I’ve made him feel bad and that’s not right, “Sorry, I…” I stop, this honesty thing is tough going.

  “What, tell me?”

  “I’m not used to getting what I want in the bedroom or feeling like I can ask for it. Princess Lottie of the past got treated like she was an ornament and made of glass. That is so far from what I wanted and needed that it’s not true, I guess my nerves got the better of me and I forgot that it was OK to speak up. Sorry.”

  A grin spreads across his face, “Fucking hate to hear about anyone else touching you, but thrilled I’m giving you what nobody else has. The freedom to explore. You wanna play baby, we’ll definitely play,” he leans in and kisses me and then heads out to the office, leaving me with fluttery insides, from just mentioning the word play. Oh yeah, I really want to play.

  Sometime later I’m dressed and ready for my first trip to town in what feels like forever. I know I’ve grown and changed, but I’ve missed my soul sisters desperately. We kept in touch, but they don’t know the half of what’s been developing and I’m nervous, I hope they’ll spot the changes in me. If they don’t, it will all have been for nothing and it will mean I’ve got a problem. It seriously scares me that the people I care about will see the old Lottie and I’ve not really changed like I think I have and I’m still living a lie. On the outside I know I look different, my attire and clothes are more casual. My brain no longer automatically dresses for an occasion or chance meeting to impress the elite that no longer matters.

  For the first time in ages I’m leaving the home in what my mother would class as indoor clothes, or something the house staff would wear and she’d be mortified. I’m wearing skinny jeans with holes at the knees, an oversized shirt barely buttoned up, showing a Killers concert T shirt and my old faithful Chuck Taylors. My makeup is functional rather than fashionable and I love it.

  I love it all because the pressure feels gone. This is me.

  Living a life I want to live, not second guessing any possible repercussions from my actions.

  First stop, the sheriff’s office. I don’t learn anything I didn’t already know, apart from some of my father’s associates are being looked into, as well as the garage that worked on all our car maintenance. The sheriff has asked me to check any records of the last time my dad’s car was in the shop, to see if they can confirm it had indeed been in there. It would also seem that Jonas hasn’t shared details of the photos we found and to say the sheriff was shocked is an understatement. I get the impression he too was sucked in by my parents convincing show of morality and acting. I agree to pass the pictures over, in case they are relevant.

  Sheriff Roberts also confirms any investigations into Sophie Fray and her death on my doorstep have been formally closed. It’s recognized that she was troubled by the loss of the man she loved and found herself in a desperately dark place.

  Next stop is Mudjoes and I’m a little late which means my girls are all in conversation when I land at their table. Neely bursts out laughing, Dolly stands to give me a hug and Flo looks tearful because she’s relieved to see me in one piece.

  “Have you lost all your money and had your Neiman Marcus cards confiscated, what’s with the grunge dress code?” Neely enquires.

  “Hey what’s wrong with it, she is totally rocking those jeans,” Dolly chips in.

  “Ignore them, it’s amazing to see you Lottie, you’re glowing and you look refreshed,” compliments Flo.

  “Finally, some love from one of my girls,” I reply, as Jo brings my drink over, it’s my usual coffee choice and she gives me a wink of approval, being a hot woman of the world she can see my transformation.

  “There are so many questions, I don’t know where to start,” begins Flo.

  “Well I bloody do,” interrupts Neely, “Oli, spill, I want the low down. I saw him this morning and he looks as refreshed as you do.”

  “We may have resolved some issues in our friendship and be seeing where that goes and how refreshingly good it could be.”

  “I totally knew it, that guy is epic and once he woke his shit up, or Dolly did it for him, we knew he’d pull it together,” Neely rejoices.

  “Woke him up? How?”

  “I may have told a little white lie and intimated that you’d moved on and were humping the sexy spa guy.” This causes her and Neely to high five across the coffee’s and I love that my girls had a hand in helping me get my guy. The tactics they’d used were what we’d been deploying for years, clearly it was all about timing. That, and me changing, Oli needed to know I wasn’t growing up to be a Stepford country club wife and based on this morning, I’d say he’s clear that I’m not.

  “Tell me about Carter, How is he?”

  “Oh Flo, he’s this brave, amazing little dude who came into my life when I needed it. I try not to think about the circumstances too much, I’m in the here and now zone. I intend to make sure that Carter grows up feeling none of the shit that I put up with.”

  Each of the girls are pleased that things are working out on that front, especially Dolly, “Will he be coming here for visits, do you think we’ll get to meet him soon? My girls would love him, I’m sure.”

  “Maybe, I’m still trying to get my head around logistics, it doesn’t feel right to have left him.” I’m doing my best to play it casual, it would be foolish to discuss the future when I’m not sure what that looks like yet myself. Huddling the girls in close, I ask them to bring me up to speed with what I’ve missed in town and nothing has really happened. As expected, word has got out about the investigation of my parents car crash and we’re so engrossed in our catch up, that I don’t realize we’ve got extra company until someone kicks my chair from behind.

  Claire fucking Michaels is stood glaring at me.

  “Can I help you with something, Claire?”

  “What have you done?” she leans in, unable to contain the disdain she feels, “ My guy follows your pampered ass out of town and the next thing I know he’s no longer my guy and he’s all up in your rich, spoilt pussy.”

  “Back off bitch, we all know what your arrangement was. It was just that, an arrangement and it’s over, you know he ended it before he came after me.” I’m the new Lottie, I’m not putting up with this shit, I may look feisty on the outside, but my brain is doing battle with my old self and her inbuilt need to preserve a public appearance.

  “I thought we’d gone over this Lottie, he’s my guy. I’ve worked long and hard to get him. Just because you click your fingers and flash that gold cunt in his direction doesn’t mean you’re entitled to him.”

  Like all the times in the past, my girls are gearing up to take my place in a bitch fight, they know I’ll only let this go so far before I back down.

  Or so they think.

  The old me would have already backed off, but the new me is raring to go and it’s about time people saw that. I don’t give a fuck about how they see me, no one is going to treat me like shit and get away with it any longer. “You know what, I’d rather have my golden cunt than your over used public pussy. I’m going to say this once, turn around, fuck off and stay out of my way.”

  Mudjoes is silent, I’ve never used uncouth like language and curse words in a public place before. Most people are staring so badly I’m beginning to think I’ve grown an extra head.

  Claire bursts out laughing and turns away, “That has got to be the most ridiculous and lame ass threat, I’ve ever heard. Let me know when you’re up for it and I’ll be ready.” The people gathering are still quiet as she heads out the door. Dolly and Flo are astounded at my outburst, no one is saying anything and because she walked away, it’s beginning to feel like she’s won. Everyone in here thinks what I just said were words, they doubt I’ve got it in me.

  Neely however, she�
�s raising her eyebrows, openly challenging my threat, the look on her face confirms that they all doubt I’ve got the bottle. A snap decision and moment of courage over comes me and I chase her out of the door, “Come here you fucking bitch,” I shout.

  My friends are all on my heels and I can hear them all talking at once, it’s a rushed attempt to either stop me or prepare me for an ass kicking.

  Claire has stopped on the sidewalk, she’s definitely shocked that I’ve taken the fight to her, “Don’t even try it, you’d break a nail and need manicure rehab within the hour.”

  This fucking cow will not make a fool out of me. Time to introduce Lottie Groves, passionate, kick ass fighter and all round protector of the things she cares about.

  Before she can get out of my reach, I grab her hair and force her to her knees on the sidewalk, “I should smack some sense into you, you fucking slut, but I won’t because I’ve wasted too much time on you already. You don’t exist for me or my guy. You hear me, he’s my guy. You are nothing to us. Stay away from him or things will get ugly. If he wanted you, he’d have you. He doesn’t so back the fuck off. Now!” Claire is trying desperately to prise her hair out of my fist and the more she tries, the harder I pull. I’m yanking so hard that she begins whimpering in pain. “Do I need to make myself any clearer?” Claire mumbles, but doesn’t verbalize anything. “Fucking answer me and tell me you understand.”

  “I… owww! OK, Shit, yes. OK!”

  “Charlotte is there a problem here?” I hear the voice of Sheriff Roberts.

  “No Sheriff, not at all, Claire just had something in her hair, I was helping her. It’s all sorted now.” Instead of releasing her, I help her to her feet using her scalp, the continued level of pain she’s in doesn’t go unnoticed and in all honesty, I’m feeding off of it.

  Power.

  Claire grabs her purse off the sidewalk and shuttles off, holding her head. Wisely, the sheriff follows her, he’s expecting immediate retaliation or some kind of cat fight type of back lash. If he sticks with her, that fight will be avoided.

  “Soooooo, I think it’s safe to say our girl Lottie has found herself and isn’t the same privileged princess we used to know,” mumbles Neely.

  I start giggling and notice that the windows of Mudjoes are lined with spectators. My cell phone chimes in my purse, notifying me of an incoming text:-

  Oli: Fuck me, you just get better. I am so hard for you right now.

  Glancing across the street I see Jonas, Sonny and Chris all stood outside his office. The grin on my guy’s face is handsome as fuck. Jonas is shaking his head and Chris appears to be handing money over to Sonny.

  Day one back in Hawkstown and it’s clear for all to see.

  Charlotte Groves, Country Club princess is dead.

  Lottie Groves, sex kitten, skinny jean, Chuck Taylor wearing kick ass warrior is here and she couldn’t be fucking happier.

  Chapter Twenty Four

  *****

  Oli

  “Woman! Bedroom! My cock has been hard since I saw your power play in town. I’m gonna tear your shit up baby.” I was rushing and impatient to take the pleasure I’d been visualizing all day, I was already flinging my shoes off with abandon and unbuttoning my shirt as I went to track her down.

  “Lottie,” I bellowed again, “Where the fuck are you?” My damn belt was being a pain making me more frustrated by getting stuck on the belt loops on my pants, I’d just got it out when I made it to the living room. “Oh fuck,” I panic and try retreating from the room.

  “Hello Son,” I heard my dad greet me. By the time I’d righted my clothes and re-entered the room my dad looked proud and my mom looked mortified. Lottie was sitting there with a stupid grin on her face and she didn’t look embarrassed, she looked like she was struggling to hold in her amusement.

  The little fucking minx.

  I sent her a look, letting her know revenge was sweet and there would be plenty of it. Oh, sweet motherfucking revenge.

  “Um, I’ll just get those refreshments and nibbles,” she says nervously as she scurries off to the kitchen.

  “Really Oliver, is that how you behave?”

  “Seriously Mom, in my own home I can do as I please.” Dad isn’t saying anything, although I get the feeling he is one step away from fist bumping me.

  “Well you’re not in your own home. A fact that we found out when we popped by and we had to pop by because you haven’t returned any of my voicemail messages.”

  “I’ve been busy and you’ve tracked me down now, what’s up?”

  “Does something need to be up for me to see my son and get confirmation on these silly country club rumors? That you are now in fact involved with Charlotte.”

  She says the word involved like it’s a criminally dirty word, but what concerns me is that my gut tells me I’m right, she’s sneering because of who I’m involved with. Months ago she would have been congratulating me, but now it would seem not and it’s just because of the emerging drama in Lottie’s life. It would seem my mother is reverting to type and back to reputation, protection first and happiness second.

  “Don’t do that,” I push through my gritted teeth, “Don’t go all prim and pissy about Lottie, in her own fucking home as well. She doesn’t need or deserve it.”

  “Oliver your language is uncalled for,” she replies trying to discipline me with a look of displeasure on her face.

  Before I can really get into it, or invite them to politely fuck the hell off. Lottie returns with a tray of nibbles, breads and drinks. Playing the dutiful hostess, partly because she knows my mother will expect it, but mainly because the role comes naturally to her. Still, her posture is a little stiff and rigid for my liking, something is wrong.

  Fuck, she heard my mother and there is no telling how this is going to proceed. At best Lottie can now be described as… unpredictable.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Hart, could I offer you a drink, some bread?” she says smiling sweetly, but even I can detect the falseness of her manners.

  “Some of that bread looks good and a glass of the Lemonade too would be lovely,” my dad asks, also astute enough to sense that drama looms in the wings.

  “Here’s your drink and oh silly me, I forgot the bread knife. Never mind, we can just tear this shit up,” she says.

  My dad chokes on his drink, which I’m fairly sure I see come out of his nose and my mother draws back her shoulders, ready to do battle. “Now Charlotte, I don’t think that’s necessary, a knife would be better.”

  “Oh I don’t know Mrs. Hart, you didn’t come here for bread. You came here to see if Oli was damaging relations for you at the country club, because he’s involved with me.”

  Fuck, it’s safe to say, she definitely heard my mother’s comments.

  “I’m not sure that’s an appropriate way to treat house guests,” my mother scolds back at her.

  “Lottie…,” I try and intervene, in truth I don’t care for my mother’s behavior at all, but I don’t want Lottie going all psycho on her either.

  “You’re absolutely right, guests are people you usually invite over and if you behaved like a respectable one whilst you were in my house, I’d be acting appropriately.”

  “Well, I… your mother would…,” and there it is.

  Flame.

  Touch paper.

  Fucking BOOM!

  “Don’t,” she explodes, “Do not come into my house and talk to me about my mother. I do not give a fuck what she would think. Just like she didn’t give a fuck what would happen to our family when she was having sex with the gardener, or the pool boy or anyone else. It’s my house and I will behave how I want, I will say what I want and if you don’t like it then don’t come here. I don’t give a shit whether you approve of me and how I behave. Loving the shit out of your son should be good enough for you. Now, would you like some bread and iced tea or not?” Lottie finishes surprisingly calmly and smiles, goading my mother, holding up the jug of iced tea.

  Once again, m
om’s face takes on the judgmental, horrified look, whilst dad looks proud and me, I’m seriously struggling with not grabbing Lottie and fucking her raw on the damn coffee table.

  She loves me.

  I heard it.

  She said it out loud.

  Twice in one day this amazing, beautiful and resilient woman has defended me in some way. I can’t stop the grin that I know is consuming my face and she doesn’t even realize she said it. Her subconscious did it for her and that means it’s real.

  “Mom I think you need to apologize to Lottie and then preferably leave.”

  “I…,” my mom begins.

  “Charlotte, forgive my wife and her notions of grandeur, I’m glad to see you’re feisty enough to stand up to her. The woman that doesn’t cower and bow down to her ridiculous ideals and lifestyle is absolutely the right woman for my son.”

  “Well, I…,” my mom tries again.

  “Enough, you’ve said enough crap and I won’t listen to anymore. Get your purse, we’re leaving. I’m sure you’ll contact Charlotte when it’s appropriate and make your apologies.” My dad then looks at Lottie and continues, “Charlotte, keep that fire in your belly, you’re going to need it to keep my boy on his toes and son, you fuck this up and lose this woman, I will disinherit you.”

  On that ending he turns his displeased glare on my mom and waits for her to shuffle through the front door, closing it behind them.

  “Oh. My. God. I went too far.” She’s mumbling to herself, possibly regretting her actions and I don’t want that.

  “Don’t even fucking think about it, I loved every word of it,” I say dropping hints, I want to hear her say it again.