Private 09 - Paradise Lost (13 page)

BOOK: Private 09 - Paradise Lost
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The horses were perfectly calm. As if nothing had happened.

"Are you all right?" Upton asked me.

I burst into tears.

"Whoa, whoa," Upton commanded the horses. They came to a stop and he easily dismounted. Then he reached up for me. I found I couldn't even disentangle my foot from the stirrup, I was shaking so violently. Finally, Upton had to remove my foot for me, and I just slid off the side of the horse. He caught me in his arms.

Not at all graceful, but what did I care? I had almost died back there.

We both had. I pressed my face into Upton's shoulder and cried. My chest was racked with huge, painful sobs, but I couldn't stop myself. All the terror just released itself all over his expensive shirt.

"It's okay. It's okay," he said, stroking my hair. "We're fine." I looked up at him and sucked in a rattling breath. There was sweat all along his brow and above his lip. "I thought we were going to die."

Upton blinked. "You know, so did I for a moment there." I smacked his arm as he laughed. "You're supposed to tell me I'm stupid and we were actually miles from the cliff, and that I'm just overreacting." Upton breathed in through his nose and gave a slight nod. "You're stupid," he said, placing his hands on my shoulders. "We were actually miles from the cliff, and you're just overreacting."

"Liar," I said, my heart still pounding. "What the hell happened? I thought Misty was supposed to be steady." The horses had wandered a few yards off and were picking at the grass.

"I don't know. She's never taken off like that before. Ever, "he said, wiping his brow as he looked at her. "Something must have spooked her. Maybe a branch hit her or something?" I shook my head. "We were at a wide part of the trail. There was nothing."

"Bizarre," Upton said, shaking his head. "It had to be something." Or someone.

I felt a chill go through me and looked back at the trees. It was amazing how far off they were, how much ground we had covered in those few short seconds. I wanted to run back there and check the spot where Misty had first taken off. See if there was anything--or anyone--there. I thought of Poppy's warning to stay away from Upton. Of her ire the night before, and Paige's and Sienna's hostile attitudes toward me. Was it possible? Gould someone actually have set off Misty to teach me a lesson? To try to keep me away from Upton?

"Come on," Upton said, lacing his fingers through mine. "We'll walk the horses back to the stable. I think that's enough riding for today."

"Try forever," I joked, squeezing his hand.

When we reached the horses, Upton tethered Misty to Bolt, then took Bolt's reins and led both horses with one hand so he could hold my hand with the other. As we turned north toward the stable, I couldn't help but check over my shoulder one last time at the trees and the bluff, just to see if anyone was there. But there was nothing except the sound of waves crashing against the rocks so very far below.

CHAPTER 22 GARDEN TOUR

We met Noelle and the rest of the crew--minus the Ryans, Poppy, and Sienna--at Shutters for brunch as planned. Everyone arrived in waves, so I was forced to retell the story of our runaway horse experience five times. By the time we were done with our meal, I was so sick of thinking about it that all I wanted was a nice, relaxing afternoon on the beach. Instead, thanks to a plan Gage had floated by the crew while Upton and I had been out riding, I found myself en route to the Ryans' estate yet again. We were gathering at the scene of my near-disaster so everyone could go Jet Skiing together.

Jet Skiing. Like me and my still-quivering thighs were really up for that.

"Look on the bright side," Kiran said as she, Upton, and I walked out onto the patio where the week's first party had been held. We had driven up together in Kiran's car and were the last to arrive. Compared to that first day, there were relatively few people there. Just our group and Mr. and Mrs. Ryan, all hanging out near a big table covered in fruit and sandwiches.

"Which bright side would that be?" I asked.

"You have an exciting story to tell when you get home!" Kiran said, lifting her palms.

"Yes, but I already have plenty of exciting stories thanks to Sabine," I told her lightly, ignoring the twinge in my chest as I said the girl's name. "I wanted to leave here with only boring stories. Boring, passing-out-in-the-sand-and-getting-sunburned stories." Upton put his arm around me. "I believe we can still accomplish that goal. Although no sunburns. I don't want to see that adorable nose of yours peeling," he said, touching his fingertip to my nose. Kiran groaned and Upton and I laughed as we arrived at the table. Gage walked right over to me and smacked me on the back.

"Starting to think you're a cat, Brennan," he said. "Nine lives and all the jazz." Once again, he wore nothing but his board shorts and a smile. Considering his sexual history and lack of an edit feature on his tongue, I supposed I shouldn't have been surprised that he was such an exhibitionist. He popped a grape into his mouth and held it in his teeth, showing it to me for a second before crunching into it.

"Ew," I said.

"I'm serious," he said, grabbing another grape. "I think you should let it all ride on Casino Night. You're, like, the luckiest farm chick on earth."

"Or the unluckiest," Paige put in as she stopped by with Daniel.

"It all depends on how you look at it," Taylor said as she added gobs of mayo to a turkey sandwich. "I prefer the 'glass is half full' approach."

"Yeah, well, no glass or plate is half full for long around you these days," Paige said with a sniff before moving on.

Taylor's jaw dropped slightly, and she looked down at the sandwich for a moment as if the sight of it suddenly made her ill. But then something in her expression shifted and she took a big bite out of it, defiantly staring after Paige as she chewed. That whole out-of-Billings freedom kicking in again, I supposed.

"So exactly how fancy is this Casino Night thing? Are we talking Legacy fancy, Oscars fancy, or Cannes fancy?" I asked Kiran, picking up a wedge of watermelon. I couldn't imagine it was Cannes fancy, but I threw it in there just to show her I knew that the French film fest was the ultimate in red carpet. Something I'd learned after living in Billings for a year and a half with my fashion maven friends. "Because I still don't know what to wear."

"Don't worry," Kiran said with a wink. She snagged a bottle of water out of a big silver bucket filled with ice. "I've got you covered," she added, tapping my forehead with the bottle. I was about to ask her what that meant when Sienna shoved aside the sliding glass door and trudged out, looking grim. Mrs. Ryan walked over to her and wrapped her up in a hug, her ever-present silk jacket billowing in the ocean breeze.

"All settled, dear?" she asked.

"Yes, thank you. I appreciate your letting me stay here," Sienna replied, her arms crossed tightly around her black-and-white sundress.

"You moved in?" Noelle asked.

Sienna nodded. Her face was pinched with worry and exhaustion as she approached us.

"It's morbid, staying in Poppy's hotel suite without her. It's way too still."

"Of course it is," Noelle said sympathetically. She patted the girl on the back as if she understood. Then she made an exaggerated eye roll as she turned around to face us again and grabbed a sandwich. Kiran, Taylor, Tiffany, and I pressed our lips together and hid our faces to keep from laughing.

"So no one's heard from Poppy yet?" Daniel asked.

Silence. The hush felt cold and foreboding.

"Stop this now," Mrs. Ryan said, putting her arm around Daniel from the side. "The island police are looking into the matter, and I'm sure that Poppy will be fine. In the meantime, would anyone like a tour of the garden?"

I caught Noelle's eye. Why would anyone want a tour of her garden?

"Say yes," Upton said under his breath, reaching past me for a plate. "She lives to give tours of her garden."

Why would I humor this woman? She had been nothing but rude to me since we'd arrived.

"Sure. I' d love a tour!" Amberly said, putting her water bottle down and straightening the skirt of her fifties-style blue dress.

"What about you, Reed? You've never seen it before," Paige said loudly, smirking. "My mother's plants are to die for."

I glanced at Noelle for help.

"Don't look at me. I've been on the tour," she said as she gathered some fruit onto her plate.

"Go ahead! It'll be fun!" Kiran cheered drolly.

"Upton?" I asked hopefully.

He laughed and grabbed a soda from a separate bucket. "You're on your own, I'm afraid. No one needs to take that tour more than once."

Tiffany rolled her eyes and sighed. "I'll go with you," she offered, wiping her hands with a linen napkin and placing her empty plate down on the table.

"We'll come, too," Graham offered, knocking Sawyer on the shoulder.

"Thank you," I mouthed to Tiff and the Hathaway guys. The more the merrier, when it came to a task like this. Who knew what kind of accusations and insults Mrs. Ryan would toss at me if I were alone with her and Amberly?

And so we were off. Paige, Daniel, and their father all, for no apparent reason, decided to come along. There was definitely a weird vibe in this family. Like the four of them couldn't stay out of one another's sight for very long. Sometimes I wanted to get away from my family so badly I locked myself in our basement. Or went away to boarding school. The garden was on the west side of the mansion, surrounded by a copse of trees that provided shade for the plants that needed it. It was really rather beautiful, with huge beds of artfully arranged flowers and not a weed in sight. As we strolled along, I made sure to stick next to Tiffany. Amberly and Paige walked a bit ahead while Graham and Sawyer slid in behind us. Daniel brought up the rear, walking with his hands behind his back, watching his mother at the front, as if riveted by her every word.

Like I said--weird.

"Every plant in the garden is indigenous to the Caribbean," Mrs. Ryan recited, clasping her hands together and wringing them. Wow, this woman was tightly wound. "It's the most extens-ive garden of its kind on the island and has been photographed for several botanical and lifestyle publications."

"Oooh. I'm impressed," Graham joked in a whisper, earning a punch in the arm from his brother. I smiled. The gesture made me miss my older brother, Scott. I wondered what he was doing back in Groton right then. Probably convincing my parents to return my Christmas gifts and give the cash to him, since I hadn't bothered to come home.

"Listen, Reed, I never got a chance to apologize," Tiffany said under her breath as we slowly picked our way along the broken-slate path. "I'm sorry about what happened at Billings after Thanksgiving."

My heart felt warm for a moment, then sickly as I remembered that awful night when I'd walked back into my dorm and found every one of its residents gathered in the parlor without me. The night Noelle had announced that I'd been voted out.

I almost said, "It's okay." An automatic reaction. But then I realized, it wasn't okay. I understood that they had thought I'd betrayed Noelle, but no one had even bothered to hear my side of the story--that, as far as I'd known, Noelle and Dash hadn't been together anymore. That even if they had stayed broken up, it never would have happened again. I felt too awful about it.

"Yeah. What happened there?" I asked.

Tiffany bit her lip. "I don't know; Noelle was so determined.... She said it wasn't her idea to vote you out, but I think she talked Shelby into bringing it up." So it had been Shelby Wordsworth. Interesting, but not that surprising. Portia Ahronian's preppy roommate had barely spoken to me before I was president. Then she became my biggest fan until Noelle returned, when she promptly went back to spending all her time kissing Lange butt. She had more faces than a world clock. And with her, whatever Noelle said, went. Although, to be fair, that applied to most of the Billings Girls.

"I just think she couldn't handle being around you after that video and, to be honest, I sort of understood. I know now that I didn't have all the facts. None of us did. Well, except Sabine." She frowned, as if the very thought of Sabine made her uncomfortable. I knew the feeling. "Anyway, if I could do it over, I wouldn't have voted you out. I'm sorry."

"Thanks," I replied. "I'm glad you said something. I've been feeling--"

"Ladies? Am I boring you?" Mrs. Ryan interrupted loudly. Tiffany and I both paused, snagged. Graham and Sawyer stopped behind us.

"Sorry, Mrs. Ryan," Tiffany replied.

I looked around, surprised at the ground we had covered without my noticing. We had arrived near the tip of a bluff overlooking the ocean. My knees went weak, looking at the edge I'd almost gone over. To my left, the pathway forked off toward a tree that stood all by itself, surrounded by a ring of rocks in the dirt. There was a big X etched into its trunk.

"Why is this tree marked?" I asked, taking a couple of steps toward it.

"I wouldn't get any closer if I were you," Mr. Ryan said grimly. I froze, my hands coming together nervously. "Why not? " Mrs. Ryan's smile was all condescension. She stepped past her husband and Amberly to stand in front of me. "Because that is a manchineel tree," she said, looking me in the eye. "It's highly poisonous. Eating its fruit can kill you, and simply touching its sap will blister your skin. So you might want to take a step back."

"Yeah, Reed. We wouldn't want you to get hurt," Paige said sarcastically. I walked back over to Tiffany, hugging my arms, my heart actually pounding because of a tree. "If it's so dangerous, why keep it around?" I asked. Mrs. Ryan chuckled, shaking her head. "Because my collection wouldn't be complete without it. This is one of the island's most notorious plants." She looked me up and down derisively. "You know, Miss Brennan, when you're visiting a foreign land, it's customary to learn a little something about the place before you arrive. It's common courtesy, really."

She brushed by me and rejoined her husband at the front of the tour. I felt a twinge in the back of my throat at being publicly scolded yet again.

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