Rose of Thorne (2 page)

“Yeah
, man, I’m in. I’ll see you there in a bit,” I say before hitting the end button.

I am
glad to have another reason for not attending another of my father’s stupid business dinners. I grab my car keys and head downstairs. I am about to turn the corner when my father’s cold voice echoes down the mansion hallway.

I hate him. I hate this house. I hate
everything about my life. Ever since my mother died when I was eight, I can’t remember loving much of anything. My father’s new flavor of the week usually frequents the house, and even the housekeeper and other employees don’t stick around long. I can’t blame them though. He is simply too arrogant and cruel to be around for long. He pushes me in academics and never allows failure. He’s gearing me up to work with him at his design firm, and that’s the last fucking thing I want in this miserable life.

Like most teenagers
, I drown myself in whatever distraction I can find. For me, it’s always been sports. I love the release it gives me, and it allows me an excuse to stay away from home. While growing up, my father never came to any of my games, and honestly, most of the time, I never told him what I was doing. I just signed the permission slips myself and no one was ever the wiser.

As I
’ve gotten older, partying and girls have become another favorite past time of mine. I easily forget about my troubles when I drown myself in the bottom of a bottle, and I do it every chance I get. Too many times, I wake up with some girl wrapped around me, and have no memory of what has gone down. No matter the hangover, I am right back at it the next chance I get.

“SEBASTIAN! Where
in the hell do you think you’re going? I told you the advisory team is coming for dinner tonight,” my father shouts from down the hallway.

I cringe as I turn
to face him. This weekend is my last one at home before I head back to Duke University, and I am certainly not spending it in this hellhole with him.

“I’m going out
and meeting up with some friends at Case’s lake house. They’re having a cookout, and I already promised his parents I’d be there,” I lie. Lying is so damn easy because that’s what my life is. One gigantic lie.

“Damn it
, Sebastian! You are nineteen years old, and it’s about damn time you learn about how my company works. This had better not happen again. Am I understood?” he fires at me.

“Yes
, sir,” I answer and I head out the door.

             
FUCK YOU FATHER!

As I make my way to my
new Porsche, I can hear him screaming at the young housekeeper inside. I am sure that the girl will be giving her notice soon. I don’t care anymore; I learned long ago not to form attachments to anything or anyone. What’s the point anyway? The ones who care for me always leave in the end. My life is, and always will be, pure fucking hell.

The party is in full
swing when I arrive at the lake house. Girls in bikinis are dirty dancing by the pool, and some of them are even missing their tops.

Yeah, this is
going to be a great night
!

Case hands
me a full bottle of tequila when I meet him on the other side of the pool. Over the next three hours, I dance, make out with some girls in the water, and finish a little over half of the bottle of tequila. Right now, I feel fucking fantastic.

My phone chimes with a me
ssage from Jessica, a girl I have hooked up with a few times this summer. She is smoking hot, and never cares when I leave her immediately after we fuck.

JESSICA
:
Come over. I am ready for you. House is empty.

ME:
On my way!

I say
my goodbyes to my buds and tell them that I’ll see them the next time we’re home for break. I fist bump Jackson, and tell him that I am going to get a piece of Jessica’s ass before I head home to my miserable life.

I pile into my Porsche and turn
up the stereo. Godsmack’s
I Stand Alone
blares through my speakers. No one is on the road this late, and I feel fucking invincible! I shift gears and watch the speedometer quickly rise. My phone rings and I see that it’s my father calling. No doubt, he wants me to come home, but there is no fucking way I am answering it. I turn up the bottle and press harder on the accelerator. I know I am swerving over the line as I take on these curves, but who cares. No one is out right now anyway. My phone chimes again with another text from Jessica. My eyes are too glazed and blurred to see what it says. My hand slips and I spill the last of the tequila onto my lap, and my phone lands in the floorboard.
“SHIT!” I curse as I reach down to retrieve it from between my legs.

B
right lights greet me when I glance back up, and I freeze. I’m too far over in their lane, and my arms aren’t working fast enough. I slam on my brakes and hear screeching sounds as my car continues surging forward. I smash into the left side of the car, and it continues skidding past me. I slide off the road and come to an abrupt halt in the small ditch. The airbag deploys and I feel broken glass in my hair, but otherwise, I’m okay. I open my door and stagger toward the road. Broken glass is everywhere, and I can see the other car’s taillights as they light up the darkness around us. Making my way across the road, I blink to clear the blur in my eyes. The front of the other car is smashed into a huge tree off the side of the road.

In that
one moment, my whole world changes. As I gaze in the car, a lifeless woman stares back at me, her body draped over the dashboard, her head twisted in a way that I know her neck is broken.

OH MY GOD! NO
!

The man behind the wheel is mangled beyond recognition.
I stumble off the pavement and throw up in the nearby ditch. Muffled cries pull me out of my daze. Frantically, I climb over the debris and open the back door on the driver’s side. A small girl is moaning, but looks to be okay. I check her breathing before climbing over her. And it is then that I see her.

I don’t think I have
ever seen anything more beautiful in my life. She looks like an angel, lying there with her long waves framing her face. I check her breathing, and her face falls toward me. Blood pours down the other side, but she is alive.
Thank God, she is alive
! She begins to moan again as she pulls on her arm. I notice it is caught on something in her door. Looking down, I see that her bracelet is keeping her from pulling her arm free. I gently unclasp and carefully remove it. Without thinking, I place the bracelet in my pocket and begin examining her. I’m afraid to move either one of them, and I know I need to call for help. I see her phone lying in the seat next to her, and I quickly dial 911.

“911, what’s your emergency?
” The operator says as she comes on the line.

“There has been an accident near Carey Road. Please come quick!” I shout and hang up the phone.

I know I don’t have long. I need to get out of here before someone finds me, but something about her just pulls me to her. I brush her hair away from her face, and for a brief moment, her unfocused eyes open. My breath halts at the sight of them. They are the most startling color of turquoise I have ever seen. Her eyes close again as she begins mumbling. I know I have to get out of here now.

I hurry out of the car
, taking her cell phone with me. My car starts and I manage to get it back up on the highway. I feel like a damn coward for leaving them, but I know I will be facing a life sentence in jail for what I just did. I turn in my driveway, make my way up to the dark house, and park in the side garage. The car should be safely hidden, because no one ever comes in here except my father.

My
father is still awake, drinking his expensive scotch when I fly into his office.

“What the fuck
, Sebastian! Where have you been?” he shouts as he slams his full glass down onto his desk, causing the expensive drink to splash across the wood.

My breathing is erratic as I stand there gripping the sides of his desk. .

“Father… I don’t know what to do. I’ve messed up… it’s all my fault… and now… they’re dead. What do I do?”

T
hat is the moment that I do something I will always regret. I trade my soul to the devil himself.

Skylar

Present

Birthdays are always so exciting
, right? After all, out of the whole entire year, it’s your very own special day. It’s a day meant for celebration that you share with your family and friends. They gather around to watch you blow out candles and make your most heartfelt wish. Well, not for me. At least not anymore. Technically, today is my birthday, but it only serves as a painful reminder of the worst day of my life. Now, each birthday only means that I’m another year older and that another year has gone by without the two most incredible people that I have ever known.

In years past
, I thought long and hard about what my birthday wish would be. For weeks, I practiced holding my breath to make sure that I could blow out all of those candles when the time came. It’s funny to remember all of the things that I wished for over the years, but I will never forget my last wish seven years ago. As I held my breath to blow out the candles, I wished long and hard for an acceptance letter from Baylor Dance Academy. It had been my dream since I was a little girl. I had been fortunate enough, just weeks before my birthday, to land an audition, and was beyond anxious to see if I’d been accepted. Looking back, I should have wished for another thousand birthdays with my family instead.

O
n occasion, wishes do come true, but sometimes too late. My acceptance letter arrived the day after my parents’ funeral. I remember locking myself in my best friend Kylie’s room and crying as she read it aloud to me. Without my mom and dad here to see me dance, I never wanted to perform in front of an audience again. Sophie needed me, and arrangements were already in the process for us to live with our elderly grandmother. I knew I could never leave my little sister. Some wishes have to remain just that… wishes.

Yes, it ha
s been seven years since my heart was whole, and I have accepted that it never will be again. While others plan a fun-filled birthday party or open presents, I will be doing what I have done every year for the past seven. Today, I will be making the hour-long drive to the little remote cemetery just outside of Austin, Texas where I buried my parents.

D
ark, ominous clouds are building on the horizon, but I don’t mind. They seem to mimic my solemn mood. The clock on my car radio reads 7:13 am when I pull on to the narrow circle drive that leads to the entrance. Parking my old red Honda and shutting off the engine, I silently pray that it will crank when I am ready to leave. I certainly can’t afford a car repair bill right now, but I guess I should be thankful that it made the hour-long trip without overheating. The wind is picking up and through the window, I observe the colorful leaves swirling in the air. I smile as my mind takes me back ten years ago to my backyard.

              My daddy would rake for hours to make enormous piles of leaves that Sophie and I called ‘our mountains’. While most dads would call their kids to help bag them up for disposal, ours called us to come and jump in them. He was that kind of dad.

I
was such a lucky girl!

We would spend hours and hours tossing the leaves up in the air and giggling as our dad laughed and chased after us.
My mom, being the incredible photographer that she was, snapped pictures of all of us together. Each click of the camera captured memories that now seem like a lifetime ago. So many of those memories are in beautiful frames and albums that I still can’t bring myself to unpack and look at. As grateful as I am to have them, I don’t know if I can ever bring myself to look at all of them again. Maybe one day, but just not right now. I blink the tears back that now burn my eyes and I jolt myself back to the present. Funny… the past, the present… even the future… they all three hold nothing but pain for me.

The c
risp morning air catches me when I step out of the car, and I tug on my old black coat. I try not to rip out the satin lining that is now carefully held together with safety pins. I grab the white flowers from the passenger seat and make my way over to the far corner of the cemetery where their plots are located underneath an old massive oak tree. I pull a cloth from my pocket and gently wipe the middle of the stone where dirt and grime have collected over their picture. After a few gentle wipes, I am now staring at their two smiling faces.

Suddenly, I feel all the violent pain rush back. Memory after memory flashes before my eyes, and no matter what I do
, I can’t get them to stop. My chest constricts so tightly that I feel as if my lungs are going to explode. Frantically, I have to lean down to catch myself on their ebony marker and slowly drop down to my knees. Now, as I meet their picture eye to eye the tears begin to flow uncontrollably. The lilies in my hand shake violently as I finally allow myself to let it all out. I only allow myself two places to cry… here and on the floor of the empty dance studio. I have to be strong because there is no one left to be strong for me.

I
slowly trace the letters R-O-S-E with my fingertips and try to regain control of my breathing. I set the flowers in the stone vase and arrange them. Sitting there, I stare at their smiling faces and try to compose myself as I begin talking to them.

“I miss you both so
much. Sophie is, well, she is so fantastic, you guys. She is beautiful inside and out and never gives me any problems. I know you would be proud of how she’s grown. I still can’t believe that this is her senior year of high school. She is fantastic at soccer, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she gets offered tons of scholarships to play in college. I hope that I’m doing okay with her. I wish I could give her more, but it’s so hard. Sometimes, I think that all I do is let you guys down. I have a six-month internship, and then I will be graduating in May. Momma and Daddy, I am so scared and I don’t know what to do. We are barely making it now. Since Uncle Trevor took everything, I just don’t know how I can do the internship for free and only work part time at the café. I don’t know how long my savings will last us, and I’m scared it won’t be enough. I just wish you were both here, and that I would wake up to find that this had all been a nightmare. I miss you both every day. Every. Single. Day. I love you both with everything in me.” Taking in a deep breath, I lean my forehead to their picture and whisper the words inscribed on my lost birthday bracelet. ‘Love is forever. My forever is with you.’ I lean down, kiss the picture on the stone, and wipe the tears off my face.

Movement in the corner of
my eye catches me off guard and I notice a man walking down the opposite end of the row of graves. I can’t make out his face from here, but a dark black coat covers his tall, young, broad frame, and he looks to be wearing a suit. He holds a handful of beautiful pink lilies and stares down intently at the marker in front of him. This place holds so much sadness for someone else today too, or so it seems. I make my way to the car and hold my breath as I turn the key. It takes six attempts before I finally hear the engine turn over and roar to life.

SHIT
! This is so damn embarrassing!

I turn the heat up in the car and make my way down the gravel drive.
I notice the man has now turned his head in my direction as I carefully drive past his shiny black Ferrari.

Don’t worry there, guy.
I won’t scratch your precious car
.

Man, I
can’t even imagine how I’m going to put gas in my piece of junk for the rest of this week, much less how someone can actually afford a car like that. I am sure he has never once had to worry about car trouble. I can only imagine that my piece of junk and its failed attempts to start must disgust him. I pull onto the busy interstate and make my way back towards home. I need to hurry if I am going to make it in time to work the early lunch shift, and I desperately need the money right now. Happy Birthday? No, there is no more happy in this day for me. No more true happiness ever, really.

Sebastian

SHIT! Glancing over at the clock, I see its 3:49 am and once again, I wake up before my 5:00 am alarm. Sleep has never been my friend. Today is just more of the same. Disoriented, I turn my alarm off and get up to head to the bathroom. As I make my way across my penthouse bedroom, I step on a piece of red silk and recognize the panties from the girl I brought home the night before. Picking them up, I toss them into the trashcan beside the door. They are as disposable as the women that I frequently bring here. I never care to know their names, only what they can do for me. A couple of hours with them tops, and I send them on their way. Sure, I have a few fuck buddies that I call on from time to time, but they all know the drill. No strings, certainly no attachments, and absolutely NO overnight stays. I approach them as I do any business deal, only they negotiate on my terms and my terms only. Three things I love in this life: money, power, and fucking, all of which I am superb at doing.

I step in front of the mirror at the bathroom counter to splash
tepid water on my face. Gripping the cold Italian marble countertop, I stare at myself. When the world looks at me, they see Sebastian Thorne, CEO of Thorne Enterprises, a young and wildly wealthy bachelor, who takes the world by storm, and never backs down when he wants something. Never. But, when I look into the mirror, I don’t see that man. No, I see a coward, a man who has grown up in a life that he does not deserve. No one knows my secret. Since my father passed away, I am the only living soul who knows what happened that night. Yes, my father made damn certain of that when he covered up any evidence of the accident.

It was seven years today. Seven
long years and I still never know what to say once I stand before their grave. I have struggled to make peace with what I did that night, and I think that one day the words will come, and I’ll feel different. Like in some fucked-up way, I might be granted their forgiveness from beyond the grave. My dad never knew that I come here every year on this date. Hell, my dad never even thought of this day except to guilt me into doing something that he wanted. In some sick way, my humongous fuckup had sealed the deal for the ultimate blackmail between my father and me. Even in his death, I still hate the son of a bitch.

The
hour-long drive seems to drag, and I feel as heavy as the dark clouds that are forming up ahead. I have always gotten here early in the morning to avoid anyone seeing me, and in all the years I’ve come here, I have never seen another living soul. That is, until today. I pull around the gravel drive and notice an old red car parked on the side of the main road. Pulling up and parking behind the car, I grab the flowers from the seat beside me. The cold wind slams into my face when I exit. “Shit, it sure has gotten colder this morning,” I think to myself as I begin buttoning up my long overcoat.