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My dick twitches when she immediately turns all the way around on those stupid heels until she’s facing me.
“What?” she asks, her tone bored as if I’m wasting her time.
“Let’s get one thing straight here, Priss. I am not one of your little fucking minions. If you want me to help you, then you need to start speaking to me with some respect. I have never been disrespectful to you and I expect the same in return.”
Her lips part as shock flashes across her face. Has no one ever called her on her holier-than-thou attitude before? “I’m…” she stutters. “I’m sorry.”
“Okay then, let’s go,” I say, walking past her and toward the elevator.
“That’s it?” she asks, her voice unsure.
“That’s it. I told you that I wasn’t happy with you, I explained why and you apologized. So let’s go.” I press the elevator call button and a second later the doors slide open. Gesturing for her to go ahead, I watch as she walks forward, her heels clicking on the tile floor. “Do you need to get some clothes?”
“Everything I own is at my house and I don’t plan to go back there, so until the stores open I’m stuck with this,” she says, gesturing to her tight fitted dress, “or the pajama’s Tallulah lent me.”
“You kind of look like you’re doing the walk of shame, wearing that this time of the morning.” I say with a smirk.
Her eyes widen comically large. “I do not.”
“Priss, you’re in a tight dress and hooker heels at,” I look at my watch, “almost five-thirty in the morning, you look like you’re getting home from a hook up.”
Bringing both hands up to cover her face she shakes her head slowly. “Great,” she says, the word muffled.
“We’ll stop and find you something more casual to wear, don’t worry about it,” I say, not hiding the laughter in my voice.
“Where are we going to find a store open at this time in the morning?” she groans, separating her hands enough that I can hear her words.
“Easy, there’s a twenty-four-hour mall near the financial district, we’ll go there first, pick you up something to wear and grab some food, then go to the marina to talk.”
The elevator dings to tell us we’ve arrived in the lobby and I reach over and pry her hands free from her face. “Come on, let’s go get my car from the valet,” I say, keeping hold of one of her hands as I tow her along behind me.
Five minutes later we’re inside my Mercedes cruising along the quiet early morning streets of New York, in surprisingly comfortable silence. I don’t really know Carrigan beyond the fact that she’s set to inherit a fortune. I’ve never spent more than a couple of minutes alone with her before now. My family is rich but apparently not old money enough to have made it onto her great-grandfather’s wish list, so she’s never been forced on me the way she has with Arlo.
Until recently I’d considered her to be a heartless, evil bitch and despite her behavior in the last few weeks, I’ve haven’t seen anything that’s really changed my opinion of her. For years she’s helped her parents hide and enslave Tally, forcing her to give up her own identity so she could pretend to be Carrigan and get her through high school with that all important GPA.
I get that in the world we live in money is important, but fucking hell we’re all loaded. My family own an island for fuck’s sake. No one ever even goes there, but in the realms of the rich and uber rich owning your own island is a serious boasting point. If we were all poor, I think I could maybe understand the Archibald’s single-minded pursuit of this inheritance and Carrigan’s willingness to be completely controlled by a dead man’s rules. But we’re not poor, and for me that’s what makes her behavior inexcusable.
Tally is convinced that Carrigan is as much a pawn in their parents’ game as she was, but given everything her sister has done in the last few years I think this is all just wishful thinking on her part. She wants her sister to be redeemable and I can understand that, but I don’t think she should overlook everything Carrigan’s done so easily.
Glancing at the girl beside me, I try to see what Tally sees. I try to consider that just like they manipulated Tally with guilt, they manipulated Carrigan too. I suppose it could be true. The girl’s parents are definitely twisted enough to do it. Hell, they tried to drug Arlo so Carrigan could have sex with him and try to get pregnant, all while they recorded it so they could blackmail him if it didn’t work.
“Why did you do it?” I ask her, unable to keep the question in any longer.
“What?”
“Why did you fuck Tally over like that? She’s your twin sister.”
When she doesn’t speak I look over to her, she’s staring straight ahead, her jaw firm, lips pursed. “Priss I asked you a question.”
“Why do you keep calling me Priss?” she demands, swinging her face in my direction. “I have a name.”
“I know what your name is, Carrigan,” I say, enunciating her name sarcastically. “But I think Priss suits you better.”
“You’re a dick,” she hisses, turning back to look out the windscreen again.
“I may be a dick, but you still haven’t answered my question.”
She sighs and the sound is pained. “It doesn’t matter why I did it, I know what you all think of me.”
