Sweet Retribution (Rydeville High Elite #3)(93)
Everything is lined up, and we’ve gone over our plans excessively, trying to second-guess all obstacles and things that can go wrong. It’s a rock-solid plan, but I still haven’t been able to eat or sleep for the past week.
Everything hinges on tomorrow, and I’m beyond anxious.
Charlie’s hand clamps down on my quivering thigh as we ride in a limo from the private airfield in Wyoming to Parkhurst. This is my first time in the main facility, and having to sleep there overnight, in a room with Charlie, is making me all kinds of nervous. It helps that Drew and Shandra are traveling with us now and staying in the hotel suite next to ours. And Kai and Rick will be staying there too. Xavier, Sawyer, Jackson, and the security detail who have been our perpetual shadows these past few months are staying in a house we’ve rented a couple miles away.
Everything needs to be timed to perfection tomorrow so the fireworks go off in the sequence we’ve planned, and even one minor hiccup could really screw things up. Which is why I’m so on edge.
Failure is not an option, but success isn’t guaranteed either.
“Relax,” Charlie says. “Your constant leg jerking is driving me nuts.”
“Do you blame me for being nervous?” I ask, arching a brow. “Or have you forgotten what they did to me the last time I was here? And what they tried to do to me the last time there was a big elite event?”
“Of course not.” His features soften momentarily. “And I will never forget that night as long as I live.” His customary blank expression is back on his face, and while he’s not giving much away, his brief thawing is the first hint that he’s not completely immune to me after all.
“Things are different now,” Drew says from his seat across from me. “And no one would dare try anything like that this weekend.” We both know that’s bullshit, but we’ve just got to get through tonight, and then the balance of power should shift.
If everything goes to plan.
If it doesn’t, it’ll be a free-for-all, and I shudder to think what punishments will be meted out if we fail in our mission.
Shoving those hideous thoughts aside, I focus on my brother. He’s holding Shandra’s hand and she’s leaning into him, admiring the sharp line of his jaw. I’ve watched them grow closer these past few months with a little unease. Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad Drew isn’t with that witch Alessandra anymore, but it’s hard seeing him looking all loved up with someone who isn’t Jane.
Even if it’s for show.
Which I think it is.
And even if Shandra has become a good friend.
“What time does the engagement party start at?” Shandra asks.
“The invite said eight,” I confirm, glancing out the window as the landscape flashes past in a blur.
“And who will be there?” she asks, looking at Drew.
“All the high-ranking elite, including the council members and their wives and any children who are members,” he says.
“It will be boring as fuck,” Charlie says. “Especially for you,” he adds, staring at me coldly. “I can’t imagine how torturous it must be being forced to keep my company instead of his.”
“Don’t do that, Charlie.”
“Why the hell not, Abigail?”
“Because this weekend will be hell if you’re going to act like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum.” I deliberately lower my voice even though the privacy screen is up, and the sound is muted back here. I’m not taking chances. “You know I’m with him now, and I’ve tried to talk to you on several occasions about our situation, but you haven’t wanted to know.”
“Because I was fucking hurt and dealing with a ton of shit,” he hisses.
“This is hardly the ideal time for a heart to heart,” Drew calmly says, shooting him a warning look. “I’m sure Abby will have no issue talking it out with you when we get back to Rydeville, but discussing it at Parkhurst is risky for everyone, especially my sister.” His eyes stick to Charlie’s. “Unless you’ve decided you don’t care for her at all anymore, and that her safety doesn’t matter to you now, and if that’s the case, you and I have a big problem, buddy.”
A muscle pops in Charlie’s jaw as he turns his head, staring out the window, refusing to reply, and avoiding all further conversation.
It doesn’t exactly leave me feeling all warm and cozy.
My gut balls into tight knots when we arrive, and Charlie helps me out of the car, keeping a firm hold of my hand as we walk up the steps toward the entrance.
It’s not at all what I was expecting.
I thought it would be an old-fashioned building with an old-world grand interior to match, but it’s a modern build, five stories high, composed of cream Italian stone with high windows. Glass balconies surround the exterior of the residential quarters which are located on the third, fourth, and fifth floors.
Inside, the lobby is a large open-plan rectangular shape with gray and pink velvet couches and chairs dotted around the bright, airy space. Overhead, massive chandeliers shine incandescent light on the room below, highlighting the expensive vases filled with scented in-season blooms and the exquisite artwork adorning the walls.
Charlie walks us to the reception desk, and we’re greeted by a tall, thin older woman with dark reddish-brown hair. “Mr. Barron.” She smiles warmly at Charlie, deliberately touching his hand as she passes a pen and card to him to sign. “How lovely to see you again.”