Page 112 of The Rivals' Touch

“I wasn’t lying. He wants to know where I am. What do you expect me to do? I look like I’ve been through ten rounds in a boxing ring.”

My father releases me and wrings the steering wheel as he checks his mirrors. “He’s trouble, that boy! You’re not to talk to him again!”

“We live together, Dad. You’re asking the impossible!”

He looks at me. “I wasn’t asking!”

We drive the rest of the way in silence. My father doesn’t speak until we pull up outside Bennett’s house. It used to be my second home before the move to Aycliffe, but as I look up at the white, two-story house, my stomach twists with unease.

“Remember what we discussed,” my father says, cutting the engine. “This business deal is important.”

I tear my eyes away from the open window on the second floor. It’s Bennett’s room. “I haven’t forgotten.”

“Good!” Inspecting my bruises, he cups my chin and turns my face left and right. “You did a good job. The marks are barely visible.”

He lets go of me, opens the door, and steps outside. My hands tremble as I exit the car and join him on the porch, watching him press the doorbell. While we wait, he readjusts his cufflinks. I try not to fidget, but it’s impossible. I’m nervous. For a moment, I long for the old days when I was blissfully unaware, back when Bennett was all I saw.

“Stop hunching!” my father orders.

Footsteps echo on the other side, and the door opens just as I straighten up and tug my too-short skirt down.

“Mr. Burke,” Bennett’s father beams and steps aside. “Bennett is still at school but should be back shortly.”

Hand on my back, my father guides me forward. I walk obediently despite my instincts telling me I’m stepping into the lion’s den.

“Remi, why don’t you go upstairs to Bennett’s room while I talk business with your father,” Mr. Beaufort tells me.

They walk off before I have a chance to answer.

“Great!” I mutter, sliding my hand along the railing on my way upstairs. It’s strange, being back here in Bennett’s house. I used to come here almost every day, but it feels foreign to me now, as though I’m looking at it through different eyes. It’s cold and unwelcoming. No grandeur can hide the evil lurking within these walls.

Too besotted with Bennett and his sparkling smile, I was blind to it for years.

I open Bennett’s door, walk in, and take a seat on the edge of his made bed. The last time I was here, it had navy blue sheets. Now they’re dark gray, and so are the curtains and the rug on the laminate flooring. There’s a picture of us on the nightstand from our first formal dinner. Bennett’s mother kept fussing with his tie. The following year, his mom and dad divorced.

I don’t have my phone on me, so it feels like forever while I sit and wait for Bennett to return home from school. I could switch on the TV, but I don’t want to make myself too comfortable. Bennett’s room is always tidy to the point where it feels like you would mess it up with your mere presence if you moved. But today, something is out of the ordinary. I can’t put my finger on it, and it bugs me.

I’m still trying to figure it out when his bedroom door opens.

“Hi.” Bennett shuts the door and drops his bag on the floor.

Before moving to Aycliffe, my heart would start pounding with excitement at seeing him. Now it begins racing for entirely different reasons.

Hands in his pockets, he looks at me and frowns. “Don’t I get a ‘hi’ back at least?”

“Hi.”

He walks past me, grabs the remote, and turns on the TV. The bed dips when he sits down next to me and starts channel hopping. Meanwhile, I study his profile. Why did I ever fall for him? He’s attractive with his unruly dirty-blonde hair and blue eyes that sparkle when he smiles. Still, there’s an air of arrogance about him that I didn’t notice before.

Entitlement.

“See something you like?” he asks, an amused smile hovering on his lips.

I bite back the urge to snort as I bring my attention to the TV. Bennett has settled for a 90’s movie. “What are our fathers discussing?”

He shrugs and leans forward, elbows on knees. “I don’t know. Can’t say I care much.”

I look away from the TV. “You’re being forced to marry me as much as I’m being forced to marry you. You must care?”

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