Page 51 of Ruthless Legacy

His stony stare turns positively frosty. “You know nothing about my life. Don’t try to get inside my head, Scarlet. You won’t like what you find.” He places a brutal kiss on my lips before he yanks me away from the door and storms out of it. “I’ll be back in an hour. I have business to attend to.”

“Yeah, yeah. Run to Georgie and get her to suck you off!” I shout after him, wrapping my arms around myself and placing my hand to my lips. I slam my door shut and scream in frustration. God, he infuriates me. One minute he’s making me feel pure ecstasy, and the next he’s threatening to destroy me. I hate that I still want him. I angrily stomp to the ensuite, and strip off and climb under the showerhead. Fuck Archer Savage and the sports car he drove in on.

An hour later I’ve changed into my pyjamas and I’m sitting with Kit and Edith on the floor in the informal lounge, looking at old photo albums of my dad.

“Look at this one,” Kit says, laughing as he points to a particular photo in the album. It’s a photo of our dad dressed as a knight complete with a plastic sword. “Who is the little girl that is with him?”

“Oh, that is Libby Savage. Those two doted on each other. They were inseparable.”

“Savage,” I repeat, leaning in closer to look at the photo. I see a pair of dark brown eyes that remind me of the set that were burning into me earlier as he promised to break me.

“Yes, Libby was Archer’s mother,” Edith pauses and releases a sad sigh. “It is so sad to think that she is no longer with us.”

“Archer mentioned she died when he was eight,” I comment, hoping Edith will reveal more.

“It was a terrible thing. Her father found her. She’d jumped off the roof at the back of the house. That poor boy without a mother at such a young age.”

I look up from the photo, and look at Edith, taking in her teary expression. “She killed herself?”

Edith nods her head to me. “So very sad.”

I hear a door open and close and then Archer appears in the doorway. He pauses when he finds us all sitting on the floor. “What are you all doing?”

I slam the photo album shut. “Nothing. Just looking at old family photos.”

He bobs his head, looking from me to the photo albums spread out on the floor. He has an overnight bag thrown over his shoulder. “Is there a room made up for me, Edith?”

Edith collects the albums together. “There is. I’ve put fresh sheets on the bed in the room opposite Eliza’s. Now, who’d like cheese on toast for supper?”

Kit’s eyes flash up to hers and he grins. “Oh, Edith, you’re the best, you know that?”

Edith laughs at his enthusiastic reaction, and she places a hand on Archer’s hand as she passes him. “Are you having some?”

He smiles down at her in a way I’ve never seen him smile at anyone before. With genuine warmth and affection. “I’ll not say no to anything you cook, Edith.” He turns his attention to Kit. “Want to show me how good you are on FIFA?”

Kit’s eyes light up. “You’re on.” He jumps to his feet. “I’ll get the X-box set up in my room.” He speeds out of the room, leaving me alone with Archer.

“You’re going to play FIFA with my brother?” I ask in both surprise and sarcasm.

He leans against the door frame, hands in his pockets, and nods his head. He’s changed into navy joggers and a fitted grey sports jumper. Even dressed casually, he still looks like he’s stepped off of a photoshoot.

“You got a problem with that?” he challenges me.

I shake my head as I get to my feet. “Nope.”

“Good,” he says as he swivels and turns to leave the room. “Oh, and nice PJs. Snoopy is cute.”

I feel my cheeks flush red at his comment, and I look down at my pyjamas, suddenly feeling like I look like a silly little girl. I hate how he gets under my skin so easily.

Alone, I open the photo album back up and flip through some more pages. More photos of my dad and Libby and a few other children. Always the same group together and I realise that the blonde kids are likely Seb and Verity’s parents. The other boy is likely Rafe’s father. It’s strange to think that they all grew up together, and that their parents before them did the same. Like a tight-knit community. I run my finger over a photo of my dad and Libby; they look about fourteen and Libby is gazing up at my dad like he hung the moon. I can’t help but wonder if my dad and Libby became more than just friends at some point.

It’s strange seeing my dad as a young boy. Until now, I’ve never seen any photos of him as a boy. He really reminded me of Kit. He looked happy in these photos. He didn’t look like a boy who wanted to leave the life he had behind and never have any more contact with his family. I wish I could ask him why he turned his back on his family. Why he changed his surname and gave up this life of affluence. Surely there must be someone in this town that holds the answers. It is time to start digging into my father’s past.

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