White Lies (Book 1)

Chapter 28

Chapter 28

I'd never seen Nathan move so quickly.

He was like a raging, thunderous, redheaded tornado – moving like lighting in all sorts of directions, turning sharply at every turn. In a matter of seconds, a bag was zipped wide open in the middle of his bed. Nathan quickly began filling it with clothes.

"Wait a second. Are you running away?" I exclaimed, jumping up to try and stop him.

After Nathan had stormed off from that disastrous meeting, I'd rushed out after him in a blind daze. James tried to follow after his little brother, before quickly thinking better of it. The last image I had of James – his hesitation at the top of Angelica's winding staircase, his anguished expression – stayed with me well after I had made it outside.

When it came to his father, it seemed as if Nathan had quite a ferocious temper.

But I didn't blame him. If I had been given the news that my entire family was going bankrupt over a certain socialite who had been blackmailing my father to keep quiet about her illegitimate pregnancy – which had resulted due to a quick five-minute fuck in the bathroom stall, at a charity event hosted by my mother in her own home...

It was a lot. And I would have lost it just as badly.

Nathan, who was currently very intent on stuffing as much of his life into his opened duffel bag as he possibly could.

"Yes," his voice was hard and ragged, as if he were barely keeping himself together.

I didn't know what to do – whether I should run away or crush Nathan to my chest.

I walked over to him, blocking his direct path to the overflowing bag, demanding that he give me his attention. Needing him to look at me, to focus on my voice.

"Nate, stop," I ordered, forcing him to meet my gaze. His body was tense, trembling with an inner, unresolved rage. Rage against his father, against Aurora, against the people in that room who had confirmed his very worst nightmare. His blue eyes were wide and skittish, moving to all the different parts of the room. A cornered, injured animal trying to look for his escape.

Carefully, I placed my hands on both his shoulders. The top of my head just reached his nose, and I had to tilt my head up slightly for our eyes to meet. He flinched at my touch, glaring at my efforts to slow him down.

"I want to kill him, Jess," he seethed, staring unseeingly into my face. "I want him to pay for everything he's done to my mother."

"I know you do," I soothed, not knowing how to do this. Feeling grossly inadequate. I settled for resting my hands against his biceps, rubbing slowly, soothing him with touch. "But you can't make these decisions when you're not thinking rationally–"

"Rationally? Okay, you want me to be rational?" he bit back, grabbing onto me and pulling me towards him. He wanted me to know – to see. What little shaky control he had over his emotions snapped, his beautiful face twisting angrily; rage, hurt, resentment, contempt.

This was a side of him that I had never, ever seen before.

"Do you have any idea what that fucker's put my family through? For years, he's been leaving a trail of affairs and dried-out bank accounts, moving on to his next cheap thrill, leaving his messes for my mother to clean up and salvage. Do you know how many nights she's spent crying herself sick, desperate to leave this earth? Wanting it all to stop? The amount of times she's tried to commit suicide? Did you know that James has had to postpone his wedding four times, so that he could stay here and make sure she didn't try and finish the job?" Hot, angry tears started were running down his face.