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We aren’t cordial conversations and polite interludes. Any therapist would race for the door if we let them see even a fraction of our shit. We’re a fire that burns everything it touches, pleasure and pain wrapped up so tight that it is impossible to pull them apart.
I’ve let her forget who the fuck we are.
Both of us are in need of a reminder.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Leaving the hot tub is a mistake.
I end up walking right into Olivia and her crowd of flying monkeys. Drake’s sudden reversal still has me off-kilter, so I don’t notice them until it’s too late. It’s hard to remember why I’m supposed to be mad at him while he is groping me in the hot tub.
“Oh my God, did you get tattoos to match your sister? That’s pathetic.”
For a second, I don’t realize Serena is talking to me, but I should have figured out sooner from the derisive tone in her voice. I turn to see the entire group staring at me, most of them openly laughing.
My sister’s smile is indulgent as she spares me a brief glance before looking away. “Our nanny dressed us the same for a little too long. Poor Olivia never got over it. At least we’re not living together, so I don’t have to worry about her stealing from my closet.”
“I guess everyone wants a twin until they have one,” Maisie adds as I pass her.
With a spurt of annoyance at myself, I realize it hadn’t occurred to me to cover up my tattoos. I’d stopped applying the heavy stage makeup when the weather turned cold, but in a bathing suit all the tattoos are on display, not even just the little hints visible when I wear a t-shirt. None of them would have any reason to think I’m inked.
Until now.
It should have occurred to me that people would immediately assume that my tattoos were a copy, instead of it actually being the other way around. Between my new hair color and now this, Olivia has firmly established herself as the dominant one.
Fake Evangeline: 2
Real Olivia: 0
I only have eyes for Olivia, who watches me approach with a smirk on her face. I don’t have an explanation for why this is the last straw, the last insult before I burst like an over-inflated balloon. Maybe it’s the fact that this grade school bullying act is getting more than a little tired. More likely, it’s because she has the nerve to steal my damn tattoos and then let everyone think I’m the copycat. My ink is special. Sometimes I paid my artist instead of buying food. She has no idea what she is stealing from me by taking credit for them.
I just can’t ignore this.
“You look tired, sis,” Olivia says as I stop within a foot of her, close enough that she can’t just ignore me. “I’d offer you a seat, but they’re all taken.”
“Would you? That’s sweet.” I raise a mocking eyebrow even though my voice stays even. “Because I could have sworn that you didn’t particularly want me around.”
Olivia doesn’t so much as blink. “I’m just being sisterly, sort of like you were in the old days. Of course, if you have better places to be then you can always leave.”
She puts enough emphasis on the word leave that I know she isn’t talking about just the hotel.
I gesture with my chin toward the small tattoo just under her collarbone. “Remind me about the story behind your orchids. You got those after your first boyfriend dumped you for a redhead, right?”
Her lips thin for a flashing moment, brief evidence that my barb struck its mark. She had the biggest crush on one of our neighbors when we were kids, a boy who played hockey with his friends on the street visible from her bedroom window. She never worked up the nerve to talk to him, but that didn’t stop her from being devastated when he started spending time with a pretty girl who lived nearby.
“They’re just pretty pictures.” Olivia replies with a shrug. “Only a total headcase thinks every tattoo needs to be super meaningful.”
I really want to punch that smug expression off her face.
“My uncle loved Tweety Bird when he was young, but he really regretted getting one tattooed on his chest when he joined the Navy.” Serena’s tone is mocking, even if it’s not clear that she knows why everyone is laughing.. She just wants to be involved. “It looked ridiculous after he got fat.”
“Did you need something?” Maisie asks, sounding bored.
Ignoring the snickers, I keep my gaze locked on Olivia’s face.
I want to demand an explanation from her. I want to force her to tell me, with all these assholes to witness it, why she seems so determined to torture me. Maybe I inadvertently made a bigger mess of things, but I only came here for her…to defend the honor that I thought she cared about. This isn’t about the past or the things she blames me for. Something else has to be going on.
But the look in her eyes makes me swallow the angry words.
