Page 6 of Filthy Beautiful
And that was a good thing, right?
I walked back into the poolhouse and shut the door; my best friend’s guesthouse. And I told myself that if his little sister hated me now, because of what went down between us tonight, it was a very fucking good thing.
Let her hate you.
It’ll be better this way.
Chapter One
Courteney
Three weeks later…
Ipulled into my brother’s driveway, using my remote to open the big iron gate and close it behind my car again.
Then I drove up the long drive, which curved through the big, private yard. The mansion was surrounded by trees. You couldn’t even see it from the street, but it was gorgeous. Taupe stone with ivy vines winding up the walls, and big windows along the front. It was newish, maybe fifteen years old, but looked old and fused with the landscape, like it had always been here and always would be.
I loved this place.
I loved my big brother… so much. Too much, probably. It was the kind of love that would suck you right into a black hole if you let it.
That’s how it always felt, driving up my brother’s driveway; like I was circling the edge of a black hole.
I parked my car in front of the closed three-car garage. It was a new BMW convertible, Seaside Blue Metallic. My brother had bought it for me just six months ago, as a gift for my eighteenth birthday. He was incredibly generous like that—at least, he was with me.
I had a bunch of bags and boxes of my things in the back, but I grabbed the gift bag, the takeout coffee and my purse, and left the rest in the car for now. There was really no hurry.
It was late Monday morning, and I’d taken my time getting here. Cary had told me to show up “whenever.”
So far, my brother was a pretty nice boss.
I’d expect no different from him.
As I walked slowly up to the house, I took a moment to indulge in my recurring, ridiculous fantasy. I allowed myself to envision my brother opening the front door. He’d smile at me, his face lighting up the way it used to… so long ago, I was afraid of actually losing the memory. Forgetting what he looked like when he used to look at me like that.
When he used to look at the world like that.
The sun was shimmering down between the leafy trees and birds were chirping. The yard smelled of fresh, green, flowery things, so full of life, and for just that moment, it felt possible—that my brother might actually come to his own front door, in his own house.
For the first time in four long years.
Then the fantasy crumbled.
I knocked on the door, rang the bell… and no one answered. I used my key to open the door and let myself in. Then I disabled the alarm and made sure the door was locked behind me.
It was quiet as a crypt in the house, but I knew my brother was home. And I knew where he’d be.
Where he always was.
I headed into the kitchen, where I found a note from his part-time housekeeper on the fridge for me.
Dear Courteney,
I’ve made up your room for you. Please let me know if you need anything else.
Love, Rose.
I smiled and tucked the note in my purse. Rose had always been sweet to me, but I wouldn’t be bothering her for anything. Her time was her own when she left this house. I could clean up after myself when she wasn’t here.
