Brothers of Paradise Series

Red Hot Rebel C67



“All good,” she tells her husband and perches on the armrest of his chair. “Now, if you’re all ready, I’m planning to crush you in cards.”

Her brothers groan at that, but Faye and Hayden laugh. “It is her turn,” her husband adds.

“And I’m in a crushing mood,” Lily declares.

She wins two of the four rounds, in the end, so she is declared the winner. Rhys wins the other and Faye the final, raising her non-alcoholic mojito high.

They wave us goodbye and toss see you laters over their shoulders when Rhys and I leave, the night sky dark above us. They’d given me more than a few curious glances, but no one had asked about our relationship outright. I wonder if they’d not dared to, or if he’d instructed them not to.

My eyelids feel heavy with sleep and my bones loose with the drink, but I’m not ready to go to sleep yet. No, not when the waves crashing against the beach beckon.

Rhys laughs when I tell him. “You’ve had too much champagne.”

“And you’ve had too much whiskey. See? We can all make pointless accusations.” I pull him across the street and onto the beach, pulling off my shoes and sinking my feet into the cool sand. The waves lap against the shore like a lover’s touch, the summer air warm against my skin.

This town is aptly named.

Yet another place I’ve now seen, even if it isn’t as far away as Kenya or Australia. But watching the full moon above us and listening to the ocean close by, I’m not sure it’s any less impressive because it’s close to home.

I sink down into the sand cross-legged. “Come on,” I tell him. “Sit with me.”

He sinks down without protest, long legs stretched out in front of him and his feet in a pair of worn boat shoes. “Not a desert in Kenya,” he comments.

“Close enough,” I say and let a handful of sand trickle down my fingers. “Your entire family is great. I get how you can be adventurous and travel, when you have this to come back to.”

“I’ve recently come to that realization as well.” He lies back on the sand, looking up at the sky. “The stars are out. Remember the ones we saw in Kenya?”

“Yes.” I settle down beside him. “All the constellations I’d never seen before.”

He hums. “I’ve always loved watching the stars.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever really done it enough.” The sand is soft beneath me and I bury my feet in it, rearranging my head to fit better. I’ll have to wash my hair later, but not for all in the world would I let it stop me.

“You’ve surprised me, you know.”

“I have?”

Rhys’s voice deepens. “Yes. Coming here with me. Spending time with my family. And through it all, you haven’t complained once.”

“Of course I haven’t. What kind of friend would I be if I did?”

There’s a smile in his voice. “You’d be a normal person, Ivy, in the normal world. Very few are willing to give something up for others.”

I frown up at the night sky. “That’s not the kind of normal world I want to be a part of.”

“So I’ve learnt.” He reaches up and in a move that’s so him it makes my heart ache, he tucks an arm underneath his head. “Thank you for talking me into coming this weekend.”

I swallow. “I spoke to your father tonight.”

“Did you?” He doesn’t sound surprised.

“Yes. When you were off with your brothers.”

“And what was your impression?”

“He seemed to enjoy hearing news about you,” I tell him. “Everything I said, about our trip, your photography, even sailing, he wanted to hear.”

There’s skepticism in his silence, so I ask him. The drinks have loosened all kinds of inhibitions. “What is it between you?”

Rhys is quiet for a long while, stretched out beside me to watch the stars. But then he speaks. “I learned early on that most people are only looking out for themselves, and my father was always the prime example. He cared for status and prestige when it benefitted him, seeing money as a token of worth and his children as prize ponies. Our accomplishments mattered a great deal to him, as did how they reflected on him.”

I’m afraid to turn my head to look at him, lest these words stop. So I give a nod. “I see.”

“As soon as I got that, I also realized that the opposite was true. He took every misstep, every rumor, every failed test as an insult. He believed it made him look worse,” Rhys says, shaking his head. “I abused that knowledge for years. I’d receive an F on a paper and feel nothing but vindictive delight. Teachers would ask a question I’d know the answer to and I’d give them the wrong one, just because. The more outrageous the better.”

“To shock them?”

“I suppose, yes. Every expectation, I’ve hated. Tried to subvert.” Rhys is quiet for a beat. “Until college.”

“Yale?”

“Yes. You didn’t see it, but there are four diplomas hanging in their house. One for each of my siblings from Yale. And above it, my dad’s diploma.”

“But none for you?”

“No,” he says.

The silence stretches again, but it’s not heavy. I rest my hands on my stomach and close my eyes. “Seems like it would be the place for you. I can see you in sweater vests, sitting on a windowsill reading Faulkner amongst ivy-covered brick.”

The joke releases tension, and he chuckles beside me. “I would never wear a sweater vest.”

“A checkered blazer?”

“Perhaps.” He sighs, soft as the waves that assail the shore. “During my second year, my little sister was in a car accident.”

“Lily?”

“Yes. That’s why she has that faint limp, now. She was in the hospital for… well.” Rhys clears his throat. “It changed things for all of us, in different ways. Her husband was the one who drove the car.”

“Oh, God.”

“He left and broke my sister’s heart. I hated him for years, for that, even though I know my parents had pushed him toward the decision. My father, more specifically.”

I wet my lips. “Oh.”Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

“She lay in bed for months healing, in pain in more ways than one over Hayden’s sudden disappearance. And all my father said was how happy he was that the boy was out of our lives and that she’d be returning to Yale.

“It all collapsed for me then. Why should I play to his rules, his vanity? When it drove my siblings to tears, to frustration, to pain? If I could, I’d be the complete opposite. Stop doing it in half-measures and commit. So I dropped out.” He gives a self-deprecating laugh. “I committed myself thoroughly to debauchery for a while, Ivy. Traveling as far away from Paradise Shores and my brothers’ ambition as I could. Far from the reach of my father. Went months without touching my trust fund, seeing how long I could do without his money.”


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