Thorns and Forgiveness (Twisted Legacy Duet, #2)

by Coralee June

I love you unconditionally, bro, but even I think it’s shitty. I thought we were going out for a couple drinks so you could get your head on straight and figure out how to get Vera back. I didn’t realize you’d go on a full fucking bender. And put some clothes on, I’m tired of your elephant dick staring at me.”

Even if we somehow moved past this, I knew I would just hurt her again. I was too fucked up to make this work. Eventually, I’d become just like Lilah, abusing the privilege of Vera’s gentle, unconditional love for the sake of my own ego and selfish needs.

Apologize, do better, and move on with your motherfucking life. She’s Sycamore Tree, Hamilton.

Sure, I could probably win Vera back. My girl was sympathetic, empathetic, compassionate, and loving. Her heart was an endless well the rest of the world liked to drink from.

Joseph needed an outlet for his insanity, and I was his own personal punching bag. My mother couldn’t protect me, and my father didn’t care.

My father taught me that we were all born with hearts made of glass. Delicate, murderous little tools pounding in our chests. I just needed to take some time and toughen it up with a bit of fire and agony. After all, I was a Beauregard. And Beauregards didn’t suffer from empathy, remorse, and guilt. We stepped barefoot on the shattered shards like little psychopaths, proving to the world that we didn’t need pretty emotions to survive.

I’ve always been the person fighting for the relationships in my life. Just once, I wanted someone to fight for me.

“Fuck yeah, you’re mistaken. Don’t call me again. I don’t want your forgiveness. I don’t need your used-up pussy, either.”

“Let me be very clear, baby,” Hamilton said in a sinister tone. “I don’t like you. I barely even wanted you. I used you up, little rose. Now there’s nothing left but the stem, and I’ve got no use for thorns. But hey,” he added as I nearly crumbled from the pain, “thanks for the pussy. It was fun while it lasted.”

My girl. My fucking girl. Mine to protect. Mine to fuck. Mine to love. Mine to keep away from all the bullshit of the Beauregard name. My possessiveness needed to take the back seat, but I refused to let this family ruin her like it did me.

I never imagined that Jack would use Vera to get whatever he wanted from me. And that was the fucked-up part about all of this: I would do anything. Anyfuckingthing. I would sell my soul to the devil and sit alongside Jack if it meant keeping her safe.

I couldn’t even begin to tell you why I still cared for this man—why I ached for him in such a devastating way. Was I just a pathetic girl pining for an unattainable man?

It would always be there. Always remind me of the vengeful enemy that got the last word. But, God, my heart still beat for him. Every pounding hit of my pulse was a painful reminder that I loved this man.

It was a privilege to kiss Hamilton Beauregard. It wasn’t wholesome, like the tender moments shared between two lovers. It wasn’t kind or polite. Kissing him was like a glorious apology. A physical manifestation of the truth budding between us. Sweeping tongues. Crashing teeth. Sucking. Groaning. He tugged on my lip. I pulled at his soul.

“Maybe I don’t want to forget. And you don’t clear my mind, you take it over completely,” I admitted. “When it’s you and me, I can’t think of anything else…”

“You’re pushing me away, and I don’t know why. But I do know that it’s not my job to chase after you. I’ve spent my entire life begging to be loved. And you know what? You made me realize that it’s not enough. I could have loved you, Hamilton. Fiercely.”

“I want you to live your life, Petal. I want you to be happy without me.”

“I bet you’re drenched. You still want me. Even when I hurt you, your pussy aches for me.” Shame filled me. This was some sick kink for Hamilton. He liked knowing he could still have my body after destroying my heart. I raged.

With him fully inside me, he groaned low and slow. I bent over to whisper in his ear. “Enjoy it while you can, because I’m done.”

“I just want you to be happy, Petal. And I’m not capable of doing that.” Then, he walked out of my bedroom. He walked out of the front door. And he walked out of my life.

Love was like a pendulum, and I kept going back and forth, always stuck, never actually going anywhere.

In the moment, I convinced myself that it was all to protect my mother. I pretended like it was some grand sacrifice, some sick satisfaction. Just one last goodbye. But I didn’t do it for my mother. I let Hamilton use me up because I was addicted to him.

I hated the power he held over me. Hell, I hated how much power everyone seemed to hold over me. I let him take over my mind, my body, and my ability to function. I let my mother’s happiness and safety supersede my own. And for what?

She wasn’t completely innocent, and she absolutely dug her own grave by lying about the pregnancy, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t sympathize with her pain. Heartbreak was something that bonded us, ironically.

No. Not today. Not anymore.

This is the first moment I truly see her strength and I’m FOR IT

“You don’t care about me at all, you selfish little bitch,” Mom spat. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, Lilah!” I yelled before clasping my hand over my mouth in disbelief.

Yesssssss

I wasn’t a Beauregard. I wasn’t Lilah’s daughter. I wasn’t a fucking Rose or Petal or anything. I was my own motherfucking person, and nobody was going to fuck with me ever again.

“He did. Hamilton is always destructive, but this is next level.” Jack went to the mini fridge and found a bottle of water, tossing it at my head. I let it hit me because I had a part to play. Method acting and all of that. “For fuck’s sake, Hamilton, sober up.” I reached for the bottle now lying on the floor and toppled over out of my chair. Give me the motherfucking Oscar.

This entire scene is making me laugh

“People can only make your life hell if you let them, Hamilton. Beat him at his own game, and you’ll never have to deal with him again.”

Landlords can easily kick you out. Bosses can fire you. Parents can disappoint you. Humans are…tricky. And craving control over your own destiny is understandable. But it’s also important to note that we can choose who we owe.”

“How would you like to owe me, Miss Garner? The way I see it, you have nowhere to stay. Four weeks left in the semester, and a lot of work to do in order to get into your new college. You can spend your time trying to survive, or you can owe me one.”

How could this kindness from a woman I barely knew feel so much more meaningful than things given to me by my own mother? Because it was pure. Because there wasn’t an ulterior motive.

“A lot of people have this picture-perfect idea of what it means to have a family; it makes reality a much harder pill to swallow,” Anika began.

“One of my favorite philosophers is Ludwig Josef Johann Wittgenstein. Brilliant man, if not a little twisted. He said my favorite line. ‘Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent.’” Anika looked down at the phone in my hand. “Wittgenstein explored the concept that there are limits to language. There are many things that can’t effectively be said. Some things have to be shown, Vera.”

I hated the way my father equated success to being a Beauregard. It was like he wanted to somehow take credit for Vera’s hard work.

“Your first few days on the job seem to be going well. Have you learned anything?” “I learned that you waste a fuck ton of money on pointless things,” I replied. Jack laughed. “Like what?” “You just purchased an office space with an arcade for your employees,” I huffed with a scoff.

“Want to make your employees happy, Jack? Use that money to extend maternity and paternity leave and offer better health insurance.” Despite benefiting from it my entire life, I hated capitalism. “You have incredible wealth, and some of your employees are living just above the poverty line, Jack. You’re a politician, sworn to serve the public, and yet you cash in on crazy profits without redistributing the wealth to your loyal workers.”

“It feels like you dropped me off at a burning building, Jack. You have more ethical problems than just your psychotic son. It’s pretty shitty that you’re barely following laws that you helped sign off on.”

Pretty soon, Vera won’t need me anymore, and I won’t have to keep tabs on her.” “Too bad love doesn’t work like that,” Jack mused in a soft voice. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” “You’re always going to find things she needs, Hamilton.”

My brother had been traveling quite a bit lately. Joseph wasn’t in the habit of going out of his way for pussy. Flying across the country on the regular to get laid wasn’t exactly his MO. But for money? Power? My brother would do anything for that.

Maybe I was a fucking stalker. I didn’t care. Vera deserved better than what she got, and I respected her need for independence. I didn’t want her tied to the Beauregards any more than I was.

I was in this for the long haul. Save Vera. Protect Jess. End Joseph’s nasty reign over our family. Easy enough.

“So, let’s discuss healthy boundaries before you go. Tell me your mantra again.” “I am not responsible for how other people act,” I recited. Anika was on board for me going—if anything, just to ease my plaguing mind about Hamilton and what he was up to. “Now, tell me you’re safe.” “I’m safe,” I repeated while grabbing my purse. “Tell me you can leave at any time you wish.” “I can leave anytime I wish.”

I LOVE Anika

Sometimes people don’t realize that you have to put in the work. It’s not just enough to tell someone off, then cut them out of your life. Sometimes you have to fight that daily fight, you know? You have to work on yourself still.”

Seeing him was devastating. It was like looking at a stranger but also gazing into the eyes of a soul I knew intimately. It hurt to see him, but it excited me too. I couldn’t get my body to process how to respond to the pain and utter delight.

Could I handle a day of sitting at the same table as the man that both broke me and built me up?

Because despite the way you treat me, and leave me, and hurt me, I fucking love the idea of you loving me back.”

And then—she fucking slapped me away, like I was a dog trying to eat her steak dinner. “Back the fuck off, Hamilton Beauregard. You hurt me.”

“You hurt me too, you know,” I countered. Her brows raised. “Is that really how you want to play it?” she asked, challenging me even more. Fuck yes, Vera. Call me on my shit.

Loving Vera was an inevitable consequence of knowing her. It was impossible to stay away. I just needed a little more time. I wanted to build a life for us that was safe and free of my bullshit with Joseph and my resentment of Jack.