My Fault (Culpable Book 1)

As soon as Nick left, I sat on my bed to catch my breath. Races… That was my weak spot all right. It was one of the few things I’d inherited from my father, one of the few things I had enjoyed doing with him. I remembered sitting on the floor at his feet watching NASCAR on TV. My father had been one of the best drivers of his generation, until everything went bad.

I could see my mother’s face when she forbid me from ever returning to that world—fast cars, races. At just ten years old, I’d known everything there was to know about driving, and when my legs were long enough to reach the pedals, my father had let me drive with him. It was one of the most incredible experiences of my life. I could still remember the euphoria of pure speed, the sand clinging to the windshield, getting in the car, the squeal of the tires—above all, the peace of mind it gave me. Racing meant nothing else mattered. We were alone, the car and me. No one else.

But that was then. My mother had since told me in no uncertain terms to stay away from racing, and I had to accept that, regardless of how much I missed it.

I sighed, got up, and grabbed my phone, which wouldn’t stop vibrating. My friends didn’t seem to miss me. They were going to another party that night, and they didn’t seem to realize I was still in the group chat, able to read all the details about who and where and how much everybody was planning to drink.

I was sad but also irritated. Dan still hadn’t called me. I was longing to hear his voice, to talk the way we’d talked before I left, for hours and hours. Why wouldn’t he call me? Had he forgotten about me?

With these thoughts, I left my room and found my mother and Will in the vestibule. He was wearing a tux and looked like a Hollywood actor with his elegant bearing, which, sadly, his son had inherited. I had to admit that when I’d seen Nick in his black suit and white shirt, it had been hard not to stare or snap a photo. He was beyond handsome, but that was the only positive thing about him. The race, though, that had surprised me. So we had more in common than just a tattoo.

My mother was dazzling. All eyes would be on her that night and rightly so.

“Noah, you’re gorgeous,” she said, beaming, but whatever, she was my mom, I would always be pretty to her.

Will looked me over and furrowed his brow, making me immediately uncomfortable.

“Is something up?” I asked, surprised and annoyed. Surely he wasn’t going to tell me to cover up. One thing would be if it was me thinking it, but him? I didn’t know what I’d say back. But then his face relaxed.

“Au contraire, you look stunning!”

“Just one little touch-up,” my mother said, digging through her bag, pulling out a small bottle, and spraying my bare shoulders and neckline. “Now you’ll make an even better impression.”

Whatever. My mother thought I was still a little girl in pigtails, as Nicholas put it.

We went outside, where a sparkling limousine was waiting for us. I was surprised but at the same time fed up. I don’t know why it surprised me—what else should I expect?—but still, I couldn’t get used to this fancy lifestyle.

Will and my mom poured themselves glasses of champagne and, to my surprise, offered me one, which I accepted with pleasure, drank in one gulp, and refilled before they could realize it. If I wanted to get through the night, those wouldn’t be the last ones I had.

Nicholas had already left. I envied his freedom to come and go and do as he pleased. I would have to get a job soon if I expected to have a car. No way I was going to depend on anyone else to get where I needed to go.

I took my phone out of my clutch and saw that Dan hadn’t called me and there were no messages for me in our group chat. I took a few deep breaths and told myself he’d call. He’d probably lost his phone or something else had kept him from just hitting the damn button and talking to me.

That clouded my mood as we reached the hotel. To my surprise, a bunch of photographers were there waiting to immortalize the moment when William Leister would expand his company and with it his fortune. I felt so out of place that I would have taken off running if I wasn’t wearing those damned high heels.

“Nicholas should be here already,” William said. His attitude was serious. “He knows the family photos come at the beginning of the dinner.” This was the first time since I’d met Will that I’d seen him actually angry.

We waited for ten minutes in the limo while people shouted for us to come out so they could get a picture. It was ridiculous to stay huddled in there, but I guessed millionaires didn’t mind making dozens of photographers wait for their damned snapshot.

Then there was a commotion, and the photographers turned away and started shouting my stepbrother’s name.

“He’s here!” William shouted, irritated but also relieved. “Come on, honey,” he told my mother and opened the door.

As soon as I got out, I could see the photographers’ flashes practically blinding Nick and his date. They looked like real movie stars, and they were being treated like they were, too.

How could so many people know his name?

Our eyes met. I looked at him with indifference despite how handsome he was, and he scowled at me before turning back to his girlfriend or friend with benefits or whatever the hell she was. He kissed her on the lips, and the photographers went wild.

When they separated, the people shouted for more.

“Anna, how are you?” Will greeted Nicholas’s date. He was clearly livid. “If you don’t mind, we need to take some family photos, but we’ll be back with you in a few minutes.” What a gentle way of getting someone off your back!

Anna eyed me up. I could tell she hated me, probably for all the trash Nicholas had talked. And I hadn’t even had the pleasure of getting to know her. I ignored her and went over to my mother so we could take the damned photos and get them over with. We stood in front of a backdrop with ads for God knows what, and the flashes blinded me for a second.

When my mother had married one of the most important lawyers and businessmen in the United States, I hadn’t been surprised to hear she’d sometimes popped up in the papers or magazines, but this was totally crazy. Leister Enterprises: that was the logo you saw everywhere. I even saw actual stars. I freaked out when I spied Johana Mavis in one corner in a dress that was out of this world.

“Tell me that isn’t my favorite writer,” I said, grabbing the person next to me, whom I thought was my mother. But when my fingers touched that forearm, I realized it was too hard to be hers.

“You want me to introduce you?” he asked, and I looked up at him, immediately retracting my hand.

“You know her?” I couldn’t believe it.

“Yeah,” he said like it was no big deal. “My father’s firm handles a lot of Hollywood bigshots’ cases. From the time I was a kid, I’ve known more stars than probably anyone else in LA. Famous people like lawyers—they need them to stay out of jail. You’d be surprised how much it happens.”

I took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter with a nervous feeling in my stomach.

“What about your girlfriend?” I asked to distract myself. “You didn’t just leave her alone after that public display of affection, did you?”

“Do you want the intro or not?” he asked.

“You don’t need to ask. It’s obvious that I do. I’ve been a fan of Johana for as long as I can remember. She wrote the best books of all time,” I said. His attitude amused me. Some way he had of doing someone a favor!

“Come on, then, and don’t start shrieking like a baby, please.”

Oh God… Johana smiled wide when she saw Nick coming over to say hi.

“Nick, you look amazing!” she said, giving him a hug. I was freaking out before. Now I was completely gaga.

“Thanks. You’re stunning as always. Have you seen Dad?” he asked. I analyzed each of Johana’s movements and engraved them in my memory. What I wouldn’t have given to have a camera just then.

“Yeah, I congratulated him,” she laughed. “We need more lawyers like him.”

When the chitchat was over, Nicholas turned to me.

“Johana, I’d like to introduce you to your number one fan: my stepsister Noah. I call her Freckles, though,” he said. He was laughing, but in that moment, I couldn’t care less.

“You’re the greatest. I absolutely love your books,” I said, my voice cracking. Amazing. All those years practicing these phrases in my mind to wind up saying the most cliché thing ever.

Nicholas tried not to smirk, but I could see the sarcasm in his eyes.

“Thanks,” she said and then hugged me. She hugged me!

“You want a photo?” she asked, grabbing me and pulling me over next to her.

“Man, I don’t have a camera,” I said.

“Jesus, Noah. Why do you think God invented cell phones?” said Nicholas.

I smiled, realizing how flummoxed I must be.

Johana put her arm over my shoulders, Nick aimed his iPhone, and the greatest moment of my life was thus immortalized.

“Thank you so much,” I said, still amazed I was actually looking at her.

“No problem, sweetie,” she said before smiling and walking off with a friend.

“You owe me one, little sister,” Nick said, slipping his phone in his pocket before leaning in and continuing in a whisper, “and that means keeping your mouth shut.”

I felt a shiver go up my spine when his hot breath touched my neck. I didn’t care what I was getting myself into anymore. I couldn’t stop smiling.

That was, until my phone buzzed. I opened my messages, expecting to see my photo with Johana. And that was when everything came crashing down. My heart stopped, my hands started to shake, and I felt hot all over. It couldn’t be.

It was a photo all right—a photo of Dan making out with a girl. A girl I knew better than I knew myself.

“I can’t believe it,” I said under my breath. I had a knot in my throat, and if I’d wanted to, I could have shed several years’ worth of tears I’d kept bottled up inside.

“What’s up?” I heard. I realized Nick was there, and he must have seen the photo flash across my screen.

My breathing sped up; I felt betrayed, hurt, deceived. I had to get out of there.

I pressed my phone into his chest and exited through a door to the left. I needed fresh air. I needed to be alone.

I went into the bathroom and walked over to the mirror, leaning on the counter, looking at my feet.

Take it easy…take it easy…don’t break down, not now, don’t cry, they don’t deserve it…

I looked up at my reflection. What was it that hurt more? That the first guy I’d ever loved had cheated on me or that he had done so with my best friend?

Beth… Beth!

I wanted to shout, to hit someone; I needed to do something with all that built-up rage; I needed to do something to keep from breaking into a million pieces. Right when my whole life had been turned upside down, when I was totally alone in a new city with no friends, with no one at all, where no one even cared who I was.

Son of a… I took a few deep breaths to calm down. They’d soon learn what I was capable of.

Once I had myself under control, I returned to the hall, where everyone was eating canapés and blabbing pleasantly about nonsense. No one knew how much pain I was feeling just then, how bad I wanted to shout at all those superficial people that they had no idea what it meant to actually suffer, and I wanted to shove all those glasses of champagne onto the ground and watch them break.

Champagne…good idea. I went straight to the bar.

A guy, Mexican maybe, was serving cocktails, and he turned to me as he wiped his hands with a damp towel.

“What can I offer you, ma’am?” he asked.

I laughed and said, “I’m seventeen years old, and you can’t be much older, so don’t talk to me like I’m one of these bougie bitches with a face-lift,” I said. To my surprise, he started cracking up.

“You wouldn’t say that if you didn’t know your way around here,” he said, looking at all the multimillionaires laughing it up behind me.

“Please, don’t even insinuate that I’ve got anything in common with these people. I’m here because my dumbass crazy mother decided to marry William Leister, not because this is paradise for me,” I said, draining the glass of champagne and handing it back to the bartender to refill it.

“Wait a second,” he said, looking behind him and then back at me. “You’re Nick Leister’s stepsister?”

Dear God, not another of that dickhead’s friends, please.

“I am,” I said, impatient to get served again and drown my miseries.

“I feel sorry for you,” he confessed, finally pouring the champagne. My mood was getting a little better. Anyone who hated Nick automatically had a place on the list of my favorite people in the world.

“What do you know him from, apart from his unquestioned reputation as a stuck-up asshole?”

“I don’t think you want to know,” he said, refilling my glass a second time without needing to be asked.

At that rate, I’d be drunk before midnight.

“If you’re talking about the races, I already know,” I said, realizing how much I wanted to get out of here. Was I really going to sit in that room full of people I didn’t know but hated with all my soul? Was I going to stay away from the thing I loved the most just because my mom had asked me to? Had she asked me when she’d decided to turn our lives upside down? If I hadn’t left, I’d still have a boyfriend and a best friend—or maybe I’d had to leave to find out the truth.

“I’m going to the races, and you’re taking me,” I said, and I felt that tingle in my body I got when I was doing something bad—something risky, something liberating, something that told me I wasn’t going to be the good little girl everyone expected me to be.

That night I would do whatever the hell I wanted, and if I got my revenge, too, then all the better.