Me, the black sheep of the family.
Scarlett was the goody-two-shoes everyone loved, while I was the bolder, daring twin who always got herself in trouble. I was destined to be the fuck up.
Not her.
Scarlett was chosen to be the new leading actress in Lover’s Purgatory, the latest theater production by award-winning director Nick Fairchild.
In six week’s time, when the play opens, all of L.A.’s theater-goers will be talking about it. I know they would have adored Scarlett as much as the world revered our grandmother and our mother. Hollywood snapped up both, and my sister was on her way to join their legacies.
At one point in my life, that dream was what I wanted more than anything.
I still want it. Scarlett knew that too. That’s why she was always making me promise to seize the opportunity if it came to me. I wanted to tell her I was working on getting my life back on track and planning to go to college next year.
Most of our twenty-four years on this earth were horrible, but I paid the price in more ways than one.
Since college Scarlett has been in ten theater productions, but this one was supposed to be the epitome of her career. I paid with my soul so she could live. Now she’ll never know how proud I am of her.
That’s why she came to see me.
Now she’s dead. All that purity, talent, and beauty is gone.
If I wasn’t here, this would never have happened to her.
I reach out and press my fingertips to her ice-cold arm. Her usually vibrant skin is ashen and ghostly.
I trail down to the tiny little tattoo scribbled on her left wrist. It says, Carpe Diem. I have the same tattoo on my right wrist. The positioning is possibly one of the only things that could differentiate us, and it’s not something I specifically wanted.
I got it for her when we were eighteen. She used to seek those Carpe Diem moments as she would call them. Getting the tattoo was one of them.
Anyone would think I’d be the girl to believe in those types of sayings.
I’m not.
Thrill-seeking sayings like that don’t fly with people like me. They’re for those who need to remember to live. I’ve always had to fight to survive, so I know more than most the true value of life. That’s why I’m so aggrieved there was nothing I could do to protect her.
The door behind me opens, and a second later, Marquees is at my side.
As grief sags my shoulders, he gives me a reassuring squeeze.
“I’m sorry, Summer, but we need to leave,” he says, speaking in a low voice that makes his deep French accent sound thicker. “It was a big risk coming here, and it’s not wise for you to stay out in the open like this where someone could see you.”
He snuck me in through the back under the guise of a black hooded sweatshirt and my long brown hair tucked away. He’s right, but I don’t know how I’m supposed to leave Scarlett here.
“I can’t leave her, Marquees,” I choke out.
“You have to. I know it’s hard seeing her like this, but you have to get out of Monte Carlo.”
When I first came here, I wanted to escape the darkness of my past. I never knew that darkness would follow me. I just wanted to go somewhere where no one knew me. That was a bad idea. It led me here.
“What’s going to happen now?” I ask.
“The captain is satisfied it was a suicide, so the case will be treated as such. There’s nothing to say otherwise. The surveillance in your apartment either doesn’t work or didn’t pick up what happened. That means I can’t do anything that won’t compromise your safety.” He gives me a worried stare. “Summer, most of the cops here are on Micah Santa Maria’s payroll. You know what that means. You also know my hands are tied, and there’s very little I can do.”
I do know. Micah Santa Maria is the prick Jake works for. He’s part of the Italian Mafia. I’ve seen people come to the club to meet with him, and days later, they’re reported missing, or they turn up dead. If you work for him, he owns you.
It was bad enough Jake saw me when he killed that man, but Micah was there as well. I as good as signed my own death certificate when his gaze landed on me.
“Summer, if I even breathe a word of the truth, you’re dead.” He keeps his gaze trained on me. “Everyone thinks she’s you. I hate to say this, but you’re safe for as long as Jake thinks he killed you.”