Winter's Heart (32 page)

This time a sob escaped and she buried her face against Harry’s neck. His hands stopped stroking for only a moment before continuing. “He thinks you did it?” At her nod, he growled, “What a fool.”

She thought she might have fallen asleep because it seemed only moments had passed before she heard her sister’s voice through a fog. “Flynn!”

“Shhh,” Harry shushed. “She’s finally asleep.”

There was a dip on the couch and then a cool hand pressed against her forehead as Fallon whispered, “It’s a madhouse out there. What the hell happened?”

Flynn heard the rustling of slick papers and pried her eyes open to see her sister pick up the hateful magazine. After skimming through it, Fallon leaned back in the chair. “Huh, no wonder why everyone was giving me odd looks today. Why doesn’t she just tell Winter she didn’t write it?”

“Apparently she tried and he didn’t believe her,” Harry said grimly, still gently rocking her. How long had he been holding her? “But I’m not positive because she isn’t talking.”

“I want to go home,” she finally managed to say, her words coming out like a four-year-old’s.

Fallon jumped at the unexpected sound, turning to face her with pity in her eyes. “If you run away it will be an admission of guilt.”

“What does it matter if the only one who should believe me doesn’t?” she asked in a dead voice, no longer able to meet her sister’s eyes because she couldn’t bear to see the pity there. Not that it would have mattered since she didn’t feel anything, just a dull, nothingness that was comforting because she knew that agony waited on the other side of that numbness. “I just want to go home and lick my wounds.”

“Stay, Flynn,” Fallon pleaded, rubbing Flynn’s arm as Harry continued to cradle her like a baby. “This will all blow over in a few days, sweetie.”

Except it didn’t blow over, it got exponentially worse. Hate mail arrived by the truckload from Winter’s fans, from Melissa’s fans, from Addison’s fans, from everyone. Flynn was barricaded in her apartment because more and more reporters began camping outside the building in the hopes of catching sight of the infamous Flynn Rogers, the girl who betrayed Winter Mitchell and all of his friends. Everyone hated her for something she hadn’t done but was the only one who could have done it.

Fallon was stuck as well, unwilling to leave Flynn’s side because that was what sisters did for one another. But it only made Flynn feel worse because her sister was missing auditions left and right. So she pasted on a smile and pretended she was fine while on the inside she was dead. In the week since the magazine hit, she hadn’t shed a single tear but then dead girls don’t cry.

Sitting on the couch as Fallon took another look out the window, Flynn forced herself to take another bite of Harry’s food that he kept bringing up for them. It tasted like nothing but she didn’t want to worry her sister, who already looked at her with too much concern. Trying to erase that anxiety from Fallon’s eyes, she flippantly asked, “Why didn’t Harry marry me when I asked him to? Then none of this would be happening and I could be getting fat without the paparazzi watching.”

“Sweetie,” Fallon said, letting the curtain fall back into place and joining Flynn on the couch. “Three bites of food are hardly going to make you fat. Besides, Harry’s mine.”

Flynn forced her lips into an upwards curve to match her sister’s glowing smile but it hurt. “Maybe we could clone Harry and I can take the clone home with me.”

“You’re really leaving?” Fallon asked, still not quite accepting the fact that Flynn couldn’t stay or that her plane was leaving in a few hours.

“I am,” she nodded, laying her fork down on the mostly full plate, unable to stomach another mouthful. “As much as I love you, you’ll have more success if you can actually go out there and audition instead of sitting around here holding my hand. Besides, you have Harry.”

“Sweetie,” Fallon started in that tone that told Flynn exactly what was coming next and she braced herself for it. “We still haven’t talked about… him.”

“And we’re not going to,” she said through a frozen grin. She was trying so hard to hold it together and if she talked about… him, thought about… him, she’d come back to life and lose it. She’d fucking lose it.

“Maybe once he calms down….”

“We’re not talking about him,” Flynn interrupted, her knuckles turning white as she squeezed her hands into fists. She could feel her sluggish blood trying to warm her veins, feel her heart trying to bring her back to the land of the living. It was too soon.

“He’ll realize he fucked up,” Fallon continued undeterred.

“Fallon,” Flynn ground out. “There are times when
I
almost believe I wrote the article. It’s almost completely in my voice and everything written were things that he told only to me. Why would he ever believe otherwise?”

“Then maybe he never knew you at all despite everything you gave him and you’re better off without him,” Fallon said with all of the conviction that only a sister can muster, deflating when she saw Flynn's sorrow. Offering a sad, resigned smile, she said, “You can use this to your advantage you know. Set up a business and call it
Naughty Secrets Event Planners
. Sure, the clientele might be a little suspect but you can use your notoriety for good because even whores need love and a well-planned party.”

Despite her shattered heart, Flynn laughed. Throwing her arms around Fallon’s shoulders, she hugged her sister with all of her might, “I’m going to miss you most of all, Scarecrow.”

Fallon chuckled, hugging her back. “There’s still time to get me a ticket so I can go back with you.”

“Please, you’re going to be a famous actress; your place is here,” Flynn scoffed, pulling back and wiping away the tears that hadn’t quite fallen. “Plus, Harry is here. Besides, once I dye my hair, get some contacts, and change my name I can come back.”

Fallon smiled like Flynn hoped she would.

Using the secret knock, Harry tapped on the door and with a heavy sigh, Flynn stood up as Fallon let her boyfriend in. He looked at Fallon with a heart melting expression that made Flynn want to cry, with sadness over what she lost and joy over what Fallon found. But she couldn’t afford to thaw out, not yet. Then Harry turned to her, his eyes burning with pity. “Let’s get you ready to go.”

She nodded, following him into the bathroom, freezing when she saw herself in the mirror. “God, I look like something even the cat wouldn’t drag in.”

Harry gave a little smirk, his equivalent of a laugh. Pulling stuff out of the bag he had sat on the toilet, he held up a small white box of black hair dye. “This is temporary and will wash out once you get home
and take a shower.”

She nodded her head in understanding. Next he pulled out a couple of small packages. Holding one up, he said, “I can pierce you or,” he held up the other, “We can put fake studs in. As long as no one gets too close they won’t be able to tell the difference.”

“Combination?” she asked, swallowing against the lump in her throat. A few more piercings to match the holes in her heart might be appropriate. “I think I would like a line of hoops along the shell of my left ear.”

“I can do that,” he nodded, setting the supplies down on the counter next to the hair dye. “I’m also going to affix a fake hoop to your nose and attach it to the earring in your lobe with a lightweight chain.”

“Cool.”

The last thing he grabbed was a small palette of colors, black and white and gray. Holding her eyes, he simply said, “Makeup.”

She nodded and let him get to work, transforming her from the girl next door to a Goth chick. The temporary dye was first, the black hair altering her appearance almost enough to let her escape without being recognized. Next came the earrings, which didn’t hurt until he got to the cartilage and she begged him to stop after only five holes. Setting her down on the toilet, he applied the makeup, whitening her skin until she was deathly pale and then lining her lids with charcoal and swiping her lips with black. The final piece was the fake nose ring attached to her real earring.

“I look nothing like me,” she breathed as she stared at the reflection that looked like an extra in a death metal video. Smiling a ghoulish smile, she met Harry’s eyes in the mirror, “I bet I’m not too sweet for you now, am I, Harry?”

“Nah,” he grinned, touching the tip of her nose with his finger to let her know that he still thought she was too sweet despite his words. “You’re way too spicy for a hard ass like me.”

Her smile was a little more genuine at his kind lie. “Thank you for that.”

“Now, remember to sneer at anyone who looks at you,” he instructed. “And if they start to stare, meet their eyes and stare right back. Most people are uncomfortable with that kind of direct confrontation.”

“
I’m
uncomfortable with that,” she admitted.

“But you’re not you,” he reminded her. “Stare back and don’t flinch. You’re encased in a bubble, Flynn, and nothing can touch you.”

Her heart was in her throat and she was certain she wasn’t going to be able to remember most of the advice he was giving her but she nodded, “Okay.”

“Here.” He handed her a fake ID that looked like the girl in the reflection, more or less. Running his hand through his red Mohawk, he said, “I bought the ticket under Roberta Smith and had my guy make up an ID. I found the picture on the internet.”

She nodded as tears filled her eyes. His eyes went wide as he held up his hands, “Don’t cry!’

“I won’t,” she sniffed, blinking back the tears. Throwing her arms around his broad shoulders, she managed to say, “Thank you, Harry, for everything.”

“Thank you for Fallon,” he whispered back, returning the hug with surprising emotion. Taking her hand in his, he led her out to the living room where Fallon just about dropped her cup of water.

“Holy fucking shit, Flynn,” she choked out. Picking her jaw up from off the ground, she shook her head and grinned, “You look fucking amazing.”

Closing the distance between them, Flynn took her sister in a huge hug, “I love you, Fallon.”

“I love you, too, Flynn,” she whispered. “I’m not going to cry because this isn’t goodbye. You’ll be back before the summer is over.”

“For a visit, maybe,” Flynn conceded, pulling back and wiping a smudge of black from her sister’s face. “I’ll see you soon, Fallon.”

Fallon pasted on a brilliant smile, “I guess that is my cue to be the distraction.”

With a deep breath, her sister spun on her heal and headed out to the chaos below. Turning, Flynn found Harry staring after Fallon with a look of wonder on his face. When he caught her staring, he gave a slight smile and vowed, “I’m going to marry that woman.”

♥~♥~♥

For a week, Winter hid out in his house in the country with Storm, spending most of his time with his son, except for when Storm was with his private tutor. Since Storm was currently having lessons, Winter sat in his living room watching the latest developments on the mess his life had become, turning the volume up when he saw a familiar figure emerge from the front of the most popular building in L.A. since last Monday. His heart picked up speed until he realized it was only Fallon and not… the other one. There was something beating at him from inside his head but he ignored it because he didn’t want to think about her. If he thought about her, about her betrayal, he might break.

With dramatic flair that would have done Shakespeare proud, Fallon tossed back her long, shimmering hair as reporters crowded around her and bellowed out questions. “Flynn! Look this way! Flynn Rogers!”

Smiling brilliantly, she swept off her glasses, her green eyes flashing annoyance and fury, making her a sight to behold. “You’re all mistaken. I’m not Flynn, I’m her older sister Fallon.”

“A few questions!” the jackals called out, not fazing the girl in the least.

“Do your worst,” she said with a shark’s smile. He doubted that any of the reporters realized that the most dangerous person there was the one they were trying to devour. Fallon was going to have them for breakfast and possibly tear a piece of his soul away while she was at it.

Sitting up abruptly, he saw a pair of familiar figures in the background exiting the building but none of the reporters paid the duo the least bit of attention. It took him only a moment to realize that the punk and the dead girl were Harry and… her. Bold as brass, she hid in plain sight as she made her escape.

The camera angle changed and he found himself screaming at the T.V. “Pan back, you fuckers!”

“How do you feel knowing your sister is a betraying whore?” Gerald Camden asked, an immoral bastard from
Skin Me
, a magazine all about degrading the entire human race with its hackneyed articles and debased nudes that lacked even an ounce of artistry. Usually his questions were drowned out by the other, slightly less sleazy reporters, but every single one of the spineless bastards let the question stand.

Fallon pinned the man with her stare and Winter could have sworn the slimy bastard flinched. Her smile was all teeth as she scathingly answered, “I’m outraged….”

A flurry of questions exploded until she held up her hand and silence fell so she could continue talking. “I am outraged on
my sister’s
behalf. It takes a whole boatload of crazy to implicate Flynn in any of this and yet somehow someone managed to do precisely that. My sister would never sell out anyone, let alone the love of her life.”

“It was a lot of money,” Moira Jones said.

“I’m sure it was,” Fallon answered smoothly, her sharp eyes piercing the woman where she stood. Moira took a step back before catching herself. “And someone out there is far richer for betraying not just the handful of good people in that article but Flynn as well since she. Didn’t. Do. It.”

“How can you be so certain of that?” Jackson Belington asked. He was the next to flinch.

Fallon actually threw her head back and laughed in mockery and astonishment. “Because I know my sister. And if Winter knew her at all, he would realize that Flynn could never have betrayed him. Ever.”