Cruel Devious Heir: Part Two

CRUEL DEVIOUS HEIR: PART TWO HEIRS OF ALL HALLOWS’ BOOK FOUR CAITLYN DARE Copyright © 2022 by Caitlyn Dare All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Editing and proofreading by Sisters Get Lit(erary) Author Services CONTENTS 1. Tally 2. Oakley 3. Tally 4. Oakley 5. Tally 6. Oakley 7. Tally 8. Oakley 9. Tally 10. Oakley 11. Tally 12. Oakley 13. Tally 14. Oakley 15. Tally 16. Oakley 17. Tally 18. Oakley 19. Tally 20. Oakley 21. Tally 22. Oakley 23. Tally 24. Oakley 25. Tally 26. Oakley 27. Tally 28. Oakley 29. Tally 30. Oakley 31. Tally 32. Oakley 33. Tally 34. Oakley 35. Tally 36. Oakley 37. Tally 38. Oakley 39. Tally Epilogue Shattered Legacy Sneak Peek About the Author Also by Caitlyn Dare 1 TALLY “Sweetheart?” Dad pokes his head into the guest room. “Can I get you anything?” “No thanks,” I murmur, barely looking at him. “Tallulah.” He comes inside, closing the door behind him. “You’re worrying me, sweetheart. If there’s something—” “Somebody broke into our house and trashed my room, Dad. They massacred a rat and left it in my bed…” A shudder rips through but I force myself to take a deep breath. “Sorry if I’m a little quiet but it’s a lot to process.” “Of course, sweetheart. I know you told Graham you didn’t know anything but if you did, you can tell me. Perhaps the kids at school—” “God, Dad. They’re idiots but they’re not sickos. I don’t know who would have done something like this.” The lie sticks to the roof of my mouth. “Okay, sweetheart. It’s late, I’ll let you get some rest. I’m sure we’ll get to the bottom of this. I’ll be right downstairs if you need me, okay?” With a small nod, I turn my back to him and clutch a pillow to my chest. It’s been a couple of hours since I got home. Since I realised what my stupid, foolish heart hasn’t wanted to believe. Oakley played me. He played me so well I let my defences down and told myself that maybe, just maybe the connection between us was real. That it was more than hatred turned into attraction. I’m such an idiot. Of course, when seven thirty rolled around, there was no sign of Oakley. Not that I ever expected him to come. Let alone waltz up to the front door with the police and my father home. Oakley Beckworth is a liar and a cheat, and I want nothing to do with him. My phone taunts me from the desk but I refuse to get it and turn it back on. I need to be alone. I need to figure out how to pick myself back up after his betrayal. I need to figure out what I’m going to do about Misty and the Heir chasers. Because I don’t doubt for a second that she and Oakley were behind this. A fresh wave of tears slide down my cheeks as I replay last night over in my head—the things Oakley said. The things he did to me. Lies all of it. Every touch, every kiss, and whispered word. I squeeze my pillow tighter, breathing through the ache in my heart. The first boy I gave myself too… And he ripped out my heart and stomped all over it. * * * I barely slept. By the time sunrise peeks through the curtains, I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. Everything hurts. My bleary eyes. My chest. My lungs. My heart. I hate waking up in the guest room. I hate that I can still feel the slight sting between my legs, I hate that I can still taste him. Still remember how he felt above me. Inside me. God, I hate him. I hate him. But not nearly as much as I hate myself. Throwing back the covers, I drag myself out of bed and head into the en suite bathroom. It’s Sunday. Tomorrow is school. If everyone hasn’t already heard, they will by the time classes roll around. I can picture Misty’s face. Her smug smirk as the news works its way around the All Hallows’ gossip mill. Maybe I should tell my parents, in case the truth comes out. But how can I? How can I ever tell them that I got into bed with the enemy—literally—and let him do dirty wicked things to me? The answer is, I can’t. They won’t understand. They won’t— “Tallulah, sweetheart, are you awake?” Mum calls from the hallway. “In the bathroom,” I yell back, hoping she’ll leave me alone. Of course, she doesn’t. I find her waiting in the bedroom when I slip out of the en suite. “Oh sweetheart.” She rushes over to me and pulls me into her arms. “It’s all going to be okay, Tallulah. Your father is going to get the locks changed and the police are looking into all possibilities. But you know, baby, if you know something that might help—” “I don’t, Mum. I already told Dad, I don’t know anything.” “Okay, okay.” She strokes my hair, the way she did when I was a child. “I’m sure we’ll get to the bottom of it.” An awkward tension falls over us full of unspoken words and secrets. Secrets I’ll never tell. Because I’m a fool. I’m the girl who played with fire thinking she wouldn’t get burned. “Come on, let’s go downstairs and I’ll make your favourite breakfast.” “Okay.” I follow her down and curl up on the big chair in the kitchen. “Tea?” Mum asks, and I nod. “I’m going to get your room cleaned up today. The police said…” I zone out, staring out of the back door, the garden beyond. One day. One more day