Bastards and Scapegoats

polished and dignified. I noticed a nick on his chin, probably from shaving. He had genuine laugh lines painted around his mouth, like he spent his entire life finding everything amusing.
I had yet to meet someone who didn’t like my new grandfather—including me. Though he seemed to know that the public always had their eyes on him, he still maintained a joyful disposition. Jack took the time to get to know me. He hosted barbeques and asked me about what books I was reading. He also got me into one of the best local universities so I could still be close to my mother during this strange transition.
“You’re doing great, kid. I just wish my wife could have lived long enough to see Joseph married. She would have loved you.”
I inhaled slow and steady, trying to come up with a response. I never knew what to say when Jack’s wife was brought up. “I’m sure she was lovely. She’s here in spirit,” I replied before reaching out to gently squeeze my new grandfather’s arm reassuringly.
He patted me on the shoulder before looking back at my mother and new stepfather. “And you look beautiful tonight.” The compliment made me dip my head. I never did well with compliments. I didn’t really know the right way to accept them. That was my mother’s expertise. “You’re so supportive. I’m proud to have you join the family.”
“I just want her to be happy,” I admitted. It was a phrase I’d learned to use repeatedly when reporters asked how I felt about the shotgun wedding and her rumored pregnancy. Four months ago, they were just dating. Two months ago, they were engaged. Now? Mom had a rock the size of California on her hand. And as far as the pregnancy rumors? I’d found a positive test in the trash, but she hadn’t told me yet.
“It’s okay to want to be happy, too,” Jack said while leaning over and tapping me on the nose. “I’m going to talk to my buddy over there. See you later, Vera.” I inhaled his whiskey scent and nodded, like it was the appropriate thing to do, before turning my attention back to my mother.
The bride and groom’s grand exit wasn’t for another hour, according to the itinerary, and I needed to cool off in the main house for a bit before posing for the camera again. I also needed to find some lipstick.
I smiled while walking by senators, governors, diplomats, CEOs and other important people I knew nothing about. I wasn’t raised in this life. I didn’t know the first thing about what my mother was marrying into, but I was quickly learning.
Politicians lived their life on stage. They couldn’t so much as take a shit without everyone knowing. Joseph was following in his father’s footsteps, and Mom looked forward to posing at his side. It seemed appropriate. She was a modern-day Cinderella now standing at the side of a prince. But I didn’t trust in their happily ever after.
After grabbing a glass of water and heading up the trail toward the large house, I guzzled down the chilled drink and took in our surroundings. Jack owned the estate where my mother and Joseph got married. Surrounded by sprawling lawns that were beautiful, the large home was surprisingly modern despite the overgrown vines and traditional landscaping. The blocky house with tall rectangular windows almost felt out of place. Jack had it built as a gift for his late wife and spent some of his summers here. He called it his second retirement home. It was crazy what money could do.
I passed the security guard, who gave me a subtle nod of acknowledgement, before making my way inside and upstairs to the bedroom I was staying in for the next two weeks while my mother and Joseph were honeymooning in Paris. Fucking Paris. Apparently, the Beauregards had a flat in the city, with an incredible view. The only time I’d ever been on vacation was when we went camping at the local state park.
My wobbling ankles ached as I ascended the stairs. Reaching behind my back, I slowly unzipped my dress for a bit of temporary breathing room before letting out a sigh of relief and loosening the smile cemented on my face. “Fucking finally,” I said while walking up the stairs leading to my suite. It wasn’t until I heard a distinct whimper that I stopped on the top step.
“Hello?” I asked. This place was supposed to be off-limits for anyone but the bridal party and families—not that Mom and I had anyone.
“Harder baby,” a high-pitched woman demanded. “Fuck that pussy.”
My eyes widened as a slapping sound filled my ears. Oh, shit. The sound was coming from my room. If someone was bumping uglies in my bed, I was going to lose it.
I instinctively knew I should have walked away. A wiser woman would have fled. But I was drawn to the loud moans. My hand went to the doorknob, and my heart twisted in my chest. I turned the handle slowly, slowly, slowly.
I expected a dark room. My fumbling experiences with sex involved a high school ex-boyfriend who wasn’t worth mentioning. Our twisted experiments were always in the dark. Always while Mom was working a double shift at the restaurant. Always with the pillow clenched between my teeth to stop my moans from shattering the paper-thin walls of my bedroom.
But this wasn’t two bodies seeking pleasure in the silent shroud of darkness. The entire space was drenched in light. It was like they didn’t care if they were seen or heard. They were too lost in the power of pleasure. It was loud and chaotic. Intoxicating.
Directly across from where I was standing at the door, was an old vanity with a large, lit up mirror. Two bodies moving on and against it. I immediately recognized the girl, the hard lines of her face a picture of pleasure in the mirror’s reflection. She was a younger waitress who worked with