That Night in August: Chapter Five

---

September 1st

C A R M E N

When the pesky morning sun spills through my drapes and rouses into a state of consciousness, my head thrums and mouth feels drier than the Sahara. My feet are cramping—no doubt thanks to the shoes I wore—and my achy muscles beg for at least another eight hours of sleep.

I roll over beneath my bedsheets, fully intent on getting at least another hour of rest before forcing myself up. However, as I move to assume a new sleeping position, my leg knocks into something. Except this is not a decorative pillow or a pile of clothes.

No. This is a person who releases a groan of disapproval when I bump into them.

My eyes spring open, and I fight the strain caused by the light as I focus on just who is resting beside me. I catch sight of dark locks of hair and a pair of bare, broad shoulders peaking out from the top of my duvet.

Oh, shit.

I bolt upright, and my head throbs and stomach whirls, which I interpret as my body's way of telling me to move slower whilst feeling so delicate. I pull my covers upward and I take an apprehensive look underneath.

No clothes. Fantastic. It's all coming back to me now.

I slept with Zachary Ward.

With my foot, I prod him again—intentionally, this time. "Hey, wake the hell up!" I whisper-yell.

He groans and releases an irate, muffled response into the pillow. "Let me fucking sleep, Ellis."

"Do I need to repeat myself?" I shove him with more force this time.

Zachary curses under his breath as he sits up in bed and turns to face me with hooded eyes. He sports tousled bed-hair, which I grudgingly have to admit is extremely sexy. "Happy? You going to throw a stick for me this time?"

I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Please don't remind me about anything I said or did last night. It was a mistake."

"What? How you asked me to kiss you when we were dancing together downstairs so I'd stay?"

"Zachary, I mean it—"

"The noises you made when I had you pinned against your bedroom door?"

"I swear to God, I—"

He chuckles. "Funny, I don't remember you using the Lord's name in vain when you were clawing at my back as I teased you last—"

I shove him with my foot again to shut him up, and he spouts some colourful language as he just about stops himself from tumbling out of my double bed onto the floor below.

"Shit," Zachary grunts. "You've got strong legs. But I suppose I already knew that with how tight you had them wrapped around my waist—"

"Yep, you're done," I scrunch my face up and look away from him, dissatisfied. "Out!" I point a manicured finger at the door.

"You were much nicer last night," he snorts.

"I was drunk, Zachary!"

"As was I."

Silence consumes the room for several minutes. I feel the mattress dip and move as Zachary finally removes himself from my bed and picks his discarded clothing up from the floor before dressing himself. Meanwhile, I remain buried beneath my sheets, eyes glued to the wall at the far side of my room.

"So, want to kiss me goodbye before I'm gone?" Zachary teases.

I turn back to face him, noticing the cheeky smirked etched onto his face as he folds his muscular arms across his broad chest. The same chest I pressed wet kisses down last night, travelling southward before — yep, shut up, I curse my racing thoughts.

"With morning breath? Absolutely not," I scoff. "In fact, even with minty-fresh breath, I'd still pass on that one. It's never happening again, so don't bother trying to convince me otherwise."

Zachary barks out a laugh. "Oh, Ellis. You're assuming I want to fuck you again? Don't flatter yourself—it was good, but I've had better."

My mouth falls agape, and I am devoid of anything brazen to throw back in his face. Bastard.

"I'll see myself out. See you around," he says, shooting me an aggravating smirk and departing salute before reaching for the door handle. But before he can unlock and fling the oak structure open, the sound of keys jingling in the front entrance downstairs comes into earshot, and the two of us freeze.

Shit.

That must be Mum and Dad.

But they weren't due home until this evening.

"Carmen Ellis! Care to explain what on Earth has happened here?" My mother's voice booms from downstairs.

"Who the hell is that?" Zachary murmurs as his eyes cast back over at me.

I grimace. "My mum."

"Good luck, Ellis. I don't envy you," he snorts, before moving to twist the key that sits inside the lock.

"Do you have a death wish?" I seethe and, thankfully, he does not unlock or open the door.

"What the hell do I have to worry about?" He feigns innocence. "You're the one who threw a rager and got me into bed with you. I'm just collateral damage."

"Last I checked, you jumped over my garden fence and dove into my parents' pool. Don't act like you're completely blameless," I retort. "Technically, I could get you done for breaking and entering. Would you like something else to add to your criminal record, Zachary? I bet it's already swarming with all sorts."

He rolls his eyes, ignoring my comment. "Then how do you propose I get out, smartass?"

"Climb out my window. Use the tree outside to get to the floor, then jump the fence again." I shrug my shoulders like it's the simplest of proposals—which it is, in my eyes. He broke into my garden yesterday, so he can surely break back out again.

"Have you smoked something? I'm not a fucking ape, Ellis. I don't climb trees," he scowls.

"Carmen!" my mother yells my name again.

I grab the sheer throw that sits at the far end of my bed and wrap it around my body, using it as a makeshift cover to shield my naked body from Zachary's wandering eyes as I rocket to my wobbly feet. "You are now," I tell him as I stumble over to my bedroom window and open it. "Out. Now."

"If I break a leg, I'm fucking suing," Zachary grumbles as he clomps over to where I stand by the window. He effortlessly propels himself up onto the windowsill and flings his legs over the threshold.

"Good luck finding a lawyer better than the ones I can afford."

He rolls his eyes as he lowers himself onto the tree branch below, testing it beneath his weight for a second, before clambering down entirely. "Oh." He stops and looks up at me before I close the window. "Nice nipple piercing. Very sexy. I can see it through that blanket. Can't say I noticed it last night."

"For the love of God, please get lost!"

He laughs. "Later, Ellis," he says, shooting me a playful wink before beginning his descent down the branches of the old oak tree.

I slam the window closed just as several loud bangs resonate on my bedroom door and my mother yells for me to open up at once.

"Coming," I tell her as I drag my feet across the laminate below, grabbing my dressing gown from where it hangs from a hook on one of my four bedroom walls. I don't want to open the door to my mother wrapped only in a blanket. Once covered by the fluffy, cream-coloured robe, I twist the key in the lock and pry the door open with a shaky exhale.

Mum has her eyes squinted, bags hanging beneath them. She and Dad just come back from vacation, but her dour apparel tells me she spent most of her time away worrying about work and the upcoming campaign. "You have some explaining to do," she says through gritted teeth, arms folded across her chest and a stiletto-clad foot tapping against the floor below domineeringly.

"You said I could have people round," I murmur.

"A few, Carmen! A few friends!" she seethes. "I did not say you could throw a party, and neither did your father!"

"But I—"

"Look at the state of you!" she rambles on as she ushers me into my bedroom and guides me over to my dressing table.

I stare at my reflection in the mirror when it comes into view. My matted blonde tresses fly out in all different directions, and remnants of last night's makeup cakes my face in an array of smudges.

"You look like a cheap whore, Carmen," my mother continues from where she stands behind me. "Just look at this on your neck! Do you know how tacky this makes you look?" One of her nails pokes at the golf ball sized hickey bruised into the side of my neck, and I internally curse Zachary for leaving that there the night before.

"I'm sorry, Mum, I just—"

"Who are you?" She interrupts me.

"I'm..." my voice trails off, but I eventually find it once more after taking a shaky breath. "I'm Carmen Ellis."

"How important is your family and their image? Especially now with my campaign?"

"It's... more important than anything," I say, eyes trailing away from my shameful reflection and instead settling on the floor beneath my feet. "More important than my need to have fun... and Cory's."

"What is your duty?" She continues her questioning.

"To uphold our image," I tell her. "And to be the best version of myself."

"And what do we say about scandals?"

"There is no space for them."

She turns me around so that I am facing her instead. I look up and meet her stony gaze, feeling culpable for jeopardising her campaign and the status of our family. My parents have worked hard to provide us with the lavish lifestyle we have. I shouldn't take it for granted.

"You are going to cover that monstrosity on your neck up and hope to god that you behaved yourself last night," she tells me.

I nod sheepishly. "I will. I'm sorry."

A dissatisfied exhale leaves her. "You're going to clean yourself up and then make a start tidying that god awful mess downstairs. I need to stop by the office for a while, and your father had an urgent meeting to attend this morning, hence us arriving home early. I expect it to be spotless in here by the time we're home."

"Can't I just call the cleaners? I mean, I'm sure Francis will be—"

Mum's grip tightens on my shoulder so much so that her nails dig in, hurting. "No, you are going to clean this yourself, Carmen! Money cannot buy you solutions to everything in life, reputation is far more important. It's about time you got that ingrained in you."

"I — okay, sorry, fine." I shake away from the rough hold she has on me. I expect crescent-shaped marks are engraved into my shoulders from her vice hold.

"Good. I will see you shortly." My mother struts toward my bedroom door, her ruby red Dior heels clicking against the laminate as she departs. "Oh, and Carmen?" she says just before walking through the doorway.

"Yeah?"

"Find your brother and tell him to sort himself out as well. If his bedroom still smells like weed by the time we're home, there will be consequences."

"Alright, I'll find him," I murmur, and she offers me a curt nod before departing, slamming my door behind her with much more force than necessary.

I sigh and turn around to glance in my mirror once again, frowning at my disheveled appearance. My hand lurches out and plucks a makeup wipe from an opened packet. "You need to be perfect," I tell myself in a muttered tone as I rub it across my skin, removing last night's imperfections. "You can do it, Carmen. You always have."

And that is the mantra I repeat in my head like a broken record as I rid my face of smudges, wash the grime and mistakes of last night from my body in the shower and cover the 'monstrosity' on my neck with concealer.

I need to be faultless, or else I am worthless.

Author's Note:

Hello, a new week is here, so I bring you the next chapter of That Night in August. ❤️

What are your thoughts on Carmen's mother and the expectations placed upon Carmen and Cory?

What do you think is going to happen next?

As always, the next chapter will be posted in a weeks' time. I hope you all have a wonderful week. ✨

Amber