“No.” CC bent over the side of the mattress and grabbed her shirt, then wiggled it on and let the covers fall away. “Dad made a deal with his company to take care of Paxton.” She scrambled out of bed and gripped my hand. “If he tries to renege on it, I’ll schedule interviews with the press and blast social media, letting everyone know about the second set of books he keeps, which just happen to show where the ten million in missing funds really went.”
I straightened, glancing at the stubborn jut of CC’s chin and the wide stance of her legs.
She’s seriously going to do it, to blackmail her father for me.
Gratitude and love coursed through my heart, and if her mother hadn’t been there giving me the glare to end all glares, I would’ve hugged this fierce girl to my chest.
“You wouldn’t dare do that to your father, tome,” Charlotte whispered, her voice tight.
“I would.” She nodded. “That missing money didn’t go to some fake outreach program. It went into your greedy pockets.”
“You’d ruin your own life—our entirefamily’slife—on this…this…destitute boy?” A vicious smile formed on Charlotte’s face.
“Absolutely.” Terri’s fingers squeezed mine.
“You idiotic, reckless tramp.” She whirled away with her fists clenched at her sides, then slammed the door as she left.
I turned to CC and wrapped her in my arms. “I’m sorry. So sorry. I’ve ruined everything.”
“No, you haven’t.” She placed a palm against my cheek. “I’m glad she saw us together. Now she knows how we feel. We can be open and honest.”
I wanted to deny what she said. I knew where this was leading, yet her eyes shone with such hope, I didn’t want to take it away from her. Not yet.
“Do you really plan on outing your dad?”
She lowered her hand to my bare chest and swirled a fingertip against the skin. “If I have to.”
“How’d you even know about the money?”
Her sharp gaze met mine and she giggled. “I didn’t. I just assumed that’s what happened.”
“My bold, brave CC.” I angled my head and wrapped my hands in her hair, pulling her mouth to mine, losing myself in the feel of her body molding against me.
After a while, she broke away. “Come on. We’d better get dressed and ready. I’m sure Mom will have worked herself into a real mood and is on the phone, demanding Dad come home.”
Dread pooled in the pit of my stomach and sweat broke out over my body. It felt as if the minutes of the day were ticking faster, their culmination leading to something irreversible and life shattering, and I was helpless to stop it.
****
I sat in a leather chair and stared across an imposing wooden desk facing Charles Kingston.
At his back was a floor-to-ceiling bookcase filled with books covering accounting rules, economics, and state tax laws. His office smelled of stale cigar smoke and worn leather. The room, situated at the back corner on the second story of the house, boasted a wall of windows to my left. The fading rays of the evening sun burst through the glass with an amber glow.
“For the love of God.” His tone, clipped, held no warmth. “I had to rush home from an important meeting because my wife called and told me she’d caught youfuckingmy sixteen-year-old daughter.” His lips were pressed so tightly his mouth became a hard slash. The lines at the corners of his eyes creased his skin. There was no kindness on his face, no understanding, no forgiveness.
Inhaling sharply, I shifted in my seat, dropping my gaze to my hands.What do I say?I knew defending myself would make things worse. I should’ve kept my dick in my pants.
I’ve managed to do it before, so why not now?
But I knew why. I loved Cotton Candy and at the time, she’d been the only thing I wanted, the only thing I needed. She and I had flown together, just like Peter Pan and Wendy, and found our own version of Neverland, away from the mundane, away from the reality of life. At least for a little while.
“I can’t, in good conscience, continue to allow you to live under the same roof as my daughter, not after…”
The rest of his sentence faded out.
I clutched my knees and inhaled, trying to force myself to remain calm. But blind panic gripped me, throwing its arms around my chest until I couldn’t breathe. An image of my father lying on his back, his eyes dead to the world with a needle jutting from his vein, swam through my brain. The memory of soured food, dug from the bottom of a dumpster, flooded my mouth to mix with the bile rising up my throat.
“I understand, sir.”Maybe I can find a job at a convenience store. Most gas stations hire sixteen-year-olds, don’t they?No, I was too young for those places, but maybe I could get a job at a grocery store. It would make it easier to snag food.
