I’ve been living in hell since the day Mom died. Amelia made sure of it.
“Are you really coming at me with that? You should be paying more attention to helping out Natalie than trying to run me off from both your exes. Exes as in past tense, Amelia. They aren’t yours anymore.”
She leans in close, and I can already smell alcohol on her breath, meaning she had something to drink before getting here.
“Stay away from them, or so help me god, you’ll regret it.”
That spark of defiance that seems to be growing inside me, little by little with each passing day, gets hotter and brighter. It gives me the strength to say exactly what I think.
“Fuck you and fuck your stupid threats. We have nothing else to talk about, so please leave.”
I should have expected Amelia to lash out in one way or another. Her fingernails, like tiny knives, slice into my forearm and draw blood when she grabs me in a punishing grip. I hiss at the sudden pain but otherwise don’t react.
“Let. Go.”
She only digs her fingernails in harder.
I get a sense of awareness that someone is standing behind me just as I’m suddenly pulled off my stool by a solid arm of muscle and held tightly against a very defined chest.
I don’t need to look to see who the hard body belongs to. I know.
“Get your fucking hands off her,” Jordan’s deep voice rumbles, and I feel it penetrate through me like the percussion of a shockwave.
Harper is with him. “What’s going on? Is thatblood?”
If ever there was a time to sayfuck my life, now would be it.
Chapter 25
The power convertible top is down on the Jeep, allowing the cool, dry wind to whip through. Mike has the radio turned to a K-Pop station that I’m trying to block out. He’s obsessed with BTS. Don’t even get me started about the shit-fit he had when he found out the band was taking a break.
I’m man enough to admit, the song playing now is catchy. The lyrics make no sense though. What the hell does, “I glow up,” mean?
My fingers drum on the steering wheel. “There’s something I haven’t told you.”
Mike’s head slowly turns in my direction.
“I saw Chase.”
“When?”
I’m not proud to admit, “A couple of weeks ago.”
He turns off the radio. “I love how you wait to tell me that now, and not… say for example… the day it happened or any other time until right fucking this second.”
I flip him the bird, and he punches me in the shoulder.
“Asshole. Well, what happened? Bury any hatchets, and I mean that in a very non-literal way.”
I see the road sign for Mickey’s Bar and Grill up ahead and turn my blinker on.
“Things haven’t changed, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Figured as much. Otherwise, you would’ve told me by now,” he replies and turns the radio back on.
I take my eyes off the road for a second. “Mike, I’m not going to tell you who to be friends with, so if you want him back in your life, I won’t stop you.”
See? I’m not a complete asshole. I won’t dictate who he’s allowed to talk to or be friends with. The only person Chase needs to keep completely away from is Douglass. Okay, maybe I am an asshole.
