“I don’t think you realize who we are; maybe now you’ll cooperate.”
“Sign the fucking papers,” I hiss.
The last thing I care about is getting my father what he wants. But I know my brother better than he knows himself. He’ll kill her to prove a point, to piss me off. If this is the only way to keep her safe, then happy early fucking holiday,Dad.
“Okay. Just don’t hurt her.”
I release him with a jerk and snatch the pictures from the desk, stuffing them into my pocket. I don’t stick around to wait for Barron to do the deed.
The second I step into the hall, I punch the wall, unbothered and affected by the pain of my skin splitting around the knuckles. Or by the sight of my blood mixing with his.
Jude exits the room, and I grab him by the collar, catching him off guard when I slam him into the wall. The weight of my thrust against his giant of a frame leaves an indent in the cream-colored structure.
“What the fuck was that?” I demand through gritted teeth.
“A job.”
“You put a camera in my fucking house, Jude.” It’s not a question.
“Naw, I don’t care that much. But, maybe you should close your blinds, brother.” Jude laughs.
As I turn to walk away, I throw my elbow back, letting it slam into his stomach. “Fuck you.”
“And here I thought we were playing on the same team. It’d be a shame to see what happens to Arloe when Dad learns you’ve abandoned your fucking duty. Family before pussy, Easton!” Jude yells at my back, but I ignore him.
Fuck him and my father. They can handle the rest of this shit without me. At this point, I’m done taking orders and I’m done being blindsided with their bullshit.
Chapter Fourteen
Arloe
It’s late.
Greer’s already gone home, and I want nothing more than to do the same. To crawl under my covers as I try to make sense of things. But I can’t, there’s too much to get done before I can get out of here.
I check my phone for the hundredth time today. Still no response from Easton, and it’s driving me up the wall.
He opened up to me last night, let me in. We connected, and then he was gone. After fucking me senseless against that pool table, he went right back to that cold, hardened exterior. He was short, everything he said after was clipped and full of resentment.
We didn’t cuddle or talk about what any of this means. Not that I expect a man like him to hold me, but he could have done something—given me anything other than silence.
He came inside me, tossed me my clothes, and made me leave. And now, he’s yet to return any of my calls. Somewhere around midday, I stopped dialing his number and sending him messages. But it doesn’t stop me from wondering what went wrong.
For fear of coming off as the chick who loses her mind after having sex with a guy, I shove my phone into my purse and push away the thoughts of him.
He doesn’t get to do that.
He doesn’t get to impose on my life, make me feel things I know I shouldn’t, make me forget he’s not a good guy. He doesn’t get to fuck me and forget me.
I’m better than this. I’m better than him, and Idon’tneed him. I had a life before him, and it is high time I get back to it. My phone vibrates in my purse, and when I remove it to see my dad’s name across my screen, disappointment fills me.
“Ugh,” I grunt out and toss the device back in my bag.
Things are strained with my dad and me. We were close once, then my mother died, and we haven’t been the same since. Then there was the mistress we knew nothing about. While my mom was dying, he buried himself into his work, that blasphemous campaign, which turned out to be more of a lie.
An entire separate life—a secret family. Instead of being with us—me and his real family—he was with her. So fighting is the way we communicate, and right now, I’d rather not. He’s made it clear he didn’t want me to drop out of college and he certainly doesn’t see a future in books. The last time we spoke, we argued, and with my emotions all over the place, I can’t deal with another lecture.
Instead, I busy myself taking care of tasks I’ve neglected or dropped to be where Easton told me to be. Besides, we’re reaching the end of the month, and if I want to get my quarterly taxes filed on time, I need to go through the month-end reports.
