Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 146477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 732(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 146477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 732(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
The longer I watch Mae put on her pity party, the harder it becomes to sit here, and as the irritation becomes too much, I go to get up, but Jonah beats me to it. He pushes back from the table and gets to his feet. “I uhh . . . I should go check on Harper. Make sure she’s not trying to drive her ass home.”
I all but fly to my feet. “No, no,” I say, desperate to get out of this room. “Stay. Eat. I’ll go.”
Jonah’s face scrunches, looking at me as though I’ve lost my mind, and maybe I have, but anything is better than staying here and listening to Mae’s pathetic sob-fest. “Huh? Why?”
Good fucking question.
My gaze flicks toward his mother and not a moment later, understanding flashes in his eyes. “Right. Gotcha,” he says. “But fair warning, if Harper’s going down, she’s going down swinging. She’ll have something to say, and if you don’t give her your full, undivided attention and let her rant, you better watch your back.”
A smirk pulls at my lips. A fiery Harper-Rayn? Yes please. I’m getting hard just thinking about it. “Noted,” I say, before nodding to Elias and attempting a smile for Mae to be polite, but honestly, it comes out as more of a grimace.
I don’t wait around, spinning on my heel and hightailing it out of this ridiculous mansion. I reach the grand front door in seconds, and the moment I pull it open, I hear someone manically pacing at the end of the long driveway, muttering to herself under her breath.
Pulling the door closed behind me, I make the trek down the driveway, watching Harper-Rayn attempt to wear a hole in the pavement. I go out of my way to walk with heavy steps so she knows I’m here, but she’s so lost in thought that she doesn’t notice me until I’m barely a foot away.
“Shit,” she gasps, momentarily pausing before getting straight back to pacing. She shakes her head, clearly still haunted by her own thoughts, and I simply wait, knowing the onslaught is coming. “She just . . . She makes me so angry.”
“So she should. The woman is a narcissistic bitch.”
Harper pauses, and I can’t help but notice the way her long hair falls over her creamy shoulder. She usually has it up in a messy bun, but like this, I can’t stop picturing how easy it’d be to wrap it around my wrist and pull her head back until she arched that sweet back of hers.
“Wait,” she says, her brows pinched together. “You agree with me?”
I nod. “Vehemently.”
Her brows fly up in surprise, and she nods right back at me, her lips pursed. “Good to know,” she says before taking a breath and meeting my stare again. “Did I take it too far? I bet she’s in there putting on a show about how horrible her ungrateful daughter is.”
“Oh, she’s definitely eating up every bit of attention she can get,” I tell her, not bothering to sugarcoat it. “The waterworks are a bit overkill though.”
“Shit. She’s crying?”
“Oh yeah.”
“I’m going to have hell to pay.”
I shrug. “Probably, but she deserved it. Dismissing everything you’ve achieved in front of a room full of people was uncalled for. Personally, I would have gone in harder, but the broke bitch from Queens and the three years on her knees sucking dick for a ring really were a crowd pleaser. You should be proud of yourself.”
A grin cuts across her lips, and the way her eyes sparkle lets me know she’s going to be just fine. “I am. I’ve been waiting years for that moment.”
“Good. Now, why the hell are you hovering out here? Where’s your car, Morticia?”
Her cheeks flush at the stupid name, and I fucking love it. “I’m not driving,” she tells me. “I’m waiting for an Uber, which is really screwing with my whole storming off thing. I could have timed that better.”
An Uber? Not on my fucking watch.
I shake my head and indicate for her to follow me. “Come on. I’ll drive you.”
I start walking toward my truck when her voice flutters behind me. “That’s okay. You don’t need to do that.”
“I’m not telling you again, Morticia,” I say, not bothering to halt my step or even look back at her. “Get in my fucking truck.”
“I—shit.”
The sound of her heels against the pavement cuts through the night, and I do what I can to keep the smirk off my face as she hurries after me. I unlock my truck and climb in, and within seconds, the passenger side door is flying open. Harper climbs in with a huff before fixing me with a hard stare, and I make a point not to look at her as I start the engine and let the truck roar to life.