Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 113923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
For the next fifteen minutes, Mac dodges dozens of prying questions where she can and spits some Grade-A bullshit for the rest.
I get a surreptitious what the fuck glance from Evan, who manages to keep his damn mouth shut and go with it. My brother might be a pushover where Shelley’s concerned, but he’s not an idiot. For my part, I speak as little as possible. Afraid at any moment my filter will malfunction, and I’ll be unable to stop the tirade that will inevitably follow. Few people get me worked up like Shelley Hartley.
After dinner, I’m at the sink rinsing plates when she corners me alone.
“You were awfully quiet,” she says, taking a plate from me to put in the dishwasher.
“Tired,” I grunt.
“Oh, my sweet boy. You work too hard. You need to get more rest.”
I make a noncommittal noise. My skin crawls every time she tries playing the maternal role. It doesn’t suit her.
“Mackenzie seems sweet.” There are all sorts of euphemisms in that statement, none of them nice.
I do my best to ignore her as I rinse and pass, keeping my head down. “Yeah. She’s cool.”
“Noticed that bracelet. And the purse in the living room.”
My shoulders tense.
“Very pricey. Nice job, baby.”
I taste blood from the inside of my cheek when she flashes a knowing smile. It’s blatantly obvious what she thinks—that I’ve found myself a meal ticket. She’s been running the same con so long, I’m not sure she remembers any other way to live.
“So, listen, baby …”
Here it comes. Of fucking course. There’s always an ask. An angle.
“You know, I almost didn’t make it here in one piece,” she continues, oblivious to the anger bubbling up in my gut. “That old car of mine started spewing smoke on the highway. Had to get it towed from a truck stop. Turns out some little plastic box in the engine went and blew up.” She laughs sheepishly. “Now I talked the guy down, but I’m gonna come up a little short on the repair cost.”
“What’s up?” Evan enters the kitchen in time to overhear the end of her bullshit story. Fucking perfect. “Your car broke down?”
“It’s always something with that piece of junk, wouldn’t you know?” she says, playing the damsel because Evan can never resist a chance to be a hero. “Anyway, I was working this job, but I got laid off after the holidays. It’s been tough finding something new. This’ll wipe out everything I had saved up.”
“We’re tapped out,” I inform her, glancing at Evan. “We’ve been putting everything into fixing the house.”
“And the place looks great.” She won’t meet my eyes. Not when she’s got such an easy target with Evan. “I need a couple hundred to get the car back. Then I can get around to look for a new job around here. I’ll pay you back.”
“You’re staying?” Evan says.
Poor, dumb bastard. The hopefulness in his voice is pitiful. I want to slap him upside the head.
Shelley goes to him, hugging his side as she buries her head under his chin. “If you’ll let me. I miss my boys.”
Evan reaches right into his pocket and pulls out several twenties. Probably everything that was left from his last paycheck. “Here’s one-fifty.” He shrugs. “I’ll hit up the ATM for the rest.” Meaning his savings account.
“Thanks, baby.” She kisses his cheek and immediately extricates herself from his arms. “Who wants milkshakes? Like we used to get from the boardwalk? I’m gonna run out real quick for smokes and I’ll bring some milkshakes back for us.”
I’ll be shocked if she’s back before sunrise.
Later in bed, I can’t sleep. I’m racked with tension, still stewing about Shelley. I didn’t bother waiting around to see if she’d materialize with the milkshakes. As soon as she left, Mac and I went to hide in my room. Or rather, I did, and she came to keep me company. Now, she rolls over, and flicks on the bedside lamp.
“I can feel you thinking,” she murmurs, finding me staring at the ceiling fan.
“Yeah. I just … I’m sorry I asked you to do that earlier. My mother took one look at you, your bracelet, your purse, and figured you were loaded.” Resentment tightens my throat. “Shelley never met anyone she couldn’t use. I didn’t want her to know your family has money because, sure as shit, she’d find a way to help herself to some of it.”
“Okay, but that has nothing to do with us.” Mac runs her hand over my chest and rests her head on my arm. “I wouldn’t want you to judge me by my parents, either.”
“She thinks I’m only with you because you’re rich.”
“Yeah? Well, she’s wrong. I know that isn’t true. I mean, hell, you should probably be referring me to collections for that furniture I keep forgetting to pay you for.”