Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 51131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
There’s no escape, he seems to say.
But he’s wrong. This is my house, not his, and he’s not allowed to be here if I say so.
“Hello, Brent,” I say guardedly, pivoting in the tight space between the cars so I can close my door.
He invites himself in, crossing the threshold and walking toward me. “Lovely day, isn’t it?”
“It sure is. I really can’t talk right now, though. I have to get inside. My daughter’s waiting for me to start dinner.”
“Oh, yeah? What are you ladies having tonight?”
I turn and look pointedly toward the garage door. “I really don’t have time to chat.”
“Come on, now. There’s no reason to be rude.” Ignoring my obvious desire for him to leave, he continues to move closer, his gaze locked on me. “Hey, you know that buddy I was telling you about a long time ago that wanted to move into the neighborhood?”
“Yes.”
“Well, things with wife number two didn’t work out, and she got the house they ended up moving into. That’s how it always works, isn’t it?” he says with a smirk that feels vaguely icky.
“I suppose so,” I murmur, turning to glance longingly at the garage door leading into my home.
“Anyway, he and wife number three are tying the knot in Aruba next month, and when they get back, they’re looking to move into a house. He asked if anything was open in the neighborhood.”
“I believe the Burnhams a street over were looking to sell,” I tell him.
“Already sold.”
“How unfortunate. Well, maybe by the time he gets to wife number four, something will be for sale.” I flash him a smile. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…”
Rather than leave, he moves forward and plants a hand on the wall to block me from continuing toward the door. “It must be a lot of work keeping up this whole house on your own.” His hard gaze meets mine as he leans closer. “Scary, too. You never know what kind of things can happen to a woman living alone.”
I try to back away but only bump into the shelving unit along the wall. “I don’t live alone.”
“Right,” he says with a subtle nod. “Two women living alone.”
His words and tone fill me with such unease that I lose my manners completely. “Get out of my garage and off my property.”
“There’s no reason to be rude,” he says. “Just being neighborly. Since yours is the only house in the neighborhood without a pool, tell your daughter she can put on a little bikini and swing by my place anytime.”
Fury ignites in my veins. “I said get off my property.”
“Now, Gemma,” he says, deliberately condescending, as he grabs my wrist and pushes me back against the shelving unit. “There’s no reason to be hysterical.”
Just then, the door swings open, and my daughter, Parker, pokes her head out. “Mom?”
My instinct is to tell her to go back into the house, but when Brent’s lewd stare turns in her direction, I lose my ability to speak. Fear rushes through me, knocking out my muscles and turning my arms and legs to jelly.
Even though I’m certain he’s only doing this in his latest bid to run me out, it doesn’t matter.
You don’t fuck with my daughter.
“Get out,” I growl.
Surprise flits across his features as his gaze shifts back to mine. “Don’t worry, I was just leaving.” He releases my arm and takes a step back, but my legs still feel as sturdy as Jell-O.
“Remember what I said,” he calls as he backs away. “If you change your mind about staying, my buddy will give you a fair price.”
Parker stays in the doorway, watching until he’s gone.
Finally, her gaze shifts to me, protectiveness etching lines of concern across her pretty face. “Are you all right? You look pale.”
“I have had it,” I say, each word measured carefully. “I am done with the bullying from these overgrown children. I am done. I have every right to be here, and they have no right to treat me this way.”
“Agreed,” she says. “But without any evidence to prove they’re behind all this crap, I don’t know what we can do.”
I nod slowly. “Well, I’m going to find out.” I look over at Parker. “You go to school with a bunch of rich kids. Surely, some have parents who are lawyers. Who is the best lawyer you can think of? The meanest, most aggressive, most successful lawyer around. If one of your classmates got into trouble and their rich mommies and daddies could call anyone to defend them, who would they call?”
“That’s easy,” Parker says without hesitation. “Satan’s dad. Hayden Atwater.”
I nod once. “Then I’m going to see Hayden Atwater.”
“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. There’s no way we can afford him,” Parker tells me, but it’s too late. I’m already heading back to the car. “Wait, you’re going now? You can’t go now! Even if we could afford him, you’d need an appointment. You need—Mom, stop. Come inside. Let’s think about this first.”