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I groan inwardly. No way can I sleep on this mattress now. "Not good enough," Mr. Colton says. "I'll contact them myself. I'll have it delivered this afternoon. In the meantime, take Raya shopping. She's itching to death since your friends got fragments of fiberglass in her clothes. It'll never come out. Grab some stuff to help her dress up the room a bit as well."

"I have to chauffeur her around?" Kade growls.

"No. You have to chauffeur her and carry her bags. You'll do whatever she needs you to do."

Kade rolls his eyes and pockets his hands to keep his father from seeing the fists he's made. I fidget awkwardly, feeling like this is already the biggest mistake I've ever made.

"You call me if he gives you any trouble. I need to get a hold of the furniture shop. Do you need anything else?" he asks, seeming so genuine.

"Um... my clothes are fine," I murmur, not wanting to tell him I don't have enough money to buy more.

"Nonsense," he says, pulling out a black credit card. "Take this and get whatever you need. Have fun with it. Abuse the bagboy as well," he jokes, forcing the card into my hand.

"I can't-"

"Kade, take the girl to some of my shops. They have a better selection. Make sure they dress her right," he says to interrupt me.

"Whatevs," Kade grumbles before walking out, never looking at me again.

"Have fun," Mr. Colton says with a wink, and then he disappears out the door.

I huff as I walk down the stairs, itching and wincing. My body is battered beneath my clothes. I took a hard hit when the ceiling collapsed. This was all just brushed under the rug. The four guys will barely get a slap on the wrist. The school only expelled them because they were the ones who were paying for the bulldozer the idiot quartet crashed, not because they crashed through my house.

Kade wouldn't have suffered any punishment at all if his father hadn't stepped in and made sure to divvy some out. It's nice to know someone thinks of me as brutal punishment. What does that say about me?

I walk out just as Kade pulls his Audi out of the garage. His perfect sea-blue eyes are guarded by designer shades. I hesitate about getting in, especially when he lowers the top. The music is blaring, which means he's either trying to deafen me or keep me from speaking to him.

"Get the hell in," he gripes w

ithout looking at me. "I don't have all damn day."

I huff, but I climb in without further delay. He doesn't even give me the chance to buckle up before he's squealing out in reverse, slinging me to the side when he jerks it hard right to line up with the road.

I squeal, which provokes a menacing smirk from him, and then he starts shifting gears rapidly, throwing us forward. My hands rattle against the seatbelt as I try to snap it, silently praying for someone to save me from this madman. I knew he hated me. Why in the hell did I willingly get into the devil's chariot?

He presses a button that mutes the stereo as he slows down. I let out a sharp breath, feeling my knuckles slowly uncurl from their death-grip on the door.

"Move out and I'll pay your rent anywhere you want to go," he says calmly.

"What?" I ask, bemused.

"I said move out and I'll pay your rent. You can pick any place you want. I don't want to be your bitch, and my father is loving this shit. Get your stuff out of my house, and I'll pay your rent somewhere else. I have my own money."

"Then why let your dad pay for all your shit?" I snark, turning my head away.

He chuckles as he hits another street with a more feasible speed.

"Because I'm not supposed to touch that money. It's part of my trust, but I became eligible to use it when I turned twenty-one. My grandfather has requested I keep it locked up until I finish college. I respect him, so if he asks me not to do something, I try to oblige. In this case, I think he'd agree it was worth touching my trust."

Am I that frigging bad?

"I can't do that," I mumble, looking out at the passing scenery.

"Why? It's basically the same deal my father made you." The hard edge to his tone doesn't go unnoticed. He's such a condescending dick.

"Your father worried you'd do this, so he made me a deal I couldn't refuse when I rode with him to your house."

I swallow hard, recanting that impromptu proposition.


Tags: C.M. Owens Sterling Shore Romance