Are you watching this, Dad? The illusion you crafted is crumbling. Your favorite “daughter” is about to see you for who you are. This is just a taste of the ugly and cruel world you made me create from the broken pieces of your shattered dynasty.
After I burn his legacy to the ground and force her to realize the evil of the man Payton idolizes, leave her poor, then, and only then, will I walk away.
“I—” she starts, but I stop her.
“Don’t want to hear it, princess. Get out of my house. Go somewhere. I can’t stand to look at your face for another second.”
“I have no place to go . . . you took everything.”
“They were never yours to have.” I stalk toward her, enjoying the emptiness of this place. “And frankly, not my problem. Leave, Payton. But know this isn’t over.”
“I have nothing left for you to take.”
“That’s what you think. It wouldn’t be fun to just tell you my plan, now, would it?”
She doesn’t respond, and I’m happy about that.
Instead, she storms out of my house.
The house I bought just to fuck with her.
Mature? No.
Fun? Hell yeah.
She is right about one thing; I am a dick, but I’m not about to let this girl walk alone at this time of night. I wait a minute before heading out. As soon as she has a reasonable head start, I follow her.
This neighborhood is safe, but you still can’t be sure.
After what happened to my sister, I wouldn’t do that to anyone, even if I hate everything she stands for.
She walks in the direction I expect her to—toward her friend’s place—and knocks on the door.
Her body is pressed up against it as if she is afraid.
A few seconds pass, but then it opens, and she throws her arms around her friend, holds her, then pulls away.
A single moment of weakness.
Because once she’s a few feet away from her, Payton stands straight. Her actions make her uncomfortable.
Interesting.
I file that away in my brain.
Another thing I have learned about Payton.
She doesn’t want to appear weak in front of her friend, not just me.
Good to know.
This I can use.
I smile to myself as I watch the door close.
Soon, she will be exactly where I want her to be.
Begging for mercy.
Unfortunately, she won’t get that from me.
10
Payton
* * *
Rubbing my eyes, I see I’m not alone in the living room. But this time, unlike last night, the eyes are friendly and don’t belong to anyone who wants to kill me.
“Morning.”
“Good morning to you. How did you sleep?” Heather raises an eyebrow.
“Great.” I smile. “Thank you for letting me stay here.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “Of course, I would let you stay here. You know you never have to ask, right?”
I nod, knowing full well I’m going to have to come clean about everything that happened last night.
“I made coffee. It’s in the kitchen,” she says.
“Wait. There’s no room service or, in my case, living room service? What kind of place are you running here?” I say sarcastically.
“The kind of place that opens the door at three o’clock in the morning with no questions asked.”
She does have a point. I wryly smile, nod, and stand from the couch, pushing down my sweatshirt that has risen. I follow her into the kitchen.
Just as promised, my coffee is in a mug and ready for me at the table. Something tells me this will be a serious chat, and Heather isn’t going to let me off the hook about last night.
Pulling out a chair, I take a seat. Then I lift the mug to my mouth. If we have a long talk, I’ll need all the caffeine she’s offering.
Heather sits in the chair opposite me. She’s not drinking her coffee, just waiting for me to get enough fuel in me to hold a proper conversation.
“Why didn’t you come to me in the first place?” she asks as I place my mug back down on the table.
“It was late.”
She shakes her head, not buying what I’m selling. “That is no excuse, and you know it.”
I try again. “I didn’t want to wake you . . . ?”
“Again, not a good reason. Plus, eventually, you did anyway.”
She has me there.
“I know.” I look down toward my bare feet. “I was embarrassed,” I admit.
A long-drawn-out sigh escapes her mouth. “Payton, we have been best friends for years. There’s no need to be embarrassed in front of me. We all have been in a bad place before.”
“Thanks for not asking questions when I showed up at your door.”
“One look at you, and I knew you wouldn’t have been able to answer anyway. But now that I know you need help, it’s a different story. Tell me. Tell me everything you have managed to leave out up to this point.”
And then I do. I start from the little bits I now know and fill her in up until last night.