I didn’t even want to know how she knew about such things. “Shit happens.”
“I swear, Josephine, you need to be more aware and responsible. Just because we live in a nicer part of town doesn’t mean bad things can’t happen.”
I choked.No shit. I’m living with a fucking monster.
“I called the house and was told you didn’t come home last night. Where are you?” she demanded, miffed that she’d had to track me down.
How many mimosas had she already had this morning? Three? Five? “I’m staying at a friend's.”
“Did you and Carter have another fight?” she asked, and I could picture her pressing a hand to her temples as if a headache brewed.
My gaze met Brock’s. “Why would you ask that?” Had Carter already said something to her or his father?
“I know the two of you don’t exactly get along, but please, Josephine, don’t make trouble.” This time her voice turned pleading, bordering desperate. She was preparing her woe-is-me act.
Yet again, I was at fault. It was somehow me that was the reason Carter and I couldn’t stand each other. I scoffed. “This is menotmaking trouble.”
“Fine,” she sighed. “I expect you home for dinner on Sunday.”
Brock stiffened beside me and shook his head. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to make it,” I said.
Her response came through quickly and sharp. “This is not negotiable.”
“Kind of like you marrying Steven. Got it.” I had no intention of showing up for dinner.
“Josephine, so help me God, I’ll see you—”
Brock reached over and hit the end button, cutting off Angie’s goodbye. “Wow, your mother is a piece of work.”
I stared at the blank phone. “She is one of a fucking kind. And she isn’t my mother, not really.”
Chapter Four
The doorbell rang, echoing through Brock’s house in a chiming pattern. It was about three in the afternoon, and Brock and I’d just started a movie. He hit the pause button and checked the security cam on his phone. “I’ll be right back. And there better be popcorn left.”
It wasn’t bad hanging out at Brock’s house. It was nice, and he somehow managed to keep my mind off all the other stuff. But when left alone, even for only a minute, my mind went right there.
Neither of us had forgiven the other, but a silent truce had been agreed upon, at least for the day. We both needed twenty-four hours to decompress.
Curious, I leaned over the couch and listened to the voices coming from down the hallway. They grew louder. Whoever was at the door, it wasn’t a solicitor, not that they could get through the security gate.
I tossed aside the throw blanket and stood up, setting the bowl of buttered popcorn aside on the end table. I padded quietly down the hall, keeping to the wall. For a second, I had a horrible feeling someone I didn’t want to see stood at the door, like my mother.
“I know she’s here. Now get out of my way.” A pushy female voice echoed from the foyer.
“Mads?” I said, rounding the corner.
And there she was—my best friend from the Academy. Actually, she was the only friend I had at school. I wouldn’t exactly call the Elite friends. They were…something else. I hadn’t figured it out yet.
White knights?
Fallen angels?
A bit of both, I decided.
Her dark brown hair sat in a ponytail high on her head, wisps of honey highlights framing her cheekbones. Gray eyes shifted over Brock’s shoulder to my face. The frown on her lips remained as she crossed the threshold, straight for me.
“Josie,” she sighed. “You’re alive.” Mads wrapped me in a tight hug. She smelled like mint gum, sweet electric perfume, and faint traces of smoke.