Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
“This is getting toxic, Ava—”
“You’re used to it with that crazy bitch in your life,” she hurls at me, and heat burns through me.
“Don’t speak of her like that.”
She laughs like an evil fucking witch. “Listen to me, Quinn. You needed me, I helped you, and now, you will help me.”
I press my lips together. “If it’s about the money—”
“It’s not,” she demands, her eyes wild, but I see the tears welling up. “It’s about getting out from under their thumbs, and I need you in order to do that.”
She glares at me, and I swallow hard, but I nod.
“Kick her out,” she demands, and I shake my head. “She’s going to ruin everything.”
“No.”
“What?”
“No, she won’t. And I’m not kicking her out unless you’re kicking Yvette out.”
Her body shakes with rage. “I have lived with her for years. You are trying to hold on to a love that isn’t worth it. She left you. Threw you away like trash. Why do you want her around you?” She steps toward me once more. “Don’t you realize she’s only back to get under your skin and make you fall helplessly in love with her before she’ll ruin you all over again? She’s toxic, she’s fucking crazy, and she’s not worth your time. Stop making dumb mistakes and keep your eyes on the prize.” I press my lips together as she steps around me. “Make sure you talk to your parents.”
I close my eyes. “You could ask at dinner Sunday.”
“Fucking hell, I forgot we were invited. Fine, I will.” I feel her stop beside me, and when I look down, she’s watching me. “Will Emery be there?”
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly, and I sure as shit don’t like the slow grin that moves across her lips.
“Maybe she and I will have a little chat.”
I shake my head. “It’s your funeral.”
Ava’s glare could cut glass. “Think I’m scared of your little girlfriend?”
I don’t even correct her. “It doesn’t matter if you’re scared or not. Emery will always take care of herself and those she loves.”
“Which you assume is you?” She lets out a chuckle. “If she loved you even a fraction of the amount you love her, she wouldn’t have left you.”
“I’ve told you many times,” I say through gritted teeth, “I don’t talk about Emery with you.”
I hate the victory in her eyes. “Fine. Do yourself a favor and rein her in, Quinn. I will ruin you if you ruin this.”
I watch as she walks away, getting into her car before I let my shoulders droop. Deep inside, I know I need to tell Emery what is going on. But I also know telling her will result in her doing whatever it takes to get me out of the situation I’m in.
Problem is, there is just no way out.
Chapter
Twelve
Emery
“Brooks! Over here!”
Whiskey Row is pulsing with energy, but I’m glad I can hear Flynn Anderson over the music. Not that it’s as loud up here on the rooftop of the VIP. Apparently Flynn buys himself a VIP spot every month to “scope out the bachelorettes.” He’s following very closely in the steps of his daddy’s single days. I plaster on a huge grin and pull at my skirt that is not covering my ass even in the slightest before I head to where everyone is sitting.
And when I say everyone, I mean the whole fucking clan of the Allen sisters, all of whom are married to retired hockey players. Flynn sits by Dimitri Titov and his girl, Austen McDavid. Beside her is Flynn’s brother, Sawyer. Beside him is Dimitri’s little sister, Katarina, who is laughing at something Journey Titov is showing her on his phone. It’s apparently a cousin party, and I’m the outsider unless my plan works out.
Flynn intercepts me before I can reach the table and takes me by the shoulders to look me over. He is a stunning dude, real tall, trim, and strong. He has blondish-brown hair and a very boyish face still. His blue eyes shine as he wraps me in his arms, hugging me tightly. He’s a very strong hugger. He basically knocks the air out of you, and you have to hold on for dear life before he shakes you to death. I laugh as he does exactly what I prepared for before he leans back and looks me over again. His eyes darken, a little bit of attraction swirling in his blue depths.
Too bad he does absolutely nothing for me.
With a wide, happy grin, he says, “I have to say, you look better in Nashville.”
I snort at that. “You just like how short my skirt is.”
His eyes turn greedy. He chucks my chin. “Fucking right. You got ass for days, Emery.”
“Behave,” I say, but it feels wrong to say that word to him.
It’s only for Quinn to say to me.