Page 259 of Chaos Kills

I give a dismissive shrug. “Should’ve. At least she’d play her part.”

Bay steps forward, and there’s danger in that step. She’s ready to do what her boy did the other day, and I couldn’t care less. “And what fucking part is that?”

“You’re playin’ a very dangerous game here, McQueen. Emilio Wildes is in that house, acting the part of a devoted dad while bragging about his newly found daughter. This would probably be the time where you kiss his ass and get on his good side.”

“Doesn’t sound very in-character for me.”

“We all play a part.”

She eyes me for a moment before asking, “And what’s yours? The brother who can’t handle heartbreak, so he gets high and drunk all the time so the others can babysit him?”

This bitch.

“Don’t worry about my dynamic with my brothers or what we do,” I grind out. “It doesn’t concern you anymore. And I’d call it more of a cop-out and betrayal than heartbreak. You said shit, you lied, now you wanna be mad about it.”

“I’m not mad at you for hating me,” she counters tersely. “I’m upset you’re going to hurt yourself.”

I wave a dismissive hand in the air. “Don’t sweat me and focus on your game.”

“This benefits both of us?—”

“You’re not gonna get a cookie from me if you pull this off.” My focus falls down the front of her, thick thighs barely covered by any fabric. “I’d be semi-impressed if you did.”

“Is that all?”

“Sure, continue with your escape.”

Her red-painted lips curl upward. “I can’t yet.”

I open my mouth to press on why when my mother’s voice cracks through the air like a whip, and my whole body turns rigid at the sound.

“My, my,” she coos sweetly, the sound of heels against concrete ticking at my nerves. “What kind of scandalous happenings are taking place out here?”

Neither Bay nor I utter a word. Maybe it’s because we can both sense bullshit when we hear it.

My mother comes to my side, stopping just short of Bay, and the smell of musk and roses fills my nostrils, turning it in several knots.

“I have a few people I’d like you to meet, Miss Astor,” she extolls. “I was hoping I could steal you away.”

“She can’t,” I cut in. “She promised me a dance.”

And I wanna fuck.

It’s been too long since I’ve had Bay Astor, and I’m having withdrawals. No addiction is ever good.

That’s what makes them so fucking great.

“Of course,” my mother replies with a smile. “Later, then?”

“Sure.”

“And why don’t you come to dinner one night? Bring Reeve for me, sweetheart. He never comes home anymore and?—”

“I can’t,” Bay retorts before I see her swallow. “We’re not dating anymore…and I’m married.”

My eyes bore into her face, but she doesn’t seem to notice. What I wouldn’t do right now to wrap my palm around her throat and hike up the material of her dress just to show her how much she’s missing out on.

What we could’ve been.

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