Page 22 of Endgame

“Yeah.” Dad smirked at me. “I have a son with that same problem.”

The door of the kitchen opened inwards then and in walked my living nightmare looking like my walking dream.

Goddammit.

“What’s going on?” Narrowed grey eyes landed on my face for the briefest of moments before returning to our parents. “Mom?” Dropping her backpack on a chair, Six sauntered past me, not giving me the time of day, and headed straight for the fridge. “What are you doing up so late?”

The white t-shirt with Madame Jory’s logo and tight, black mini skirt did nothing to hide that fucking fabulous figure I knew was underneath her clothes and immediately I was burning mad at her. For being here. For being so fucking sexy. For representing a bad fucking memory…

“I was waiting for you to get in before I went to bed,” Cassidy replied, smiling. “How did your first day go?”

Retrieving a can of coke from the fridge, Six slammed the door shut with her hip and leaned against the fridge. “It was fine.” Snapping open the can, she took a long swig before sighing. “We were doing inventory and stock take after closing tonight so I’m a little tired.”

Dad frowned. “Mercedes, you know you don’t have to –”

“I want to work, Gabe,” Six shot back, casting a warning glare at my father.

I smirked at the sight of this tiny, five feet nothing girl giving my father hell. Dad loved being in charge. His controlling nature and attention to detail were what made him such a success in the business world. A property developer, my father had made a steady fortune – on top of my mother’s already established business – throughout the United States by buying up derelict homes and apartment buildings before turning them around and selling them at a major profit. Watching Six shut him down over something as lame as a part time job in a coffee house made me ridiculously happy and, if I didn’t hate her so much, I’d be sort of proud. But then I remembered that Ididhate her, and my smirk transformed into a grimace.

“Maybe you should roll out a pay-your-own-way rule with your kids,” Six added, casting a glare in my direction. “A part-time job never killed anyone.”

I smirked at her obvious dig.

I had a job; getting our team to state this year. That was my fucking job, and I had a lot of guys’ futures counting on me. I might not need a scholarship, my momma had left me well provided, but Bear did, and Mason, too. Fuck, I had enough in the bank and in trust funds to sit on my ass for the rest of my life if I felt inclined. Of course, I wasn’t going to do that; I had plans on following in my momma’s steps and going for a career in architecture, but Six had a fucking nerve.

This house was mine. That fridge she was leaning against? Mine. The bed she slept in every night? Also mine. She and her momma were in this house right now because I was under the legal age to live alone and my Dad couldn’t exactly abandon me. Not that he had much choice in the matter. Dad wouldn’t have shit without my mother and he knew it. The cars, the houses, the boat he talked about bringing Cass on? They were all funded from the property empiremy motherbuilt, not him. Dad’s fortune was tied up in me.Iwas the heir to her fortune; Dad just happened to be the one controlling the purse strings –myfucking purse strings.

Yeah, I was my father’s meal ticket and he was theirs, which meant I was unintentionally funding this fucking marriage – and every one that had come before it.

“Now that they’re both here, Gabe, we could discuss the boat trip?” Cassidy interjected, drawing me back to the present, as she looked up at my father like he hung the fucking moon.

“Yes!” Dad turned to us and smiled. “As you both know, Cass and I haven’t had much time together since the wedding.”

I snorted.

So did Six.

We both glared at each other.

“I’ve cleared my schedule so we can take a boat trip.”

“Boat?” Six frowned. “What boat? I’m not going on any boat trip.”

“Who said anything about you being invited?” I countered, unable to stop myself from snipping at her. “They don’t want you on their honeymoon, Six.”

“Rourke!”

“When I want your input, I’ll ask,Prick,” she shot back, grey eyes flashing with anger.

“Mercy!”

“Blow me.”

“Rourke!”

Turning her attention back to our parents, Six crossed her arms and asked, “When are you leaving?”

“The end of the month,” Cassidy replied.

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