Page 17 of Pills and Potions: Kase
My eyes widen. “Guilty?”
He nodded slowly. “Yeah. Like I’m wasting something that could actually be real,” he paused, then continued. “I wanted to kiss you the night of my grand opening.”
Just as the words hung in the air like they needed time to settle, his phone started buzzing on the desk, vibrating hard against the wood. He glanced down. The name lit up in bold letters:“Dad.”
Kase cursed under his breath but didn’t answer it. I was hoping he wouldn’t shut down and stop telling me the truth, but then his assistant knocked and came through the door, interrupting our moment.
“Kase, your father said he tried calling your cell. He’s about to call you again.”
Just like that, his whole body shifted. The softness vanished like it was never there. That familiar wall snapped back into place, brick by brick. He stood up, grabbing his phone off the desk as it buzzed.
“Yeah?” he answered, voice clipped. “I’m in the office. What you need?”
Pause.
“Now?”
He turned, giving me a quick glance over his shoulder. “Yeah… alright.”
He ended the call, and the silence that followed was stiff, thick like fog.
“I should go,” I said, rising to my feet, even though my chest was tight.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “Probably best.”
It stung, but I didn’t let it show. Wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
“Thanks for the talk,” I said, and walked past him without looking back.
I stepped out the club and let the air hit me like a slap. The wind whipped at my hoodie, the night stretching out in front of me. But I wasn’t mad. Honestly, the pill worked. Kase had told me everything I needed to know. The way he looked at me. The way he unraveled. The confessions that slipped out between bites of cookie were raw, ugly, and unfiltered truth. And all of it was real. No games. No ego. Just the man behind the performance. I reached into my bag and felt for the tiny vial still tucked safely inside,Mirror Me.Honestly, I felt like I wouldn’t need it since I knew the truth about how Kase felt.
Chapter 5
Kase Madoxx
Being at this damn restaurant with my pops and his girlfriend, formerly known as his mistress, was the last thing I wanted to do tonight. But the man was persistent. When he wanted to playDaddy of the Year, he didn’t stop until you sat at his damn table. I glanced around the place, all dim lighting and overpriced seafood, where the staff looked you up and down like they were mentally checking your net worth. Malia was already seated when we got there, posted next to my father like she belonged, real smug, real polished, real damn annoying. Her nails matched her lip liner, both blood red, and she kept flashing that “I won” smile like anybody wanted the damn prize. I couldn’t stand that woman. Refused to give her a hug or anything close to respect, out of loyalty to the queen who brought me into this world. My mom was devastated after the divorce. Pops barely flinched. Just went and upgraded to a younger woman, like that made him more of a man. Shit, my mother did everything so he could live out his dream and rise up, while he barely did that because he was always on the road and not giving a damn about anyone but himself.
Shit, maybe I wasn’t much better.
Messing with Denise, knowing damn well she had a husband... maybe part of me wanted to ruin someone else’s shit like my family got ruined. It was like some broken piece of me was still pissed off from growing up watching my mom cry while our father played house somewhere else.
Jace slid into the booth across from me, bumping my knee like he already felt me heating up. He was supposed to be on a drive that evening, but when I told him Pops requested a “family dinner,” he pushed it back. Said he didn’t trust me to behave. He was a smart man. Compared to Jace, I was more vocal about our father being ain’t shit and not doing anything for us, other than providing.
Pops was already sipping brown liquor like he was the one under pressure. “So,” he said, smoothing his napkin across his lap, “how’s the new club doing?”
“Solid,” I said, leaning back. “Opened strong.”
“And Voltage?”
“Still running. I don’t miss.”
He chuckled, real proud of himself, then looked over at Malia. “Told you. Boys got the hustle. Came straight from me.”
I smirked, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “You gave me guilt money and a broken name. The hustle? I built that on my own.”
The table went still. Even Malia’s eyes grew big, like she wasn’t sure if I was joking. Truthful? I wasn’t. And I didn’t care to be. I glanced at Jace, who raised a brow but didn’t say a word.
Pops leaned back slow, drink in hand. “That’s supposed to mean something?”
