Page 133 of Wicked Deceit
"A clinic?" Zepp asks, rearing back.
"For his obvious drug addiction," she says with the wave of her hand again at my crazy outburst, which causes me to bark out another laugh.
"Here, here, fuck," I wheeze, digging into my wallet and throwing my license at her. She catches it with ease from her seated position and furrows her brows. "See? I'm Seger fucking West. The real fucking deal." I turn to Zepp with a gigantic grin and murmur, “I think she and Kace would get along fucking fine.”
Zepp side-eyes me with a snort and steps up to the counter and flips open his wallet. Her jaw drops, and our shit falls to the counter.
"The fuck you doing here? Listen, the shit I said about Dad, I….." I hold up a hand, stopping her before she says more.
"Dad was the biggest fucking cock on the planet when he was alive…"
"We're not here to discuss a dead man's shortcomings. We're here to discuss your inheritance," Zepp says, gaining her complete and utter attention.
She swallows hard and shakes her head. "I don't want his fucking money. I don't want anything from the piece of shit. He kicked me and Ma out without anything but the clothes on our backs. Ma dragged us back here, and we've lived on food stamps and the medical card for fucking years. I don't need a damn dime from Corbin West," she hisses, jumping to her feet. "I've done fucking fine without him."
I swallow hard at her swollen stomach, protruding from a long band shirt and small shorts when she stands behind the counter, earning me a frown.
“What? You’ve never seen a pregnant woman before?” She chides, narrowing her eyes at me with so much suspicion I could choke on it. This girl will be a hard fucking nut to crack, but I have a feeling once we have her trust, we’ll be bonded for life.
I snort, running a hand down my face. “Sure I have. It’s just fucking uncanny, you’re as far along as our wife. Twenty-eight weeks, right?” I eye her up and down as her hand flies to her stomach, and her nose scrunches.
“Um, yeah,” she says quieter than she was before, nibbling on the bottom of her lip.
"Do you have time for lunch?" Zepp asks, gesturing toward a diner across the street.
She licks her lips when a loud rumble erupts from her stomach, and she hangs her head.
"Now that you know we're really your brothers, we have some shit we'd like to discuss with you. And I think you want to hear it." I lick my lips when she finally meets my eyes, and I see the indecision resting in their depths. She's fighting with herself and losing the mental battle to push us away.
"Let's get some burgers, fries, and hell—a milkshake. We really do have things to discuss with you. Big things," Zepp tacks on with a convincing voice.
She licks her lips again and finally sighs. "Fine. Class was fucking boring today, anyway. Who cares about the history of business bullshit. Take me to lunch, but don't expect me to take a damn handout," she gripes, shutting her computer down, and closing it. She picks up a small backpack style purse and flings it over her shoulder, before grabbing a set of keys off the counter.
Looking down at my spunky ass sister, I fight the smile trying to take over my lips. Yeah, she's definitely a fucking West with her hard head and fucking stubborn ways. But we'll wear her down and gift her the fucking dream of a lifetime.
"Hold the Weiner," she says, putting a finger in the air. Her entire body trembles, and her mouth hangs open. "Twenty million dollars? Shut the front door," she gasps, slumping in the bench as the waitress drops off her strawberry milkshake and mounds of food. "I just…I can't…he just…" she stutters, shoving a handful of fries into her mouth and moans.
"Twenty million is just the tip of the iceberg, River. More will be deposited, according to our father's lawyer. He left money for each of you…"
"Each of us?" She asks, slurping her milkshake in a few gulps. "You've met…."
"All fucking fourteen of the West children, yeah. We've been down that road, and you, dear sister, are the last damn one," I mumble, shoving my cheeseburger into my mouth. "Fuck. Nothing beats a quaint little diner’s burger," I moan around my food, taking another bite.
"Animal," Zepp grumbles, taking an itty bitty bite of his burger like the gentleman he thinks he is.
My ears perk up as a song blares over the speakers, and a familiar singer's voice washes over me. I swear that Kieran Knight has a way with his raspy voice to fucking draw you in and get his claws in you.
Normally, owners don't mix in with their talent, letting the agents handle everything, and only intervening when money is involved. But that's what sets West Records apart from everyone else. We're front and center for our Battle of the Bands, and we intermingle with the people who trust us to thrust their careers.
"Is this?" Zepp asks, tilting his head.
"Fucking right it is. They're hella fucking talented, and I can't believe they came out of nowhere," I say with a grin, turning back to our sister.
Her face pales and moisture pools above her lip. A mist takes over the depths of her green eyes, and her breath shudders. Her hand rubs the length of her stomach. A silent alarm flips in the back of my mind at her glazed over expression, alerting me to something….odd.
"Whispered Words," she mutters, her once shocked face shifting to rage. A vein pounds in her reddened forehead, and her lips twist into an angry scowl.
"Uh, yeah. That's them. They won our battle of the bands like seven months ago and have taken the world by storm. They're absolutely…"
