Page 141 of House of Payne
Fucking asshole.
How in the hell can I protect London from him without him learning what she is to me, and how much I’ve grown to care about her?
He won’t hesitate to use her against me, and that won’t be the worst part.
What Mathew does will be nothing compared to what our father will.
Come on, take the bait, take the bait…
Matthew downs his drink and wipes a hand across his mouth. “I think I’ll stick around for a while.”
I cross over to him and pour a drink. I let my eyes move over his face, slowly, intently while my mind races.
“You might as well help me figure this out then. It’s the fucking Everetts and Fitzpatricks,” I say. “They’ve been trying to cut us out for a while.”
Mathew’s eyebrows raise. “Father know about this?”
“I’ve tried to tell him, but he won’t hear it. Today was only the beginning. They’re gunning for us, and I’ll be damned if I don’t give them the fight of their lives.”
Mathew frowns. “It’s a good thing I’m here.”
I brush past him and sit behind my desk. Slowly, I link my fingers and offer him a bored look. “Let’s talk business.”
Mathew’s smile falls, but he quickly recovers and strides over to me. He stops on the other side of the desk and tilts his head. “Let’s talk business.”
***
London
I push myself off the edge of the bed and frown. “You should get that looked at. I don’t think what I did earlier was enough. I’m not a doctor.”
Mason presses his mouth into a thin, white line. “Didn’t I tell you it was nothing to concern yourself with? I don’t like having to repeat myself.”
I swallow. “I know, but…”
Mason covers the distance between us, and there’s a dark gleam in his eyes. “I don’t have time for this today. Think before you open your fucking mouth, or I’ll give you something to shut you up.”
I jerk back as if I’ve been slapped. “I was just expressing concern. There’s no need to get wound up.”
Especially not after what happened in the living room.
My skin still burns from his touch, and my mouth is still tingling.
God help me, but I want to finish what we started.
Even the memory of Carlisle walking in on us isn’t enough to make me take it back.
I don’t think anything is.
Why am I not more concerned?
Mason mutters something and takes a step back. “Don’t you have something else to do?”
I scowl. “What the hell is your problem?”
I’m regretting going to the guest room when every instinct told me to run in the opposite direction.
Mason’s eyes flash. “Right now, my problem is you. You need to doas you’re told. We are not playing house.”
