AllFreeNovel
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Well, youdidtry to steal something of his.
Scratch that.
Something ofmine.
I needed to remember that. It made all the difference.
“You and I aren’t done.” Vera pivoted back to me and wagged her French-manicured finger in my face. “Not by a long shot.”
“Don’t worry,Mommy.” I winked at her. “I’m not going anywhere, whether you like it or not.”
Sure, I had to play by her rules, but that didn’t mean I had to be a good sport.
Nothing about Dad’s death made sense.
It happened at his prime. Sudden and violent.
One moment, he’d stood before a restaurant entrance, waiting for the valet to pull up. And the other, the valet crashed into him at the speed of light.
The tests came back clean.
No alcohol. No drugs.
The valet claimed his foot got stuck on the accelerator and received a five-year sentence. The judge felt sorry for him. For his sick wife. For their innocent baby.
I felt bad for him, too.
But I felt even worse for myself.
That was two years ago, and I was still licking the wounds, which showed no signs of healing.
With a displeased grunt, Vera tromped her way into the living room. Still close enough to eavesdrop, of course.
The minute she evacuated my personal space, I ventured out of the pantry.
“No.” Zach strolled to me, raising one palm. “Stay where you are. Rats fit right into dark holes.”
I slipped out, anyway. “Speaking of dark holes, anyone ever told you you’re an asshole?”
“Not aloud, but I’m sure many share the sentiment.”
On instinct, I drifted to a utensil drawer, yanking it open to arm myself with the sharpest thing I could find.
He slammed it shut with his hip before I could reach for a steak knife.
Killer instincts.
Noted.
Hetsked. “If I were you, I wouldn’t try anything funny.” His colossal frame blocked any path I could take out of here. Not that it mattered now that he knew my identity. There’d be no escaping him. “Not only can I outsmart you, I can also out-kill you. And I am currently very tempted to do so, little thief.”
A burst of pure energy flooded my veins. “Fuck you, big bucks. You and your stupid friends don’t scare me.”
No way had I grown that paranoid the past couple days.
I’d felt someone following me, the little hairs on the back of my neck saluting the stranger each time I entered and exited a newhome to clean.
A private investigator, perhaps, since I doubted these trust-fund babies would ever perform manual labor personally.
