AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Gullible little bunny,” I sneered.
“Fuck you, Rook.”
“That’s what you keep saying, but I don’t see you spreading those legs.”
“That’s not what I want.” She balked, and I smiled, wiping where my lip was still burning from her kiss.
“You’re right, Summer. If you won’t leave, then go back to Tucker. He’ll protect you. Marry you. And you can have a nice little house on the bay with a nice, white picket fence, two point five children, and a nice dog.” Pulling down her lower lip, I pressed one last kiss, whispering against them, “But don’t be deceived, little bunny. You’re not safe here.”
CHAPTER 21
Summer
I sat in my car, my chest squeezing so tight, I could barely breathe. My eyes were burning, my heart in my throat. Intense sadness welling up inside me.
I ran my fingers under my eyes, wiping away the tears. Shoring myself up for what I was about to do.
Last night, I’d realized one important thing.
If Rook was right, then I was in a shitload of trouble. And, not only me, but Callie.
I had to do the one thing I’d promised I wouldn’t—the one thing that was ripping me apart. And yet, the one and only thing that could get me out of this.
I was going to sell Darkmoor Manor.
Leave behind the safety and comfort of home.
The bay where my mom and I would walk.
The smell of my dad’s study.
Their graves.
Their legacy.
Grief struck me—I was losing them all over again.
But, it would be worth it. To keep Callie safe.
I’d done research on what I could remember from the contract, frustrated I hadn’t asked for a copy. With the few words I could remember—why on earth did it have to be written in Latin—there was a clause to get out of it.
I’d already cancelled my last appointment and set up this appointment with Olivia, expecting to use a substantial amount from the house sale to settle the contract.
I glanced at the address on my phone again, then up at the building, nerves making my stomach clench. It was the right address, alright.
The small house was old. Whitewashed paint, now gray and peeling. Broken windows, the roof, patchy and overgrown with moss. I peeked towards the windows, but they were cloudy with smoke and grime.
As I approached, the cracks in the driveway made me think of the saying, step on a crack, break your mother’s back. Except my mother was dead and gone—and, as soon as the house was sold, I would probably never be allowed to visit her grave again.
Gathering myself, I knocked, and the sound echoed ominously before Olivia’s pinched face appeared in the doorway.
“Miss Duvall,” her voice stiff and filled with scorn as she stared down her nose at me. “You’re late.”
“Thank you,” I snarked. It felt good to use my voice with her. "It's an art form.”
The soft creak of a chair in the corner had Olivia stifle her—what I was sure to be—scathing response, her gaze moving to the shadows beyond.
"Miss Duvall," a cold, familiar voice had me straightening. Olivia stepped backwards, moving between me and the doorway.
