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My dad sat in his chair, which was the same as my mom’s throne—as she and I called it—but only where Mom’s was white, Dad’s was black. Both of them had high back pieces that wrapped around their shoulders and arms.
Mom started pacing up and down, one hand on her hip and the other over her chin. My mom was beautiful really. She had short brown hair that cut around her jaw and sharp, prominent features. I didn’t have much of a relationship with her because she was always on the road. “I don’t like this.”
“Like, what?” Dad rested his ankle on his kneecap, grabbing his cigar and clipping it. My eyes darted between the two of them.
My mom stilled, her eyes narrowing on Dad. Oh, this was about to get interesting, so I wiggled into the sofa more, resting my head back against the top of the couch, my eyes now directly on the ceiling above.
“You knew I didn’t like that woman, yet, you saved her? She was” —my mom faltered, and God, was that emotion in her voice?— “what she did, I will not agree with, Hector!”
“—you don’t agree because you have never understood this life, Scarlet.”
Their bickering died off in the distance until my mom’s voice snapped me out of my slumber. “Bishop!”
I sat up. “What?”
“Get that girl out of my house, too. I don’t like her.”
“Who, Khales?”
My mom just stared at me, or should I say glared. I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, I’d love that, but Dad was the one who invited her in.”
Mom snapped her attention back to Dad. “Get rid of her, Hector. I mean it.” Then she reached into her handbag, pulling out a set of keys. “I guess now’s a good time to do this, then…”
Dad stood to all his six-foot-three-inches. “Not now, Scarlet.”
She threw her hand up to stop him from talking. “Shut it. Since you like to go ahead and make decisions without me, I’m making this one.” She looked back at me and her angry features softened. She smiled a little, and then tossed a set of keys onto my lap.
“Congratulations, son. Happy birthday.”
I picked up the keys, looking at them in confusion. “Wait, what’s the date?”
Mom walked toward me and took a seat on the sofa beside me. “It’s not until this weekend, I know, but I figured I’d give you the keys now.”
I searched her eyes, and noticed for the first time how they looked tired. She had fine lines almost surfacing at the edges of them and her deep dimples looked more like smile lines. “Mom, I don’t think I need another car…”
“It’s not a car…”
My face lit up. “Wait, you got me my own jet?”
My dad turned his back on us. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
Mom giggled, her hand resting over mine. “Not today, honey. It’s your own condo in New York City. Penthouse, because only the best for my boy.” Her hand came up to my cheek. My throat swelled, information floating inside my head.
“You bought me an apartment?”
She nodded. “Yep! The best one I could find that was close to NYU.”
“—If he attends college,” Dad’s interruption went unnoticed.
She pulled me in for a hug before I had a chance to thank her. “When am I going to meet this Swan girl? Color me intrigued…”
I let out a pent-up breath, relaxing back into the sofa with the keys balled in my fist. “Probably never.”
“What’d you do?” Her tone was accusatory, with good reason. She knew me and my father well.
“That’s the thing, aside from keeping secrets from her, I did everything right. Never cheated, never did any shady shit.”
“Keeping secrets is a big thing, son. And I’m guessing she has found out about Elizabeth and you, and also, the walking slut in the next room.” A laugh exploded out from me. Hearing a crass word come out of my mom’s mouth was humorous.
She stood, squeezed my hand again and looked to Dad quickly. “Whatever it is, give her time. But don’t let her make a joke of you.” She straightened her shoulders and carefully straightened her blouse. “Now, hate to love and leave my poster family, but I have to go back to LA where we’re filming.” Yeah, I bet. Just before she exited the room, I called out, “Hey, Mom?”
She turned to me. “Yeah?”
“Thanks for the apartment.”
“Bishop just texted me,” Nate announced, going for another plate. My mom wasn’t here for long before I said if she didn’t leave, I would.
Leaning back in my chair, I took a sip of orange juice. “Saying what?” I already started to feel confused about how I was beginning to be forgiving, even a little guilty about how irrational I had been with Nate. He wasn’t mine. Neither was Brantley, and Bishop had always said time and time again that if anything happened between me and another King, he’d take care of it and make sure consequences were filled. I lashed out. He slept with my fucking mom. This was beginning to get more twisted than even I cared to admit.
