“By saying no,” I answer dryly.
She shoves my arm, nearly shoving me off the side of the couch, before I regain my balance.“It’s not that big of a deal.”
“When are you going to stop doing everything he tells you to?”I ask.The words aren’t sharp, they’re defeated.How can she not see it?The truth?
Cobie shakes her head.“I don’t?—”
“You do,” I push.“You know you do.”
“Okay, maybe I do,” she concedes.She looks back at her lap, slowly tracing the swirl of Rainbow Dash’s tail.“But if I can just…if I can get Dad’s approval, then…”
“I think you’re forgetting who our father is,” I argue.Buzzing hits my ears while I fight the urge to stand and pace the room.Instead, I keep my ass planted where it is as I tell her the truth, no matter how much it makes me the bad guy.“Because you’ll never have his approval, Cobes.Never.You can be a goddamn saint, and he still won’t give it to you.”
A slight wobble hits her bottom lip, proving I’ve hit my mark.
Damn, I really am a bastard.
“That’s enough,” someone orders with a sharpness that, bluntly put, would make most men piss themselves.
I glance toward the stairs leading to the second floor.Roman watches us from the top of them.I wonder how much he heard.His hands are balled into fists as he leans against the wall, though I see right through it.His nonchalance.Nah, my boy’s pissed, but I can’t decide if it’s because of something that transpired before he walked in on my conversation with Cobie or if it’s because…I was having a blunt conversation with Cobie.To be fair, he’s always had a soft spot for my baby sister.We all have.However, Iamsurprised he’s sticking his nose in our family’s shit.“You know I’m not wrong, Rome,” I tell him.
And it’s true.He’s been around long enough to see who my father is when the cameras aren’t around.The way he talks about money.About the family business.About his sons and his daughter.About people who are less fortunate.Who need help.Like Roman himself, before we befriended him.Brought him in.Gave him a place to stay.A family.Not that he didn’t have one, but his mom worked two jobs to put food on the table, and his older brother, Rafe, spent more time pushing drugs than playing big brother, leaving Roman to fend for himself until our paths crossed.Then he saw firsthand who the real Titas Harden was.
Roman’s jaw clicks.“I said, that’s enough.”
He’s right.But so am I.And we both know it, even if he refuses to admit it out loud.The sooner my little sister comes to terms with who our father isn’t, the sooner she’ll get out from under his thumb and will put a stop to his manipulation.But how do I say that without hurting her in the process?Coming to terms with your father being a selfish prick isn’t a picnic.I should cut her some slack.
Squeezing the back of my neck, I take a deep breath, grounding myself.“Look, I’m sorry,” I tell Cobie.“I shouldn’t have been an ass, okay?I was out of line.”
“It’s fine?—”
“No, it’s not.Today’s been a bitch, but it’s no excuse.”I slide from the couch’s arm and onto the cushion beside her.With a gentle squeeze of her knee, I silently demand her full attention when it’s clear she’d rather stare at the childhood blanket in her lap.“Tell me, why are you asking the money man about this event?”I push.
She shakes her head.“Forget it.”
“Tell me.”
She peeks up at me.“Because I need to earn or…wantto earn at least twenty grand for the night.”
Something about her word choice niggles the back of my brain.The way she corrects herself.The way she has a specific number in mind.The question is, did she come up with it, or did Daddy Dearest?Does it even matter?I glance up to where Roman was standing, curious if he heard the same strange inflection I did, but he’s already gone, disappearing into his room.I shift my attention back to Cobie.“Want, huh?”I challenge.
Moving a few inches away from me, she crosses her arms and gives me a pointed look.“I thought you said you were done being an ass?”
Keeping myself in check is harder than I expected.
Scrubbing my hand over my face again, I mutter, “Okay, twenty grand.Have you brainstormed anything else?”
“Well, I don’t want it to be a stuffy, old-person event, you know?”
“Not stuffy.Not for old people.What else?”
“Something a little…out of the box?”Her mouth scrunches to one side.“I was kind of thinking like…a service auction, maybe?Where some of the younger guys and girls can volunteer their time to help older people clean their yards or do the dishes or pick up their groceries or, you know, service stuff.”
Service stuff?Sweet, naive little Cobie.Does she not know what town she’s in?Anyone interested in attending an event for charity already has people hired to handle menial tasks like the ones she mentioned.However, I can think of one or two things a guy would love to get serviced.I bite back my mirth, attempting to rein in my assholery, even when it feels impossible.
Actually, it’s not a bad idea.
Now, how do I make it legit instead of, you know, prostitution-esque?A dating auction, maybe?Yeah, that could work.Highest bidder gets a date with a pretty girl.We could reach out to a few sororities.Maybe call in a few favors with?—
