Page 52 of Bad Run

The band around my chest tightens at the mention of my father. I push the ache away and focus on the warmth of Gwen’s cheek in my palm and the softness of her skin. “I like sitting on the floor and listening to you complain.”

“You do?” Gwen looks up at me with sad but hopeful eyes.

“I do.”

The temperature in the room ratchets up ten degrees as we stare into each other’s eyes, and my heart hammers, threatening to break through my ribcage.

As if bound by an irresistible magic that keeps pulling us together, our faces slowly inch forward toward one another. My gaze bounces between Gwen’s mesmerizing eyes and her pouty lips.

I know I should get up and walk away, but it’s been months since I tasted her.

Gwen swipes her tongue over her lips, tempting me to close the distance. She closes her eyes, waiting for me to kiss her.

What the hell am I doing?

At the last second, I turn my head and kiss the corner of her mouth. She gasps at the electrical shock that snaps between us on contact.

As much as I want to kiss her, this isn’t the right time. She’s sad and angry, and still trying to get her head around her father’s betrayal.

And if I ever get to kiss Gwen again, it will not be on the dirty floor of some conference room at work.

Cherishing the feel of her delicate face in my hand, I caress my thumb over the apple of her cheek one last time before dropping my hand and putting some much-needed distance between us. I can’t be trusted, and I’m pretty sure Anson is going to hand me my ass for ditching the meeting.

“Another time, little witch.”

I drop a quick kiss on Gwen’s forehead and then, with every bit of strength I have, I tear myself away from her and the spell she has cast over me.

seventeen

Gwen

Present

“Can you believe this garbage?”

I slam my grandfather’s will on the table with a frustrated growl and pace the length of my kitchen, needing to burn off some of the anger burning me up inside.

“Why was Grandpa Ted such a bastard?” I ask.

I knew my grandfather was a stodgy old man, but this document takes the cake. It’s riddled with clauses and legal jargon I barely understand. Male heirs have different provisions to follow than female heirs. I mean, who even says male and female? It’s as though he couldn’t be bothered to call us his grandchildren.

This last will and testament is like something you see in movies, not in real life. Ted Sr. equates babies to monetary values. Heirs receive a million dollars for the first baby and five hundred thousand for each following one. But if any turn out to be boys, you get a million-dollar bonus.

It’s despicable.

“Gwen, language,” my mother, Dawn, admonishes. She’s at my stove, cooking up one of her weird yet tasty quinoa bowls. At fifty-six, my mom is still an absolute stunner. Like me, she is 5’5”, and has curly blonde hair and deep-blue eyes. “Can you please grab some glasses and the wine out of the fridge?”

“But he is a bastard,” I grumble, doing as I’m told. I grab three white wine glasses and place them on the table, then snag the bottle of chardonnay from the fridge.

“I know, but we shouldn’t speak ill of the dead.” Mom turns around, and a smile pulls at my lips. She’s rocking the apron Jenna bought me as a joke, with the words Just here to stir the pot embroidered on the front, while she’s stirring the pot of quinoa.

“Oh, stuff it, Dawn. My husband was a Grade-A prick.” Grandma Judith—who we affectionately call Juju—looks down at the ground and shouts, “I hope you’re rotting in hell, Teddy.”

Juju is my dad’s mom, and when I say the woman keeps it real, it’s no joke. After my grandfather died, she told everyone she wouldn’t attend his funeral or grieve the man who, in her words, was a disloyal scumbag.

Turns out, my grandfather cheated on Juju a lot, and when she asked for a divorce, he refused because it would look bad for the Evaders, so she stayed with him on the condition that he be discreet with his affairs—because she was never sleeping with him again—and he could not live in her Santa Barbara home.

It’s a fascinating story, one I wish I knew more about. Throughout my childhood, I had no idea. I just thought my grandfather lived in LA because he loved the Evaders more than anything and my grandmother loved the peace of living near the beach.