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“By the way, there’s a dead bird outside by the front door,” I shout back before slipping into my room and closing the door.
He’s been our head of security for years, for as long as I can remember. Over the years I think I’ve probably spent more time with him than I have my dad. It makes me sad that he’s given up all his time to protect us—from what, God only knows—when he could have had a family of his own to care about, but he’s never given me even a hint that he wants any of that, and I don’t feel it’s my place to ask. So I allow him to train me in whatever martial art he feels like each time he gets me into our home gym, and I let out a little of the aggression I seem to always carry around with me.
Between him, gymnastics, cheer, and cutting down whatever bitch decides to have a go at me, I’ve found a way to channel my inner badass bitch. Mostly.
Happily, I rip off my school uniform. I throw my shirt in the laundry and hang the rest up, ready for what I’m sure will be an interesting second day at Knight’s Ridge College. The first has certainly been eventful.
I pull on a pair of shorts, a sports bra and tank before heading back down to find my sneakers and then Calvin, who’s more than likely already warming up in the basement.
I discover I’m right, long before I get down the stairs, because the rhythmic sound of his feet hitting the treadmill finds its way up to me.
“Right, where do you want me?” I say the second I walk into our state-of-the-art home gym.
Just like all the other houses we’ve lived in, I know Calvin had a hand in designing it, but it’s by far the most extensive one we’ve had when it comes to equipment. It does make Dad’s promise of this being it for us ring a little more true. But even still, I’ll take it with a grain of salt.
“Warm up then kick-boxing.”
A smile curls at my lips as I imagine going to town on both Seb and his blonde hussy.
“Sounds like a plan, boss.”
By the time he’s finished with me, I’m covered in sweat, my makeup from the day is leaking down my face, and my hair’s stuck to the back of my neck, but my muscles ache in the most delicious way as I drag my weak, exhausted body back up the stairs to shower, ready for dinner.
Dad is waiting for me in the kitchen with Angie when I finally emerge almost an hour later.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he says, a wide smile curling at his lips. “Did you have a good day?”
“Oh, you know. Same shit, different place.”
“Stella,” he warns, his voice low and dangerous. Only it doesn’t scare me like it does most other people.
“What? She started it,” I argue.
“You’re right. Some things never change.”
“You trained me to be a fighter. What did you expect?”
“Just… please don’t get kicked out of that place. You have no idea how hard it was to get you in last minute.”
“Have I ever been kicked out of the bazillion other schools you’ve sent me to?” I ask, lifting a brow.
“Smartarse,” he mutters, turning to Angie. “How long?”
“About ten. If you want to go and take a seat, I’ll bring it through.”
“You’re too good to us, Angie,” he says softly, smiling at her.
I watch the two of them. For years I’ve wondered if there’s ever been anything there.
Much like Calvin, Angie has been with us for as long as I can remember and seemingly more than happy to play house with us instead of having her own.
She’s a little older than Dad, but only by a few years. She’s so lovely and still has a banging body, so I wouldn’t put it past either Dad or Calvin having a go at her. Assuming she’s into men, of course.
I follow Dad into the dining room and he shrugs off his black suit jacket and hangs it over the back of his chair.
The room, just like all the others, is about as modern as interior design comes. All our houses have been the same, although our one in Rosewood was by far the sleekest. This one has just an edge of homeliness about it, thanks to some of the older features of the building.
The walls are all a stark white and each piece of furniture is black. It’s not exactly my style, but Dad seems to love it, and he’s the one paying for it.
