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“Thanks a lot for the unnecessary imagery about my fucking daughter, Sterling.” King pushes me away but directs his disgust at Nate. “While I was in a coma. Really, Nate?”
He digs his club into the ground. “You’re still alive.”
“You, however, won’t be once I change my mind and decide to kill you.”
I hold up a hand. “For any future criminal case references, I didn’t just hear that threat.”
“I did.”
The three of us turn to the source of the feminine voice. Aspen stands there in a short white skirt and a blue polo shirt with a hand on her hip, looking ten times younger out of her usual suit.
“I’ll bring you justice and make sure this crazy jerk is locked up for life.” She stares at King. “If you do us all a favor and commit a homicide in, say, Florida or Alabama, I’ll even sit on the front row as they electrocute you.”
“Maybe I’ll be the one in the front row when your witch blood pushes you to commit first-degree murder. Now, can you grace us with the reason behind your unwanted presence?”
“Jefferson invited me for golf.”
“You?”
“A senior partner last time everyone checked.”
“You’re late,” Nate says amicably.
“Probably couldn’t be bothered for the first hour?” I ask.
“You knew?” King stares at us as if we beheaded his favorite puppy à la guillotine style.
“The question is, why don’t you? Jefferson invited the partners. Aspen is high on that list.” Nate checks his watch, probably eager to go back home. The only reason he agreed to be here is because Gwen is studying for her exams.
“His sexist dick hates the idea so much that he forgets about it. Often.”
“You happen to be the forgettable type,sweetheart.”
She glares at him as if he jammed his feet against her ribs and crushed her nonexistent heart, but she soon smooths out her expression. “Not more than you,babe.”
It’s his turn to regard her like she’s a wild stallion he wants to tame. Flipping her hair, she faces me and Nate. “How do we go from here?”
King laughs. “You wouldn’t know how to play golf if you were spoon-fed, amateur.”
“You’re on.” She starts to follow my and Nate’s instructions.
By the time we’re done with golf, King and Aspen are seconds away from slitting each other’s throats or fucking on the grass. Not sure which one is more pressing.
Nate wears the expression of “what have I done to deserve this?” and I’m more than ready to go home.
Usually, I don’t. Go home, I mean. Except to sleep or pretend I have some semblance of a nice life.
But today, I can’t stop thinking about who I left back at the flat.
And I might have bought a shitload of unnecessary shit on my way home. Like a Minions jacket, a cat toy, and a premium fish.
When I get there, I’m greeted by so many fucking colors, they explode in my face.
Some pop song is playing and there’s dancing. By Nicole and Jayden, to be specific. They’re jumping with the energy of a stripper on a pole. Lolli is joining in on the fun, too, running from one end of the room to the other, seeming to search for her own dose of whatever these two are on.
Ignoring my knee-jerk reaction of pissing all over their fun, I lean against the doorway and cross my legs at the ankles. The scene in front of me plays out like a clichéd scene from a Disney film. Nicole twirls a giggling Jayden, her own laughter echoing in the air with the grace of a fucking angel.
No, Daniel. You’re not thinking about throwing a nine-year-old out the window so you can take his place.
