Page 41 of Cruel Promise


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Little shit. I could straighten her right out.

After talking about the kid as if she’s not even in the room, the principal sighs. What a shit job, dealing with crap like this day in and day out. No wonder the woman looks tired.

“Miss Gates, we can’t keep making exceptions for your sister,” the woman says, her lips tight.

Okay. I see what’s going on. Charleigh might not, but I can read people. And this principal is a phony. She loves this shit. Punishing the baddies. She was probably one of the kids beaten down by the alphas back in the day. Finally getting revenge. On kids a quarter of her age.

But whatever. People are motivated by weird shit.

No one asks Evie what happened. For some reason, it’s immaterial. Maybe she was justified in fighting? In my experience, people seldom throw a punch without good reason to.

But I keep my mouth shut. I have no horse in this race.

I’m tempted to tell Charleigh to let the brat go. That she needs to learn to fend for herself. Charleigh can’t keep bailing her out. Hell, after the auction, she might be on the other side of the world, anyway. She won’t be available for bullshit like this.

But she doesn’t need to know any of this. She’ll find out soon enough. In fact, if all goes according to plan, she could be gone this weekend.

* * *

CHAPTERTHIRTY-FOUR

Kir

Kind of makes me sad. But business is business.

Hell, we have some crazy fuckers from Saudi Arabia coming in. They love nothing more than a pretty American girl to add to their collections of concubines to churn out baby after baby. And these guys pay top dollar.

I’ve even heard—never verified though, because how would I?—that they remove the women’s clits so they can’t enjoy sex. They just become baby-making machines.

Sick fucks, if you ask me. Who wants to fuck a corpse? Isn’t it better when the woman enjoys herself? Guess these guys are not into a woman’s pleasure. They’re just cum dumpsters, as they call them. They collect women like they do exotic cars. But they treat the cars better.

When it comes down to it, are my brothers and I any better? We’re just as fucking beastly as the next crazy bastard.

It’s a shame Charleigh fell into our lives. She might have done well for herself otherwise. She’s even mentioned something at one point about taking classes.

Well, those days are over.

“So, how’d your sister get so off track?” I ask once we’re in the car, Charleigh having made some sort of deal with the principal where Evie promised to be a good girl.

I give the kid twenty-four hours before she fucks up again.

As we drive, it’s not lost on me, the way she’s looking out the window like she’s soaking up scenery she may never see again.

Maybe she knows more than I realize, knows our plan for her. Or at least suspects it.

She lets out a long exhale, still spacing out on the landscape we’re whizzing past. “My mom was murdered when I was ten. Evie was about six. She’s been a mess ever since. In and out of trouble all the time. Stealing from the shop, my dad, fighting, running away. Pops threw in the towel. But I didn’t. I can’t. In honor of my mother.”

I glance over at her. She’s put her feet up on the dashboard and let her long hair whip out the car window. I could drive around all day like this with a pretty, dream-filled girl by my side.

Maybe I could just keep going. Drive till we run out of gas.

I nearly laugh out loud that that one. Sounds like some sad-sack fucking movie.

“Your mother was murdered?” I say. It’s more of a statement than a question. But I want to know more.

Charleigh’s attention snaps back. “Yeah. She was at the pawn shop and there was a hold up.”

At that shitty place her old man runs? Someone held that place up and committed murder there? Why does her father still have the place open, for fuck’s sake? If it were me, I’d shut it down and find something else to do. Leave town, too.

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