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How’d that secret trust work out for you, Father Dearest?
“Isn’t this cozy?” I scold, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
“What the—” She sits up abruptly, and that’s when I notice her big mistake.
She hasn’t realized it yet.
But I can’t wait until she does.
My lips spread wide.
But she will. Because I am currently fishing my phone out of my pocket to show her.
“What are you doing here?”
“One could ask you the same question.”
“I live here!”
“No, Payton . . . You lived here. Past tense. Now you are trespassing.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” She huffs.
My phone’s light flickers on, and I shine it on her.
“You ass—” She blinks, the new brightness making her squint.
“Hole,” I finish for her with a smile. “Yes. I am. And you, my dear, need to put clothes on.”
She looks down, and a loud gasp rings through the air. Her hands jet up to cover herself, and although I’m an ass, I’m not big enough of an ass to watch, so I turn and give her a moment of privacy.
However, I’m not above using the moment—any moment, really—to taunt her. “I’m not here to collect you next. Don’t fear. You’re not up to my usual standards, though I am impressed,” I chide.
“Shut the fuck up.”
She’s a mouthy one. Even half-asleep.
Too bad she’s dealing with me.
“Not likely.”
I walk around the room, taking in the empty space I left for her to find. The men I sent to empty it did a good job. There is not one thing in the house but Payton. Even the art is gone.
“Then get gone,” she snarls.
“Again, not likely.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Would you like the long answer or the short one?” I ask. She shimmies to put her shirt back on, so I keep talking, “Short answer. This is my house. I own it. So yes, dear sweet Payton, you are, in fact, trespassing. And, as you’ve noticed, you have zero possessions here. No reason to return. As for the long answer . . . I really don’t feel like telling you.”
“You are such an asshole.”
“We’ve gone over this already. Nothing new here.”
“Let’s add creep to the list then. You came in like a creeper while I was asleep. What is wrong with you? Also, can you stop shining that flashlight on me?”
“Sure thing, princess.”
