Series: Cobalt Empire Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 220
Estimated words: 215301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1077(@200wpm)___ 861(@250wpm)___ 718(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 215301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1077(@200wpm)___ 861(@250wpm)___ 718(@300wpm)
“Phoenix,” Tom says, on edge, as he motions a stiff hand toward the woman. “This is Hope Danes. Harriet’s mom.”
The mom that kicked Harriet out at sixteen, forcing her to sleep in her car, I’ve learned.
Rage.
I feel visceral, pummeling rage. “Hi,” I say, not nicely.
“I was just telling her that Harriet doesn’t live here.” Tom pats his thighs for his phone, but his pockets are empty. We both left our phones in the bedroom. “Did Harriet say anything about her mom stopping by?” He’s asking me.
“No.” I block Hope from beelining down the hall.
“Harriet wouldn’t have said anything,” she says, adjusting the long leather strap to her fringed purse. “She doesn’t know I’m here.”
“How did you pass through security then?” Tom asks with bugged eyes.
“I just talked to the front desk.” She shrugs. “Took me some time, but I knew they’d let me through. Everyone tells me I could sell sand in the desert.”
Tom threads his hands on his head, and I’m wondering if they have a panic button in their apartment. Because he looks like he wants to push it.
“I’m not here for Harriet,” she tells us. “I’m here for her boyfriend. Benjamin.”
“It’s Ben,” Tom says. “Just Ben.”
“I must’ve read it wrong then.” She shoos her hand. “Doesn’t matter.”
Tom doesn’t ask where Hope got her sources. Probably because Ben and Harriet upload couple pictures on social media, which tabloids started reposting. But Tom said they’re minor headlines—that Ben isn’t famous enough like their parents to garner a constant paparazzi presence and rabid fanbase.
Harriet’s mom canvasses the bookshelves and view.
I head back beside Tom and put a hand to his shoulder. “Go get your phone,” I whisper.
“I’m not taking my eyes off her, dude,” he hisses.
“Fine, I’ll get mine.” I’m about to move when Hope locks eyes with me and Tom.
“I wanted to warn her boyfriend,” she says. “But I might as well warn you two since you seem to know her.”
I glare. “Warn us about what?”
“Harriet is…to put it bluntly—a whore.”
The fuck.
Tom glowers. “Excuse me?”
I run a hot hand against the back of my neck. Acid in my throat.
“She’s a whore,” Hope says more confidently, brows arching. “She has seduced my boyfriends, neighborhood boys, any man with a dick between his legs. Something is not right with her—and she will cheat on Benja—Ben. She will cheat on Ben the first chance she gets.” Her cheeks redden a little as she looks between us. “Tell me I’m not too late. Has she propositioned you yet?”
“We’re gay,” I snap.
“That wouldn’t stop her.”
My eyes sear.
“Get out,” Tom says fiercely. “You need to go. Like right now.”
Hope digs out her phone from her purse. “If you’d just let me know where she lives so I can warn her roommates and her neighbors.”
“Lady, you need to fucking leave,” I sneer.
She flinches at my tone and focuses more on Tom. He looks like his head is on fire. She’s not going to find comfort with him. He walks her to the door, and luckily, she picks up her pace to reach it. I’m not far behind.
Hope suddenly pauses in the kitchen. “Can I leave my number for Ben? Harriet has me blocked.”
“I wonder why,” I say sharply.
Her strong convictions mortar her face. “You think I’m being cruel now. But I’m saving everyone from worse pain. She is a parasite. She always has been.” Her attention pins to Tom. “I’d think your family was smart enough to not keep company with a person who could ruin their reputation.”
“You don’t know my family very well then,” Tom tells her into a seething glare. “We thrive in ruin.”
Her lips flatline, and she looks to me, but my expression is more caustic than Tom’s.
She flinches back toward the door, then exits into the hallway. “I won’t mind if you told her I dropped by. Maybe it’ll dissuade her from acting ou—”
Tom shuts the door on her face. He latches the lock.
When he rotates to me, I say, “The fuck was that.”
He smears a hand across his jaw in a deep wince. “I can’t even imagine hating your kid that much. Holy shit.” He shakes his head. “I can’t tell Harriet.”
“You have to tell your brother,” I say. “You can’t keep that from Ben. That’s his girlfriend.” He’d know whether it was appropriate to keep Harriet in the dark on this. More than Tom or me.
Tom wavers. “I…” He pinches his eyes closed. “Ben doesn’t need stress right now. Fuck.” We move fast back into his bedroom. Scrounging around the twisted sheets, we find our phones, and neither of us sits down.
I side-eye the cockatoo hopping on the floor, a toy baby ring in his beak. Looks like something a teething toddler would gnaw on. It almost makes me laugh.
Tom dials a number, leaving it on speaker.
“Make this quick.” I recognize Charlie’s sardonic tone. “You have two minutes before I lose service over the Atlantic.”