Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 40074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 134(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 134(@300wpm)
"You need to leave." I thrust the key into the lock, ignoring the way she sniffles behind me. It's for show, just like everything else she does. And I'm not buying a ticket to watch the play.
"Please," she whispers, "please don't just shut me out. I need you, Briggs. You're the only one who—"
"Who what? Can pay your bills? Convince Tye and Harlan to send you money?" I shake my head, not even turning around to look at her. "Figure it out yourself, Mother."
"You promised," she says, confirming precisely what I already knew. None of her little appearances have anything to do with Hattie or any of us. They're all about the money I stopped sending her months ago.
"No, we had an agreement," I mutter. "I'd keep paying your bills if you left us the fuck alone. You didn't do that. The police had to escort you away from Hattie's while we were in Aspen last year. They had to escort you away from Tye's when you found out Vanessa was pregnant four months ago. You've done nothing but harass the fuck out of me for the last two years, not because you care, but because you can't stand not being the center of attention. It's eating you alive that you're no longer in the papers, playing the doting mother."
"That's not true!"
"Yeah, it is. It's always been true," I retort. "I stopped paying your bills because you couldn't behave. You want to keep living large? Get a job. I'm done."
I step inside, preparing to close the door in her face.
"You'll regret this, Briggs," she says, venom in her voice. "One day, you will regret turning your back on your own mother like this."
"Wrong, Mother," I say, turning to look at her this time. "The only goddamn thing I regret is not cutting you off entirely years ago."
I slam the door, flipping the lock for good measure. She shouts through the heavy wood, her voice muffled, but I ignore her and stride deeper into the living room.
I don't care if she stands out there all night; I'm done.
I take the stairs two at a time, heading to my bedroom. Once inside, I drop my bag beside the bed, then sprawl across the plush top, already reaching for my phone to shoot a text to Tye and Sidney, letting them know what just happened in case she tries to show up at either of their places.
I hesitate for a split second and then send the same text to Harlan, just so he knows what's going on. The odds of her showing up on his doorstep are slim to none since he lives in LA, but he should at least know what's up.
Tye: I'll keep an eye out. You good?
Me: Yeah, fine.
I hesitate for a brief moment.
Me: Karsen thinks we should file a restraining order.
Tye: The thought has crossed my mind, too.
Me: The press will get wind of it.
They're already asking why she hasn't been involved in any of my siblings' wedding festivities. But everyone who knows isn't talking. We won't have the same cone of silence with a restraining order. Our friends and family know how to stay quiet. A court order doesn't.
Tye: I know.
Me: You're fine with that?
Tye: If it means never dealing with her again? Fuck yes. But we both know what you're really asking. And yes, she'd be good with it, too, Briggs. Hattie isn't a little girl anymore.
Me: Doesn't mean she wants to be the center of that kind of attention.
Tye: Fuck, I know. Let me talk to her.
I sigh, tossing my phone aside, only to pick it up again immediately and dial Tia's number. I need to hear her voice right now.
"Hey," she says on the second ring, her voice soft and light, like she's happy to hear from me. "I thought you'd be at practice."
"Just got home," I murmur, my entire fucking body relaxing at the sound of her voice. Christ, she has no idea what she does to me. None at all. "I needed to hear your voice."
"Is everything okay?"
"Perfect now," I say, meaning it. My mother doesn't matter. She has no place in my life. Tia is what matters. The way my heart is going wild right now, just at the sound of her voice, is what matters. "How is your day?"
"Busy," she huffs immediately, making me smile. "Do you have any idea how much work you made for me?"
"I'd say I'm sorry, but it'd be a lie."
"Jerk," she grumbles, but she doesn't mean it. I hear the smile in her voice.
"Maybe I am a jerk," I rumble, "but I'm the jerk who had you coming all over his fingers this morning. I bet I'm the jerk you thought about all day today, too, aren't I?"
"No," she lies, but I hear the way her breathing goes high and unsteady.