Falling apart won’t change the fact that my dad’s currently in jail for embezzling money from the multi-million-dollar company who employed him as their chief financial officer.
Because of my greedy stepmonster.
Because he didn’t want to lose her.
Because somewhere along the way, she became more important to him than me.
“I’m fine.” I swallow the lump forming in my throat. “A little tired from jet lag, but other than that, I’m totally cool.”
I’m positive my attempt to redirect her question was a failure, but fortunately my uncle waltzes in to save the day.
“Why does the basement smell like pot?”
Or not.
Wayne isn’t a big man, his son easily towers over him, but there’s something awfully intimidating about him.
Which probably explains why they call him a shark in the courtroom and he’s one of the top defense attorneys in the country.
All eyes turn to the prime suspect.
For a moment, I feel bad for him—but then I remember what a jerk he is.
Oakley shoves a forkful of eggs into his mouth, no doubt buying himself a little time to answer.
I guess my cousin isn’t as dumb as he looks after all.
“I have no idea.” He shrugs innocently before gesturing to me. “I was at Christian’s all night. Blue stayed home.”
Yeah, I take that back. He’s dumber than a box of rocks. Not only for the awful nickname but for thinking my aunt would ever buy his insinuation.
“Yup,” I drawl, the sarcasm thick in my tone. “You got me. After I got off the plane and took an Uber here, I unpacked my bags and celebrated my new life by toking up in the basement.”
Oakley stands. “See?” He looks at my aunt and uncle. “You guys should be more cautious about who you invite to live here.”
My aunt rolls her eyes. “Dylan doesn’t do drugs.” Her gaze swivels to me. “Right?”
I nod. “Not really my thing.”
My uncle pinches the bridge of his nose. “Christ. We’ve talked about this, Oak. If you want to screw up your life, do it under your own roof, not mine.”
Cheech…or is it Chong? Puts his dish in the sink. “I’m not screwing up my life, Dad. For fuck’s sake, it’s legal here now.”
“Legal for adults, not teenagers.”
“I’m—”
“You turned seventeen a month ago,” my uncle Wayne yells so loud the windows rattle. “Consider this your one and only warning. Smoke that crap in my home again, I’m taking away everything I ever bought you and shipping your ass off to military school.”
Oakley looks genuinely nervous. Can’t say I blame him. Something tells me Wayne’s threat isn’t an idle one.
“Dad—”
“End of discussion.” The tone of his voice leaves no room for argument.
My aunt’s forehead creases. “Why did you take an Uber here?”
I’m about to throw Oakley a bone, but I don’t have the chance.
“Because your stepson was so high out of his mind, he probably forgot,” my uncle booms before he turns to me. “I apologize for the monumental screw-up my kid is, Dylan.”
Whoa. That’s a bit harsh.
Apparently, my aunt’s thinking the same thing because her expression softens. “Wayne—”
“Fuck this.” Before anyone can speak, Oakley grabs his keys off the kitchen table.
Wayne’s eyes narrow. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Jace’s,” Oakley bites out, brushing past his father. “If that’s all right with you, your highness.”
My stomach somersaults. Oakley’s friends with Jace? My Jace?
The timing is terrible, but I have to know.
“Jace Covington?” I all but squeak.
“None of your damn business, tattletale.” He pauses mid-step to glare at me. “Word of advice? Better gobble up your Wheaties tomorrow…because you just lost the only ally you had. Royal Hearts is gonna eat you alive.” He snickers tauntingly as he strides toward the door. “Don’t worry, though. I’ll tell Jace you asked about him.”
Chapter 3
Jace
“I sent a check to your school.” My father sighs heavily, pushing away his bowl of oatmeal. “It should take care of any potential issues you and your brother cause this year.”
By issues, he means trouble.
Across the table, Cole’s lips twitch. “W—”
Whatever he was going to say falls by the wayside when Bianca walks in…wearing a skimpy outfit that’s two sizes too small.
Smiling to herself, she plucks an apple from the basket and winks. “And sister.”
Cole and I exchange a glance.
Dad should have sent Royal Hearts more money. Something tells me we’re gonna have our hands full with issues this year given Bianca’s now a freshman at RHA.
My father averts his gaze, muttering something under his breath.
Like most people she meets, Bianca’s got him wrapped around her little finger.
My mother’s partly to blame for that. She was a Bollywood star…until my dad went to India with his own father on a business trip, took one look at my mom, fell head over heels in love, and secretly whisked her away to the states to live happily ever after.
Rumi Covington was the most gorgeous woman in the world. Hands down, no contest.
But unlike Cole who takes after my father with his light green eyes and pale Irish skin tone, or me who falls somewhere between with a mixture of both my parents’ features—Bianca’s the spitting image of her.
Needless to say, things were much easier when she was in the ugly duckling stage…before the braces came off and she got contacts. Amongst other things I’d rather not think about.
I grip my fork. What my dad needs to do is tell her to get the fuck upstairs and change…but he won’t.
Jason Covington’s a pro at avoiding any kind of confrontation with his children.
Which is ironic considering he owns Trust Pharmaceuticals—one of the biggest pharmaceutical companies in the world and has no problem making waves when it comes to getting what he wants at work.
It’s a shame he can’t muster half that energy to deal with his own kids, but he stopped caring a long time ago.
Hell, he practically invites me and my siblings to walk all over him.
“You’re not wearing that,” I tell my sister as the patio door opens and my friend Oakley walks out onto the veranda.
Or rather, he tries to. The fucker trips over his own feet halfway to the table because his bloodshot pupils are glued to Bianca.
I narrow my eyes at her. “You look like you shop at skank express.”
She takes a bite of her apple. “Probably because I borrowed this outfit from one of your little skanky girlfriends.”
Oakley and Cole laugh, but I shoot them a look of warning before turning my attention back to her.
“Go change.”
She opens her mouth to protest, but I slam my fist down on the table. I’m not in the mood for her or anyone else’s shit today. “So help me God, get your ass upstairs and change or—”