Page 115 of Grumpy Billionaire Bad Boy

Chapter 27

London

I've been crashing with Grace for the last three weeks, and if I stay another day, I might go insane.

Her father is a narcissistic, controlling prick, and he shows up unannounced whenever he wants, demanding the most outrageous things from Grace, as if she's his personal errand runner instead of his daughter. He reminds me too much of my father, and that alone sets my nerves on edge every minute that I remain here.

Despite saving most of the money I've earned at the bakery, and working every available shift they will give me, it still isn't enough to cover the deposit to get Camille's place. I thought it would be my saving grace but instead it's just a temptress I can never have because my father left me nothing other than trauma.

"How are you dealing?" Grace asks me from overtop the mug in her hands. Aside from her disturbing dad, she's been a fantastic friend, letting me sleep on her couch and cry on her shoulder. She's let me tell her the parts I've wanted to and hasn't pried when I've been vague about things. I don't know how she does it, because I know damn well I'd be asking for more information to fill in the blanks and make sense of things.There's a small part of me that wishes she would, that way I could have someone help me rationalize what happened and tell me what to think about this entire situation.

"I'm fine," I lie. "How are you? How are things with Leo?"

She rolls her eyes. "Leo is great, really. But it's like every time we're out, I can't help but think he's scanning the crowd to see if there's someone else better out there. Does that make sense?"

"No, it does. I can see that."

"Right? Okay, so I'm not being paranoid." Grace bites the corner of her chocolate croissant.

"Not at all. I mean, I can see where you have fun with him. Not to mention he's super hot. But he seems like a playboy through and through. Maybe he's not looking for anything serious."

She swallows the mouthful and continues. "But here's the thing. I don't think I am either. Don't get me wrong, the idea of having a boyfriend, a partner, sounds great, but it also sounds suffocating. I have too much going on, a career to focus on—I don't have time to worry about whether someone is cheating on me. I don't know why I'm so pressed when I wouldn't even know what to do if he wanted to be serious. Maybe this is a blessing in disguise."

"A self-aware queen, I love it." I raise my coffee mug to her. "Cheers to that."

She grins and clangs her mug against mine, the front door to her apartment blasting open a second later, both of us almost dropping our coffees.

"You haven't changed yet?" her father says the second he's through the door, his gaze trailing up and down the two of us.

I cross my arms and cover my chest, hoping it will conceal me from his prying eyes.

"Don't bother," he tells me. "You're not my type." Mr. McCallister continues into her apartment, takingthecroissantshe was eating and snatching it off the table. "You're going to gain weight if you eat like this." He tosses it into herkitchentrash can and continues around the space. "This place is a disaster. What did I tell you about keeping tidy, Gracie?"

Grace stands from the table, folding the robe she's wearing over and hugging it tightly. "What can I help you with, Father?"

Mr. McCallister snaps his attention at her, walking directly toward her and backhanding her. "Don't take that tone with me, young lady."

I bite my lip to hide my reaction, my breath catching at witnessing him be so blunt. If he's willing to treat her like this in front of me, what's he capable of when no one is around? Still, nothing good ever came from me voicing my opinion, so I keep my mouth shut and stay firmly in place.

Grace holds her cheek, her eyes welling with tears.

"And if you must ask, you must not be very good at your job." Mr. McCallister breathes deeply and exhales. "This gala. I need your support. This election is coming up and I can't afford to lose any votes, especially not because of mydarlingdaughter. That wouldn't bode well for the family, would it? You want me to keep footing the bill for this place." He motions around the room. "Then I suggest you consider your options." He flits his attention to me only briefly, then back to her. "You do love charity, don't you?"

The rhetorical question goes unanswered as he leaves without another word, enough of them lingering in the air in his absence.

I rush to the freezer and grab a frozen bag of peas to give to Grace. "Here. Put this on your face."

She takes it, wincing as she presses it against her cheek, and doesn't say anything.

"You don't have to be embarrassed," I tell her. "My father was worse than yours."

Grace scoffs. "I doubt that."

I raise the corner of my shirt and show her the scar from the time he almost took my life. "See this here. That was him." I point to another one. "And this." And then another. "This." I lower my shirt and sit in the chair next to her. "Remember the casts when we first met?"

"That was him, too?"

I nod. "Twenty-three years of torment. Countless broken bones."

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