Page 39 of Relentless

Oakleigh’s eyes held a whimsical spark. “You’re not wrong there,” she smiled. “Fine, no complaints.”

The seamless teamwork between the two made Harper’s jealousy burn hot.

“Don’t forget about me,” Harper chimed, using all available energy to force her trademark smile.

“You’re our guest,” Maeve deflected.

Harper knew it was her sister’s way of telling her she wasn’t welcome. If Harper had wilted every time she faced rejection, she would have ended up like Maeve — obsolete.

“I’d like to help, Maeve,” she insisted, crossing her arms. “Don’t be so prideful. It certainly doesn’t suit you.”

She watched Maeve and Oakleigh exchange tentative looks. Their unspoken unity made her want to throw her mug at the wall, causing it to shatter into a million pieces.

“You’ll need some warmer clothes,” Maeve relented, beckoning Harper to follow her.

They went up the stairs and down the hall to Maeve’s bedroom. It was a corner of the spacious house that Harper had never seen before. When Maeve opened the double doors, Harper’s mouth gaped as she took in the expansive bedroom with vaulted ceilings and stunning, hand-hewn furniture.

Of course, Maeve is living in luxury while I sleep in a dusty little broom closet.

Maeve went to her large walk-in closet. She pulled some warm leggings off the hanger and a pair of khaki Carhartt pants. She handed off a flannel shirt and a hefty jacket.

The pile of heavy winter clothing caused Harper’s arms to flex under its weight. Maeve finally topped it off with thick wool socks and a pair of heavy boots.

Harper grimaced at the terrible clothing. “I probably don’t need all of this,” she objected. Selecting a wool sock with two fingers, she let it flop to the floor.

“Sure, if you want to lose your toes,” Maeve replied, a little too casually. “Which I’m guessing won’t be stylish for sandal season.”

Harper shuddered at the thought.

“I mean, most of this will befartoo baggy,” Harper speculated, raising a sharp eyebrow. Even though they both knew Maeve was fitter and healthier than she had ever been, Harper expertly used her expressive eyes as a weapon, scrutinizing Maeve from head to toe.

Maeve pressed out a sigh. With a quick shake of her head, she reached back into the closet. Whipping a belt off a hanger, she tossed it onto the pile in Harper’s arms.

“Oh, I suppose that will do,”Harper smirked. Taking delight in needling her sister, she headed toward the door.

“Harp?” Maeve called out.

At the sound of her childhood nickname, Harper turned on her heels.

“Surely, there can’t be any more hideous clothes to add to this pile,” Harper practically begged, her brow furrowing in disbelief.

Maeve crossed her arms and leaned her shoulder on the doorframe. She chewed on her lip as she appeared to be collecting her thoughts.

“I don’t think my stipulations were unreasonable.”

Harper scoffed, flipping her hand nonchalantly. “Oh, get over yourself, Maeve.” She couldn’t believe she was being confronted, let alone by someone she couldn’t possibly respect any less.

“If this is about what happened downstairs,” Harper rushed to her own defense. “Oakleigh started it — you saw the whole thing.”

“That’s not it,” Maeve stated. “Although, I don’t care for that either.”

“Then what?” Harper spat. She didn’t know why, but she felt pressed to defend herself.

“There’s alcohol on your breath,” Maeve confronted her.

“Oh yes,” Harper goaded. “Because you’re so perfect.” She ran her tongue over her smooth veneers, her eyes darting away to the corner of the room. “So what if I had a drink?” she shrugged. “I’m not a child, Maeve.”

“Not in my home,” Maeve emphasized, doubling down on the boundaries she had set from the start.

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