Page 63 of Cruel Legacy

I glance over at our quiet friend, who says, “Pax is right. We have to stay focused.” Of course he sides with him. He always does.

“But Finn may be on to something. We have to follow her. What better way to keep tabs on her, then to be in her face? So far, messing with her student accounts doesn’t seem to bother her. Maybe we’re going about this the wrong way. If Finn’s working his charm she’ll never suspect that you and I are deep diving into her life, to find out why she was on the South side that night, and why she’s even on our floor. This is probably our best shot at finding some personal information we can use to tear her down. It’s all intel gathering and it doesn’t have to be done in the dark.”

That’s right. Everything doesn’t have to be done in the dark. Some things could be more fun with the lights on. Like watching a certain neighbor’s eyes as I do delectable things to her body.

“You’re not even listening to me.” Pax says, forcing my attention back to him.

The disappointment is heavy with this one. “I heard everything, but Holden and I, out voted you. I’ll become her friend and get all her juicy details. Good?” I give a definitive nod, agreeing with myself. “Good.”

Now I won’t have to follow her around and sit through endless hours in the library. Getting her to open up should be easy. We’ve been doing our movie thing, and I saved her from Mikey and his minions. Gaining her trust should be easy.

Chapter31

Thea

There’s a soft breeze blowing across the hotel patio. I set my cup on the corner of the stack of papers I printed, and hover my pen over the one I’m holding ready to mark it up. A familiar voice grabs my attention.

I figure I must be hearing things, but I turn around anyway, and spot Uncle Scott coming around the corner with Van. He sees me right away. I slowly climb to my feet to meet them in the lobby.

“Thea, what are you doing here?” He asks when I get closer. It’s posed as a true question and not a subversive way to scold me.

“I work here.”

“Since when?”

“Since around the last time I told you, I can take care of myself.” I see him thinking back on that day. I’m confused when he gives a heavy sigh. He had to have known I was serious, right?

“I suppose this is the reason you haven’t been using the credit cards or the car.”

He would be right. This job and the cash I already had in my bank account have me sitting pretty flush.

Van cuts in. “What’s going on here?” She looks between the two of us, her brows furrowed, like she’s caught us doing something wrong. Uncle Scott’s a cutie and all, and I’m sure plenty of girls would go for the silver fox look that he’ll eventually be rocking, buteew.

“Van, it’s not what you think. This is my uncle.” She quirks a brow and I clarify. “Not in a -he dates my mom- kind of way, but in a he’s an actual relative and him and his wife are responsible for me as much as anyone can be responsible for a grown woman under the age of twenty-one kind of way.”

I cast my gaze to Scott. “Translation, I don’t need a babysitter.”

“You don’t? Then stop acting like a child. Translation, an adult wouldn’t be trying to hide the fact that they’re employed. They’d come right out and say it instead of blindsiding me with it.” He retorts, mimicking my head tilt.

“She’s your niece.” Van says with a tone I can’t quite place.

I ignore it, even though I probably owe her an explanation about why I didn’t mention having an affluent benefactor when I convinced her to let me pick up some shifts here. I’ll explain it later, but right now, I’ve got to deal with Scott’s shitty attitude.

“I know this isn’t the uber posh sky scraper you work at, or whatever, but this is a solid and reputable business. I would appreciate it if you don’t bring our family squabbles here.”

“I agree.” He says before I can say anything else.

“You agree to leave?”

“I agree this is a solid and reputable business and I wouldn’t think of having a family squabble in plain sight of the guests.”

“No?”

“No.” Van cuts in. “Because those we generally handle out back.”

“Don’t you mean in the back?” Scott asks, like a general smart ass.

Van is still assessing me with her newfound knowledge of my ties to the stuffy suit. “No, son. I mean in the back, by the trash dumpster.”

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