Page 114 of Fair Catch

This fucking—

“You have no fucking clue what you’re talking about,” I snap, my fingers clamping on the railing like a vice. “And quite frankly, it’s an insult to—”

“You were roommates with Phoenix Mercer last year, weren’t you?” she cuts in, ignoring my outburst. “Spent a lot of time with him and his family throughout your high school years?”

How the fuck does she know that?

Frowning, I ask, “What does my relationship with the Mercers have to do with Hayes?”

“Simply observing your habit of cozying up to people with wealth and status,” she bemuses.

My temper flares at her insinuations, and it’s taking everything to keep it in check now. Every piece of love I have for her son to not completely lose my shit on her.

“I don’t give a shit about their money or yours. It doesn’t mean anything to me,” I say slowly.

“Yes, well. That’s easy to say when you have none, dear. But that can all change in the blink of an eye.”

My molars grind together so hard, I’m shocked they have yet to crack.

“You might as well speak plainly, Mrs. Lancaster. After all, we Southern boys do need things dumbed down for us.”

“My husband and I are prepared to offer you a deal in exchange for ending thisrelationshipwith our son. Twenty-thousand dollars cash, plus the buy out of your lease.”

It’s not her obvious distaste for Hayes and me being together that catches my attention, nor the lump sum of money she’s offering. Those are par for the course, at this point.

It’s the lease part that has my heart crawling into my throat.

“You want me to move out of the apartment too?”

A short, tempered laugh leaves her. “You really think we’d allow you two to continue living together? Please, we weren’t born yesterday.”

I gape at her, wondering where the fuck she lost the plot to think I’d ever take her money, let alone kick me out of where I live.

“Maybe not, but you’re sure as hell out of your mind. No amount of money on this planet is worth more to me than Hayes.”

Her lips press together, forming a thin, red line. “Oh, dear. I had a feeling you might not see things our way.”

“Then why offer it at all?” I snarl.

“Because I was hoping to save our son from having to make the decision instead.”

Shards of ice slice through my veins while my brain tries and fails to play catch up. “What the hell are you talking about?”

She studies me the same way a predator would their prey, searching for the perfect attack pattern to go in for the kill.

And my fucking God, she’s found it.

“New deal. Take the money, move out, end things with our son. If you don’t, we will be forced to put the choice in his hands instead.” Her eyes gleam with venom as she utters, “His future, his inheritance, his trust funds…or you.”

To drive her point home, she opens the clutch she’s holding, producing the check in question, and holds it out to me.

I can only stare at it, floored—absolutely baffled—by this turn of events, and it takes me a minute to find my voice, let alone form a coherent response.

“You’d threaten to disown and cut off your own son because you don’t approve of the person he’s dating?”

“Approval has nothing to do with it,” she says, tone clipped and perturbed. “The chance of my boys choosing someone up to my standards is already slim. But when one is clearly bringing home a piece of gold-digging trailer trash? Well, I always like to see that it’s put out.”

“Unfortunately, thistrailer trashisn’t fucking interested,” I snap, glaring at the check she’s still offering.

---