Page 50 of The Forbidden Note

In the past, I wouldn’t go out of my way to screw a chick in the wilderness, but since our lives have become the spotlight of Jinx’s app, I’m more conscious of where and who I’m hooking up with.

The last time I got clumsy, my bare butt was plastered all over the app.

The motorcycle rumbles.

I push faster.

The mountains blur and the road morphs into one, long stroke of asphalt.

My chest aches even though my body’s spent.

I got what I set out to get tonight, so why doesn’t it feel like I made any progress?

Dutch might still move away.

Miss Jamieson is still untouchable.

Dad is still…

Here?

I’m a couple meters away from home when I see dad’s sleek black town car.

I get closer and notice Ron is waiting outside.

Ron is dad’s muscle. The fact that dad refers to him as his assistant means absolutely nothing because anyone with eyes can see that dunce is no executive.

Ron’s fitted black suit strains against his giant body and does jack squat to lessen the edge of violence steeped in his expression. The guy has eggs for brains, but I guess that makes him easier to control.

I don’t see dad’s right-hand man Lucien around. Lucien is thinner and more conniving. Less muscle and more evil villain support.

Between Lucien and Ron, I prefer the latter.

Lucien always gives me the creeps.

Fingers turning clammy, I ride up to the driveway.

The moment I get close, dad winds his window down.

To the world, Jarod Cross is a deity. People line up in droves to attend his concerts. They tattoo his name and song lyrics on their bodies, making him a permanent part of their lives, baking him into their skin.

They worship him.

If only they knew…

Or maybe it wouldn’t matter if they knew.

No, I don’t think it would.

Devout worshippers don’t ever say their god is flawed.

I stare at him in the twilight, cold and closed-off. The shaggy hair. The long neck. The fingers bearing too many silver rings. He looks like he’s posing forEllemagazine, not coming to visit his sons.

Dad originally wanted to move in with us. We barely stopped him by calling mom to our aid. Now, he lives in the hills, just outside the city, but it’s like he’s on Mars.

“What do you want?” I growl.

Dad twists his head and hits me with a frigid stare. “Get in.”

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