Page 79 of Restless
“No!”
“Hey.”
CJ’s voice cut into the tension. Daddy looked up as Mommie and Harley turned. He wore jeans, a T-shirt, and motorcycle boots. He was tall and so beautiful, Harley nearly swooned. Instead, her jealousy flared at his near perfection.
“Hey, kid,” Daddy greeted, brushing past Harley and Mommie. He paused to shake CJ’s hand.
Mommie ignored CJ. Maybe, it was because she focused on Daddy, though Harley doubted it.
“Lucas, please,” Mommie said. “Wait. Let’s talk in private.”
Daddy turned and kissed Mommie’s cheek. “We can talk tomorrow—”
At the panic on her mother’s face, Harley turned to CJ. “Please,” she mouthed, unsure what he might do to stop this disaster in the making.
“Uh, I came to talk to Harley, but I need to discuss something with you afterwards, Uncle Mort.”
“Tomorrow—”
“It’s really important.”
“I paid five grand to sit at Boy’s fucking poker table, boy,” Daddy growled, sounding more like himself. “I was going to win my fucking money back.”
“Or lose more,” CJ said, grinning. “Then, you’d be in the same ICU as mom, you fucking tightwad.”
Tension seeped from Daddy’s shoulders, and he snickered, then looked at Mommie, his gaze softer. “We can go to the den and talk.”
Within moments, Daddy guided Mommie down the hallway.
“Key or code?” Harley asked, folding her arms.
“Neither. Lou and Kaleb were outside and they let me in.”
Harley frowned. “That’s strange. They said they were going to the music room.”
“You would’ve heard some noise,” CJ countered.
“What brings you here?” she asked, walking back into the kitchen and heading to the dining nook, where she sat.
CJ followed her. “We need to talk, bae.”
“About what, CJ? Unless you’ve come to apologize for all your lies—”
“Didn’t you just ask me for help? Now that I’ve given it, you’re back to accusing me?”
“Your help is the least you can do. Besides, I didn’t make you comply. You did it of your own free will. Now,apologizeand swear you’ll tell me the truth from this moment forward.”
“I’m not apologizing for something I haven’t fucking done, Harley.”
“I have pictures as proof. And you know they speak a thousand words.”
“Or a thousand lies,” he retorted.
“What? Were you photoshopped into the pictures?”
“No, Harley. I was with Molly.”
Pain sliced through Harley, and tears rushed to her eyes. “Get out.”
