Page 45 of Relentles
On top of that, he had the fucking audacity to announcehe’dfucking patch out, too.Andmove to LA.Andmove into the mansion.Andexpect Bunny and Bailey to share a fucking kitchen.
Harley’s bedroom door opened, and she crept into the hallway. She headed to the bathroom, unaware he sat in the shadows, too comfortable and sheltered to detect his presence. Light slivered into the hallway from her ajar door.
Mortician scowled, annoyed at both her cluelessness and her lamp. His job required instinct. He couldn’t rely on artificial sources to aid his sight. It was one reason he insisted on the darkened corridor at night. He would become dependent upon a light bulb or a flashlight, two tools the antithesis to sneakily snatching motherfuckers.
Hearing was another important sensory detail. Luckily, hearing aids and contact lenses were at his disposal if the need ever arose. He was on the fence about eyeglasses. All the motherfuckers had to do was fall off to blow his fucking cover.
He waited. This time when Harley walked into the hallway and closed the bathroom door, he stood.
“Harley.”
Midway to her room, she yelped and froze, startled. “You scared me!”
“I didn’t mean to,” he told her, closing the distance between them. “But you should be aware of your surroundings.”
“I’m in the safety of this house. There’s no need to be aware of anything.”
“I’m here, so you right, baby. But danger lurks everywhere. You shouldn’t be so fuckingunaware.”
“Must be a miserable way to live,” she said, stomping to her room.
He followed her. She glanced over her shoulder, picking up her pace and stepping over her threshold a moment before Mort reached her. She shoved the door, fully intending to slam it in his face. If Mort hadn’t flattened his hand against the wood, she would’ve succeeded.
“Get out.”
“This my fucking house, Harley,” he snapped. “You can’t put me out.”
“So now I’m not your child, but a tenant?”
“Do you pay fucking rent? No, do you pay for any goddamn thing?”
“Maybe, if I did, you wouldn’t ruin my life and move to LA.”
Not wanting to lose his temper, Mort drew in a deep breath. He had so much he wanted to say to his little girl. He wanted to ask her about Nardo, though he didn’t know how to broach the topic nor did he really want to hear the truth.
Deep down, he already knew it.
He wanted to remind her that she was still a child. It didn’t matter that she’d decided to involve herself in some very grown-up things because ofthatlittle motherfucker.
Mostly, he wanted to tell her how much he loved her and that no one, especiallyhim,wanted to ruin her life. It didn’t matter what he said to her. He was her enemy.
That hurt so fucking much.
“I love you, baby girl,” he started.
“Then prove it. Tell your wife you won’t move and—”
“Wait a goddamn minute.Mywifeyourmomma and I’ll ground you for the rest of your fucking life if you don’t show her the respect she deserve.”
Harley stiffened and narrowed her eyes, then smirked. “She never—”
“Do I look like Bailey?” he snapped, already knowing the bullshit she was about to fling. “I don’t require her defense of me for me to defend her. That’s my wife, Harley.”
Her eyes widened. “I didn’t say that.”
“You want to stand toe-to-toe with motherfuckers? Stand in fucking truth. Don’t backtrack. You look like a fucking coward.”
Clenching her jaw, Harley folded her arms and glanced away.
