Page 121 of Relentles
The creep.
And Uncle Johnnie had absolutelynofucking business for his sudden anger.
“I can’t apologize enough,” Brett said. “The enforce—”
“It’s fine,” Rebel inserted. “She forgave you for the photo. No need to rehash that.”
He cleared his throat. “She…she called meafterthat, er,unrehashablevisit.”
Was that even a fucking word?
“She was very, very angry. And with her so gorgeous and ripe in her pregnancy—” He sounded…disgusting.
“That’s my mother, you fucking asshole! Stop it.”
“I didn’t mean anything by following her. I didn’t—”
“There, there, Brett,” she said with biting sarcasm. “You had no fucking control over getting in your car and deliberately following her.”
Daddy growled. Brett didn’t notice. He never did when the topic was her mother.
“When I heard about her and the baby…God, I didn’t sleep for two days, worrying about her.”
Daddy’s eyes narrowed, the green color blackening.
“It’s stressful,” Rebel responded, just now wondering how that motherfucker knew about her mother. “She was very sick.”
“Did she get my flowers?”
Momma wasn’t pleased. She’d made Rebel toss them.
She beamed a smile at her father. His hands were trembling. “She loved them.”
“Good, good. Do you think she’ll talk to me? I-I meant no disrespect to your father. Um, her husband. It was a simple dinner date.”
“I explained you only wanted to beplatonicfriends with her, Brett, despite the photo of your chest, the following us, and the invitation to dinner,” she cooed, ignoring her father’s glare and offering him one of her own. “Ya know? A nonsexual relationship.”
“Yes! Exactly.”
Rebel rolled her eyes. He was so fucking impressed with himself.
“She fired me anyway,” Brett said woefully. “Ask her to reconsider our business relationship.”
Rebel chewed on her pinkie, chomping off the nail and spitting it out, not caring who it hit. All these motherfuckers deserved that and more. “She warned you before things escalated. When you first started texting her. My father is an unreasonable man. She did you a favor.”
“Friends, Rebel. Remember?” Brett whined. “Platonic friends. I wanted to be her best friend.”
He wanted more than that.
“I’m fuckin’ killin’ him,” Daddy said. “I’mher best friend.”
Either Brett didn’t hear or he ignored him to say, “You were right there when I was explaining what I meant to her.”
“I sure was. Hold on.”
She muted the call so Brett couldn’t hear what she said. “Can I kill Torie, since Momma wouldn’t?”
“What? Fuck no!” Daddy yelled.
