Page 59 of Hexed
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Look at me like that, all puppy-eyed and disappointed. You should be happy your family and I are getting along.”
A tendril of excitement blossoms in my chest, thinking she’s going to argue, going to give me something other than the same monotonous agreement, but she just frowns and pushes her sunglasses back onto her face.
“Just be careful around her…Venesa, I mean.” She leans over and brushes her fingertips along my forearm, squeezing. “She likes to take things that don’t belong to her. And she’s a liar.”
“You worried about me, princess?”
She grins, and she looks so damn innocent that guilt slams into my middle and makes me queasy. I lean forward and kiss her, both because I’m getting a headache from her constant questions and also because if I think too hard about what this weird feeling is in my solar plexus, I’ll have to come to termswith the fact I’m thinking about Venesa more than I should, even though we just met.
“I just know my cousin is all,” she murmurs, running her fingers through the hairs at the nape of my neck before letting go.
She reaches behind her and adjusts the chair until it’s flat, then rolls onto her stomach.
“What’s with you two anyway?” I ask, both because it’s weird, this animosity between them, but also because I can’t stop myself from wanting to find out more about Venesa.
Her glossy lips purse into a frown. “She’s a bitch.”
There’s an immediate urge to lash out and tell her to watch her mouth, but instead I laugh, because how am I going to explain telling myfiancéenot to give some random woman a bad name. Besides, I don’t know if I’ve ever heard Aria call someone a bitch before. “The mouth on you. Where’d that come from?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re different here.”
“I’m not different, babe. I’m just…stifled. It makes me cranky.”
I look around at the private beach and then back at the mansion. “Yeah, you grew up in a real prison, princess. I feel sorry for you, truly.”
She rolls her eyes. “Just because something looks like freedom doesn’t mean it’s not a cage.”
“And your cousin has something to do with this how? She didn’t put you in there.” I point to the estate.
“No, she just treats it like it’s all supposed to belong to her.”
“Sounds a little dramatic.”
Aria sighs heavily. “Venesa’s mom was the jewel of the Kingston family, but then she chose some deadbeat, alcoholic gambling addict instead of her own flesh and blood. And look how that turned out—the man killed her and then disappeared.”
Surprise trickles through me because I didn’t realize Venesa’s dad was the reason her mother died. “Her husband killed her?”
“Either that, or it was Venesa herself. They never caught the guy.”
I give her a look. “But your uncle took Venesa in when her mom died, so sheisa Kingston, technically.”
“Semantics. He should have let the state keep her.”
“Aria,” I chastise.
“What? It’s notmydaddy’s fault his sister gave up her right to everything, and I don’t appreciate Venesa thinking she’s owed it just because of who she is.”
It just doesn’t sit right with me how badly she’s talking about Venesa. The woman I spent the day with yesterday? She doesn’t deserve the disrespect.
My stomach churns from the story and the blasé way Aria tells me about it, like it’s just some joke, and for the first time when I look at her, I don’t think she’s pretty.
“You have any other family members you need to warn me about?” I side-eye her.
