Page 3 of Little Devil

He was Nik’s baby and there’s not a chance in hell I’m about to leave him here and let him rot in this soul sucking hole they call a house.

Dad shrugs like he doesn’t give a shit and tosses me his collar, leaving to go fuck knows where without so much as a backward glance. “You leave today. Take the jet and buy yourself a new car when you get there.”

“Hey, Dad?”

He stops with his hand on the door knob, hesitating a beat before he turns to look at me. “What?”

“You forgot to kiss Mom.”

He walks out without biting back and I risk a glance at her, closing my eyes when she grabs her wine and turns her back on me, as well. As soon as she’s gone, I clear my throat and look down at the heavy metal chain in my hand, forcing a cocky ass grin despite the solid kick in my heart.

“Come on, buddy,” I call, leading the way while he follows me up to my bedroom. “Lakewood’s better anyway, right?”

He collapses on the foot of my bed and I shake my head at him, walking through to my closet to grab my suitcase from the shelf overhead.

Right.

2

Jordyn

“You’re really not coming?”

“No,” my mother sighs, sitting up to remove the thousand dollar sunglasses from her face. “I’m sorry, honey, but you know how hectic these things get. I just can’t get away right now.”

She’s such a liar.

If she were really as busy as she says she is, she’d be sitting in a board room right now, not soaking up the rays in some fancy ass hotel in Miami while I sit on the edge of the pool in our back yard, FaceTiming her because she can’t even be bothered to call me first on my birthday.

I don’t dare call her out on it, though.

I never do.

“You promised me you’d be here, Mom,” I remind her, keeping my voice low to ensure no one else hears me. “Can’t you just come back for tonight and head back out there in the morning?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, JJ,” she berates me, glancing off to look at something over her shoulder. “You know it doesn’t work that way.”

In other words, she’s found a man. And if history’s anything to go by, he’s probably a younger man with a sharp jaw and a wallet the size of Texas.

My mother’s not a gold digger – she’s got enough money to last her a few lifetimes and then some – it’s the power and the masculinity she’s hot for. My father came out as gay and left her for another guy when I was five, something that hit her self esteem more than she cares to admit. She’s been married and divorced three times since then, claiming she falls in love at the drop of a hat, but I know better.

She’s terrified of being alone.

She seems to forget that she has me, but again, I don’t bother calling her out on it.

“What is that you’re drinking?”

“It’s just soda,” I tell her, lifting my glass so she can see.

“You mean diet soda, right?”

My jaw ticks but I refrain from saying what I want to say, forcing a grin I don’t feel because it’s easier than the alternative. “Of course, Mom,”

Her eyes narrow but thankfully she drops it, twirling a long strand of blonde hair around her forefinger while she looks off at something in the distance.

I look so much like her it’s almost freaky, but our personalities couldn’t be more different. She’s driven by money and status, constantly grappling for more of each, and I’m just Elizabeth James’ obedient daughter, sole heiress to the Elizabeth James estate and everything that comes with it.

Lucky me.

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