Page 20 of Cursed to Be Mine
Not wanting to have this argument in front of him, I switch and say, “You remember to eat?”
She looks at me blankly for a second, then nods.
“Good. Now what is it you want?”
Her mouth opens and closes a few times. “Uh…”
Well, come on.
“Ben…Benjamin called me,” she says, shaking her head as she takes a step back into the house, her eyes quickly darting over my shoulder. “He says he tried texting and calling you –”
I pull out my phone and see evidence of such.
Benjamin:Someone took a picture of you pushing the little girl off your lap. It doesn’t look good.
My blood runs cold with rage. Fucking vultures. “Sorry, Khalid,” I say, heading for the door. “I need to deal with this.” Scarlett steps out of my way, no doubt to disappear back into her room.
“Gen, wait. Show Khalid where the hose is so he can wash our car.”
“Why is he washing –”
“Just do it, please.”
She sulks as she nods. Her gaze lowers to the floor. What happened to my outgoing little genius who loved to talk to everyone she saw? “Thanks, Gen. I love you,” I say as I step past her.
But then I stop and turn to look at Khalid. His eyes are on me, hot and hungry, and I fucking hate Benjamin in this moment. And the bastard who took the unflattering photo with plans to twist it to their shitty agenda.
“Make sure you remember to come inside after for that beer,” I say smoothly, my voice low and sultry.
He smiles. Tilts his head. “I’d never forget.”
And fuck, I really want to kill Benjamin now.
Instead, I smile before stepping all the way into the living room and tapping his contact on my phone. Lifting it to my ear, I wait a ring before he answers.
“How bad is bad?” I ask, cutting straight to the point so I can get back to Khalid. Scarlett slides the door behind her, but it doesn’t shut all the way, so I turn around to do it for her.How hard is it for her to just keep her hand on the handle until she feels the click? I’ve told her so many times…
“You look like you want to yeet her off your lap.”
“I want to what?”Yeet?
“Throw,” he says. “And the headline they’re going with is, ‘Mayor Davis Says Sick Children Should Be Left to Die.’ Did youeversay anything like that?”
“Of course not!” The words are barely out of my mouth before I flinch. “Fuck. Maybe.”
His disappointment reaches through the phone and chokes me, so I start to pace across the dining room. The click of my shoes on the light-gray wooden floor is soon silenced by a lush white rug.
“They’re twisting my words.” Irritation bleeds from my every step as I cross the wenge table, a reflection on the dark tropical African hardwood making me pause. My eyes narrow on the wet ring of water.
I tell her all the time to use a coaster.
“What exactly did you say?” he demands.
Marching into the kitchen, I head for the roll of paper towels. “I was talking to one of the mothers. You know, the one whose girl sat on my lap?”
“Mrs. Keller.”
“Yes. About how they decided to stop treatment for her.” Tearing off a sheet of paper towel, I head back into the dining room. A quick glance through the double glass doors shows me Scarlett is still outside talking to Khalid. My throat tightens. “She wanted to know if she’d made the right choice.”
