Page 61 of Claim

Frustration and sadness burned the back of my throat.

“Don’t worry. I’ll handle this like everything else. On my own. You and the family will come out unscathed as usual.”

I turned the handle and left the room as fast as possible. I only had seconds before Dad exploded on me, and if he really lost it, he’d chase after me to make his point. The man loved to have the last word, and I refused to let him win.

Why the fuck should I? I conformed to no one.

I turned the corner in the direction of the parlor room and collided straight into Lucian, knocking my head straight into his chin.

“Oh shit. I’m so sorry.” I grabbed onto Lucian’s forearms as he steadied me and adjusted his balance.

Lucian looked behind me, utterly unfazed by the fact I smacked into his face. “Who are you running from, Sophia?”

“It doesn’t matter. Can we get out of here? I want to go home.”

“Since you’re the person I came here for, let’s go.”

“How did you know I was here?”

“Where else would you be after a morning of headline-making scandals?”

I clenched my jaw. “None of it is true.”

“It never is.” He studied me. “Time to spill all of your secrets, Sophia. I want to know what started this and why you didn’t come to me in the first place?”

* * *

“Start talking,” Lucian commanded the moment his driver turned the street away from our parents’ house in Bishop’s Landing.

Lucian unbuttoned his jacket, cocked an arm over the back of the seat, and then patiently waited for me to begin.

We were the two outsiders in the family, the nonconformist, the troublemakers. Often, I’d wonder what it had been like for him growing up. I’d heard stories about how Dad had adored him and then hated him.

At least if Dad hated me, there would be some emotion toward me. I wasn’t even sure if he felt anything for me. I was a thing, an accomplishment, a checkmark in a book. Something he showed the priest at mass to say look, I completed another duty in God’s name by continuing my family line.

Shit. There I went again. I really needed that drink.

Scanning the car, I frowned when I realized there wasn’t a bottle or tumbler in sight.

Lucian noticed my reaction and commented, “Problems?”

My shoulders sagged. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“I’m not going to pull teeth to get the answers. Give it to me straight. How much trouble are you in?”

“If the cops link the crime to me, then a lot.”

Lucian lifted a brow and glared at me. “Keep going. I want all of it.”

I thought of Damon and how I’d given him the story. Now here I sat with Lucian, the very person I should have called in the first place that night.

One thing I knew for sure, today’s issues would never have happened because Lucian would have killed Keith and dumped his body somewhere. Dead men couldn’t orchestrate tabloid fodder.

But then again, I hated the idea of anything linking back to anyone I cared about.

Releasing a deep breath, I relayed an almost mythological recounting of events.

“He deserved more than what I did to his stupid clothes.” I tried to gauge Lucian’s thoughts, but he kept his face impassive. “I wanted to burn his place down.”

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