Page 223 of Mad As Hell

He stopped at a red light and turned to give me his full attention, his eyes soft. “It’s what I want, yeah. But I also wasn’t going to expect—”

I covered his lips with my fingers, silencing him. “Ryan, I love Corinne. I don’t know how we’ll make it work, with her in school and us in school, but I know you two are a package deal.”

“You’re fucking amazing, Maddie.”

I blushed and inclined my head to where the light had turned green. “Um, drive.”

He smirked and switched his attention to the road. “There’s a school nearby that would be good for Cori. It has a big art program and state-of-the-art intramural programs she’d love. Horseback riding, cheerleading, tumbling… But she’d live there most of the year.”

I frowned. “Like a boarding school?”

“Sort of.” He turned down another street. “Repetition and schedules are what Cori needs. She does best when she has a routine. We’re still in school, Mads. I have another year left, and you have college. Neither of us are in a spot where we can give Corinne everything she needs all the time.”

Lips pressed together, I considered his words. “I don’t want her to think we’re abandoning her.”

“We won’t be,” he said fiercely, pulling the car alongside the curb by a massive glass-and-steel building with a geometric silver statue and fountain in front of it where people had paused to sit as others bustled around them. “Cori knows about the school. She wants to go.”

“I’m surprised Beckett didn’t send her to get her out of the house,” I remarked.

Ryan grimaced, his jaw tight. “Beckett wanted Cori close because he knew he could use her to hurt me. Besides, sending her there would be admitting she has learning problems and is developmentally delayed. God forbid she looked less than perfect to his country club buddies.”

“If you think that’s the best move for Corinne, then I’m in. But I do want her to have her own room wherever we live.” I hesitated. “I mean, we never even really talked about where we’re going to live. You can’t crash in my dorm forever, and I’m not crazy about sharing a house with all your frat brothers.”

“Do you want to go to PCU next year?”

“I haven’t really thought about it.” I hadn’t. In the almost four months I’d been going to Pacific Cross Academy, I’d been bouncing from one dramatic scandal to the next, trying not to lose control of my life. I’d gotten into this whole mess because Madelaine tempted me with a future at the college of my choice.

I hadn’t thought about college in forever. It was hard to think about a future when I was trying to survive the week.

I wasn’t sure what I wanted, except a long nap in my husband’s arms, when this was all over.

“Our next step is figuring out what you want,” he reasoned, unhooking his seatbelt. “Staying on the West Coast would be easier for Phoenix and Cori, but if you want to go to school somewhere else, we’ll make it work.”

I smiled softly. “So, you’re saying you’ll follow me wherever I want to go?”

“Damn right,” he replied firmly. “I’ll follow you into hell if that’s what it takes.”

“That’s convenient,” I murmured, looking up at the building. “Is this it?”

Ryan nodded grimly as an attendant from the valet stand began walking over to us. “Ready?”

“No,” I admitted, taking a deep breath as the attendant opened my door and extended a hand to help me out of the car. I took it, the tight pencil skirt that came to my knees combined with Ryan’s low-to-the-ground car making me need a little assistance unless I wanted to look hella awkward.

“Miss,” the man greeted me, his eyes sweeping down me in a quick assessment. He smiled, probably assuming from the car and the outfit that I was someone worth being polite to. He looked at the briefcase in my hand. “Do you need—”

Ryan came around the front of the car with a scowl, all but ripping my hand from the valet’s as he tossed the keys at the man’s face. He caught them before the keys could poke his eyes.

“Don’t scratch it,” Ryan remarked, glaring at the man pointedly as he took the briefcase in one hand before wrapping the other arm possessively around my waist.

The man paled a bit at seeing who was holding on to me. “Yes, Mr. Cain.”

Ryan looked at me, all smiles. “Ready, baby?”

“You’re the worst,” I mumbled as we walked toward the front doors. “He was being polite.”

“He was eye-fucking you,” Ryan retorted, holding the door for me.

I rolled my eyes. “You’re biased.”

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