Page 2 of Prey Tell
It takes me a second too long to realize I’m flirting with her.
Fuck.
Flirting with Juliet Parker? I shouldn’t be entertaining the idea—and trust me, my mindwantedto entertain the idea numerous times over the past couple of years.
But her brother was my best friend. I’d known her for a decade. And even if that weren’t the case, I was Chase Ravage, fourth son of Charles Ravage, also known as the billionaire who fucked over a bunch of people five years ago. The Ravage name is basically cursed, and Juliet is perfection personified. I’d drawn the line years ago. As tempting as she was—and she wasalwaysfucking tempting—I could never have her.Shewould never want me.
At least not in the uninhibited ways I wanted her to want me.
“Are you going to help me with these dishes or do I have to do them all myself?” I say quickly.
It seems to break the spell, because Juliet shakes her head and hops off the counter. “Why are you here anyway if Jackson is asleep?”
I shrug. I could tell her the truth—that seeing my best friend is the highlight of my Friday evenings, so I savor my time in this quaint fucking house. I could confess that my job at Ravage Consulting Firm is slowly eating away at my soul, and while my penthouse in downtown Crestwood is nice and big, I’d much rather be here because it feels more like home than anywhere else. Or I could confide that ever since her and Jackson’s parents died two years ago, I feel obligated to take care of them.
Jackson Parker is the closest thing I have to a real family.
And Juliet comes with the territory.
It’s why I knew she’d taken a cab home—because I’d given her access to my business account, and I’d seen a notification earlier that she was being picked up.
“Like I said, his kids wear him out. And though my father was a deplorable human being, he still taught me basic manners.”
“I assumed you wouldn’t know how to do dishes. You know, with your upbringing.”
My jaw tics, but I don’t indulge her with a response. “Grab a towel and help me dry.”
She reaches for the towel on the counter, but then she notices my ring on the soap dish. Her finger brushes over the gold, the letter ‘R’ engraved in the middle. I watch her as she places it on one of her fingers, smiling as it dangles off.
“I always forget that you wear this ring.”
“I don’t.”
“It looks like a relic.” She places it back down on the counter. “Though it is quite pretty. It goes well with the pink gloves,” she deadpans. Despite her teasing, I laugh. “If you hate your father so much, why do you wear it?” She grabs the towel as I hand her a large pot.
“To remind myself.”
Drying the pot, her large, chartreuse eyes find mine. “Of what?”
A muscle quivers at my jaw as I hand her a wineglass. “That I never want to end up like him.”
She dries the glass without asking anymore questions, but if I know her at all, I can assume she’s formulating a response in that big brain of hers. Juliet is nothing if not practical, driven, and focused. In fact, if she weren’t about to attend college, I might’ve offered her an internship at Ravage Consulting Firm. After five years, she could have been the goddamn VP. Though, that would mean she would need to be associated with the Ravage name, and I knew she was better than that.
Her arm brushes against mine briefly. Taking a step away, I don’t let myself register the slightly dejected look on her face.
“Are you going to tell me why tonight was a bad night?” I ask before she can hurl one of her Parker-isms at me. I know she wants to ask about my family. She always does. I swear my family is like some sort of science experiment to her.
“It’s nothing. Just your normal teenage teasing.”
I stiffen. “Was someone teasing you?” I ask, my voice lower than before.
Give me names,I want to ask.
“It’s not a big deal, Chase.”
My first name on her lips startles me. She hardly ever calls me that. Even when she was a wily nine-year-old, she referred to me as Ravage.
I wipe out the sink and she finishes drying the second wineglass. “Tell me.”
