Bastards and Scapegoats (Twisted Legacy Duet #1) - CoraLee June Page 0,14

as if my answer was somehow the right thing to say. “Then let’s get you a damn hotel room, huh?”

4

Hamilton was all too happy to take Jack’s prized Aston Martin for a spin. He’d driven his motorcycle to Jack’s house and didn’t have a helmet for me to wear. I was fine with getting an Uber, but he insisted on escorting me to a hotel and taking Jack’s classic ride. Something told me he just wanted an excuse to get behind the wheel of a three-hundred-thousand-dollar car.

Hamilton kept eyeing me with his dark gaze as we drove down the winding roads toward the city. Jack’s property was in a gated, secluded subdivision about thirty minutes from town, and the scenic road was lined with luxury cars and limos. It felt like the road to wealth, and the subtle divide between classes became clearer the closer we got to the city.

Before we left, Hamilton mentioned that he had a perfect place for me to stay where I’d feel safe from Saint. I didn’t really care where I went, I just wanted out of the Beauregard house and away from the terror I’d felt earlier today. There was a time when Mom and I lived in some pretty bad places, but never had I felt so scared. “Did Saint say anything to you?” Hamilton finally asked once we’d gotten to a red light.

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him what Saint said about my mother’s marriage, but I swallowed it. “He asked me if I knew about your mother,” I admitted. “He seems to think there’s some scandal to uncover about her death.”

Hamilton gripped the steering wheel, and he curled his lip. “Everyone loved my mom,” he replied, his words careful and somehow calculating. “I’ve heard plenty of theories surrounding her death over the years. I’m not surprised that he’s still fixated on that. People like to cling to conspiracy theories and gossip when someone wealthy dies young.”

I leaned against the window while staring at him. “Jack never told me how she died,” I replied. “Saint mentioned a heart condition but wasn’t very convinced. I just think it’s disrespectful to dig up the past like that. Jack is always so sad when he brings her up. I can’t imagine losing your mom. He loved her.”

Hamilton ran his tongue over his teeth and stared at the road. “He didn’t love her. Not really. And you won’t have to imagine it,” he snapped back. “You’ll lose yours soon enough. If my brother has anything to say about it.” My words had obviously angered him, because he accelerated a bit harshly once the light turned green. “Fucking heart condition. What a joke.” Hamilton’s tone was bitter as he weaved in and out of traffic.

“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked. “What do you mean I’ll lose her too?” My heart was racing. I grabbed the handle mounted on the door and squeezed my legs together as he went even faster down the road. The yellow lines dividing the street became a blur as we passed buildings, trees, and other cars. “Fuck,” I cursed when he narrowly missed a pedestrian. Hamilton didn’t even seem bothered.

“I meant exactly that. You’re going to lose your mom, too. Not in the same way as I did, but Joseph is a possessive fucker. He won’t let anyone in his life who isn’t completely devoted to him. And if someone is in the way, he gets rid of them. You’re a glaring reminder of imperfection, and the Beauregards like to sweep their imperfections under the rug.”

What an ominous statement. Get rid of them? What did that even mean?

Hamilton’s words were coming from a place of anger, but they rang true. I felt it in my gut that Joseph was slowly pushing me out and using everything at his disposal to do so. “My mom wouldn’t push me away,” I argued as he passed a school bus, nearly clipping the side of it.

“He makes it impossible to say no. He buys people. He uses every tool at his disposal to get what he wants.”

When Hamilton swerved to cut off a Tesla, I’d had enough. “Can you please stop driving like an asshole?” I asked on a gasp.

He winced, then slowed down. “Right. Sorry,” he muttered.

I watched the speedometer for a long moment before speaking again. “You really hate Joseph, huh?” I asked, fishing for more information.

“It’s not an easy task, but I do. It’s hard to hate