A Little Bit Wicked - Melissa Foster Page 0,27

cake he’d cut and handed it to her. “Here’s brunch. Eat up and let’s go.” He cut himself another piece and took an enormous bite.

Their mother’s brow knitted, and Chloe felt like a little girl again, hoping her mother would choose her and Serena over a man. Anger boiled inside her. Why did she think her mother would ever change? More importantly, why did she continue to put up with this?

“Go,” Chloe seethed. “Serena and I will take care of all this. Just go.”

Tony slapped their mother’s ass and said, “You heard her. Get a move on, baby.”

“I’ll make it up to you, girls!” Their mother giggled as she pulled off her heels. Then she ran upstairs, assumedly to get her boots.

Chloe stepped toward Tony and said, “And you—”

“Have a good time!” Serena interjected as she grabbed Chloe’s hand and yanked her into the living room, scolding her in a hushed tone. “They’re not worth it. You’ll only feel guilty if you say something.”

“Guilty my ass.” Chloe shook with anger.

Drake stood between the kitchen and living room like a bodyguard, arms crossed, his back to the girls as Serena said, “You hate saying mean things. Don’t do it, Chloe. You know you’ll regret it, and not because he doesn’t deserve it, but because you’re better than him.”

Chloe paced, cursing herself for being there and putting herself through that charade for the umpteenth time.

“Bye, girls! We’ll do this again soon,” their mother said as she ran down the stairs and through the living room. “I love you!” she called over her shoulder on their way out the kitchen door.

“What the hell was that?” Drake asked as he strode into the living room.

Chloe put her hands on her hips and said, “Welcome to the freak show at the Mallery house.”

“I’m starting to understand why you don’t want to date guys who are rough around the edges,” Serena said.

Drake pulled her into his arms and said, “That wasn’t just around the edges, Supergirl. The guy was a classless asshole. I don’t want either one of you anywhere near your mother’s boyfriends.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m done being part of her dog and pony show,” Chloe said. “She’ll always pick a man over us, and we don’t need to feel like shit because she’s clingy and pathetic.”

Drake looked at Serena expectantly.

“Don’t look at me. I’m not coming back if you and Chloe aren’t.”

“Good, because I’d hate to have to forbid you,” Drake teased.

Serena scoffed. “That’d go over real well.” She wrapped her arms around him and said, “What happens when you tell me not to do something?”

“I know you well, Supergirl. Why do you think I tell you not to get frisky on the nights you’re tired?” He gave Serena a quick kiss and said, “Why don’t I throw that food out and clean up so we can all get out of here.”

As he headed into the kitchen, Chloe thought about how lucky Serena was, and her thoughts found their way back to Justin. She remembered how he’d gotten a little aggressive by the ladies’ room at the bar and how thrilling it had been. His voice was clear and present in her mind. That was a reminder. You like to pretend you don’t feel anything for me. It’s about time you stopped doing that.

Last night she’d thought maybe it was time she got past her fear of dating tough guys. But Justin’s parting words repeated in her head—Now, get your sweet little ass inside so I know you’re safe—warring with the scenes she’d just witnessed. Were Justin’s parting words a tease, like Drake’s, underscored with thoughts of her well-being? Or was it just the tip of the iceberg? A warning flag showing her that if she opened that door, Tony-like behavior might come tumbling out?

CHLOE HAD BEEN left so raw and confused after what had happened with her mother’s boyfriend, she’d worried that she might be stepping into a lion’s den with Justin. She’d fought the urge Sunday night and throughout the day on Monday to text him and ask how his grandfather was doing. On Monday night, Chloe sat on her living room floor sorting pictures for the wedding album she was making for Harper and Gavin, trying to ignore the nagging feeling that she’d let her friend down. She’d taken dozens of photos of Harper and Gavin with their friends in the weeks leading up to the wedding, and last month when they’d gotten married, she’d taken dozens more.

She sifted through

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