way they used to be. It’s fucking over, and it’s all June’s fault.
I close my jacket and cross my arms in front of me to stop the cold from getting in. My breath comes out in puffs of smoke, and I’m stewing with anger and resentment. My lingering hangover has not subsided all day, worsening my mood. Now I’m on my way home, and I’m fucking dreading it. Another night when I’ll have to make a crappy excuse to leave Parker and go out drinking with my friends, possibly find another girl to add to my little black book. But nothing’s ever enough. Nothing fills the black, June-shaped hole in my heart.
I’m only a block away from home when I hear the engine of a car slowing down behind me. It is followed by angry honks and shouts, and I turn around to see what the commotion is about.
There’s a black limo behind me, the lacquer on it shiny and spotless. And the driver is rushing out now, opening the door. A second later, two impossibly long and slim legs poke out, and a girl exits the vehicle.
She's dark, tall, and willowy. She looks like an Upper East Side princess who’s lost in this part of the city. Her hair falls in perfect glossy ringlets, and her eyes burn bright behind thick layers of mascara on her long lashes.
And then she stumbles in her too-high heels and almost falls under the wheels of a car.
Thankfully, I catch her before that happens.
June Wildfox feels light in my arms, like a feather. The desire to throw her over my shoulder and carry her to my bed where she belongs is strong, but I fight it with everything I have in me.
“What the hell are you doing?” I murmur as I place her back on her feet, and more angry honking ensues. “You need to stop following me.”
June manages to stand straight, giving me a nervous smile. She waves at her driver, and he manages a short nod before getting in the car and driving away, slowly dissipating the traffic jam they’ve both caused.
“I really don’t have time for this,” I say roughly to the dark-haired socialite, making my way off the road and onto the sidewalk. I tuck my hands in the pockets of my peacoat and start walking away with purpose.
But of course, I hear the clickety-clack of her heels as she runs after me. “Wait!” she begs softly. Somehow, everything about her is soft—that mass of hair, her porcelain skin, and those full lips. Shaking my head, I refuse to look at her and keep walking, but she manages to catch up with me by taking long strides.
“Come on, Kade,” she says with that begging voice that used to work so well on our father. She managed to be Daddy’s girl even though she wasn’t even his blood. “Why won’t you talk to me? You know what happened isn’t my fault. I just want to—”
“I’m not dealing with you today,” I tell her and keep walking.
She doesn’t waver. She trails me like a lost puppy.
“You have to talk to me at some point,” she presses, and I shake my head. “Please, Kade! I’m so alone… I have no one anymore.”
“Not today,” I tell her. “Not now. It’s… It’s too fucking soon, June.”
That seems to shut her up for a bit, but she’s still following me relentlessly. The noise of her heels is driving me insane, and I rub my eyes as I walk, too tired to deal with this now. I have enough problems without Poor Little Rich Girl following my every step.
“Please, Kade,” she says behind my back, but I refuse to turn around or give her the time of day. It fucking stings, though, because I’m a man who protects the ones I love. But not her, I remind myself. She’s on her own now, and she’s got enough money to take care of all her problems.
“Let me be, June,” I tell her sternly and quicken my pace, but she runs behind me, wrapping a shaky hand around my forearm. I turn around and rip my arm out of her touch, watching her lips tremble with sadness.
“I’m so lonely,” she says sadly. “I miss you … You have each other, and I got…”
“You got our parents' fortune,” I tell her sternly. “You got every cent, and don’t pretend you’d give it up for us. We’re not going to play the puppets in your little play, so you might