RIOT HOUSE (Crooked Sinners #1) - Callie Hart Page 0,129
can’t call my father’s bitch of a wife Patricia so he uses the title that used to belong to my mother. And I fucking hate it. “Don’t tell her I’m home, okay?”
He nods. “I’ll put the car in the garage for you.”
“Thanks, man.” I turn to Elodie, about to ask her if she’s got her bag, but the stunned look on her face stops me in my tracks.
“Home?” she hisses. “You brought me home?”
Oh god. She looks like she’s about to have a heart attack. “It’s not a big deal. It’s just a building. With a lot of fancy rooms inside.”
Her face blanches of all color. “Wren. You told me to bring a bikini and some fucking lingerie. You didn’t tell me to bring nice, respectable clothes that would be suitable for your parents.”
Calvin gives me a look that says it all: you’re in for it now. “Leave the keys. I’ll give you guys some time to gather your stuff and head inside,” he says, his smile stretching from ear to ear. “It’s very nice to meet you, Miss Elodie.”
“Likewise, Calvin,” she replies in a very high-pitched voice.
I get out of the Mustang and walk around the other side, opening her door for her. “Get out of the car, Elodie.”
She glares at me balefully, crossing her arms over her chest. “Are you insane? Have you lost your fucking mind?”
“Better not curse so much in front of my father. He’s a republican. And a Christian.”
She throws her head back, closing her eyes and pulling a face that looks worse than pained. “Wren! This is not—this isn’t—”
“Romantic? It really isn’t. But there are things here I wanted to show you,” I tell her.
“I thought you always told the truth,” she says accusingly.
I lift both eyebrows, shrugging. “When did I lie?”
“When you didn’t tell me we’d be coming here!”
I laugh, even though I know it’s going to annoy the shit out of her. “Come on, Little E. That wasn’t a lie. That was an omission of the facts. Now please get out of the car before I have to come in there and get you.”
She knows I’ll do it. I put her in there, for crying out loud. I’ll just as easily carry her out again, kicking and screaming if I have to. Sulking rather dramatically, she gets out of the car, shooting a look my way that would flay any other mere mortal alive. I’m used to her emotional squalls, though. They last all of five minutes and then they’re over again. “This is really unfair,” she groans. “You’re supposed to give people warning, so they can mentally prepare for this kind of stuff. And I really didn’t bring anything to wear.”
“Nothing?”
“Not unless you think a couple of lace thongs and some high heels would be appropriate dinner attire?”
“You won’t find me complaining.” Jesus, my dick’s getting hard just fucking thinking about it.
“Asshole!” she wails. “Help me! This is going to be a disaster!”
I can only keep the joking around for so long. Seeing her this worked up has something inside me pulling taut like a bowstring until I feel like I can’t breathe around the wretchedness of it. I’m such a fucking joke. Once upon a time, I thought I wanted to hurt this girl. It’s karma that it hurts me more than I can bear to see her in distress. I pin her against the side of the car, cupping her face in my hands, brushing her hair back behind her ears. “Calm, E. It’s okay. I wouldn’t throw you under the bus. I ordered a few items online for you and had them sent ahead. Everything you could need is already inside, waiting for you.”
Her panic fades, turning rapidly into annoyance. She slaps my arm. “Cruel, Wren Jacobi! You should have led with that!”
She eventually does stop hitting me, long enough for me to kiss her. She’s so fucking small in my arms. She melts into me, grumbling half-heartedly as she kisses me back.
“Come on. Seriously. We need to get inside before my step-mother sees us. I’m really not kidding.”
Elodie reads the genuine warning in my eyes and relents. “All right, then. Fine. Lead the way. I suppose other people have visited here and made it out alive, right?”
All I can do is laugh. She has no idea what she’s in for.
Monmouth House was built in 1878 by a wealthy oil tycoon by the name of Adar Jacobi. He was the first