my chest. My heart burns with something that scares me. I hug her tight, press kisses to the top of her head, and will my voice to steady. “It’s okay, baby. I promise. Let me take you back to bed. Daddy and I will finish talking and then, I’ll come see you.” I try to pry her loose. I am desperate to get her away from us and our disaster.
She shakes her head violently and tightens her hold on me. “The man downstairs said you’re leaving. I want to come with you. Please, Mommy.”
My eyes boomerang back to Marcel, and a shiver of dread runs down my spine at the triumph in his eyes. “What man?” I demand.
“The one who is going to throw you out if you refuse to leave on your own,” he informs me in an even casual tone.
I push my daughter behind me and bare my teeth. “I dare you to try.”
He claps twice and just like that; the battle of my life begins.
18 years AGO
RIVERS WILDE
HOUSTON, TX
Chapter 1
No Right or Wrong
REGAN
“Haven’t you learned anything from me?” My mother's question isn’t rhetorical, and she's more interested in obedience than truth. But this is one of the rare times that I can actually give her both.
“Everything.” Even the things she didn’t mean to teach me. She’s the reason I floss like it’s my side hustle, run like it’s my religion, and will never get married or have children.
“Why did you go to your grandfather when I already said no?”
I roll my eyes the way I only dare to when she can’t see me. “You told me to ask him.”
“He was supposed to say no, too. He forgets that you are my daughter,” she seethes.
“How could he? when you remind him so often?” I quip.
“Don’t get smart, child.” Her voice cracks like an ice-cold whip. My reckless good humor fizzles. I know how far to push my mother and I just danced up to the line.
“I was just joking. I’m sorry,” I say, filling my voice with contrition.
“Apology accepted,” she says with the condescension of a queen granting a pardon. Her ruffled feathers smoothed; she returns to the original conversation. “Now, tell me what agreement you two made about this job.”
“I’ll be home by midnight, I’ll go straight to bed. I don’t have to leave for school until 7:45. All my homework is done, I took a nap, worked out, ate dinner and still had time to beat Pops at a round of checkers,” I rattle off my itinerary, knowing that this is the key to her approval. Do everything that’s expected, and she’ll leave me alone.
“That’s all fine, Regan. But you don’t get kudos for the basics.”
As if I want or need her kudos. I grit my teeth to stop myself from scoffing. My spirit may be rebelling, but for my body to get in on the action, I need to make sure she doesn’t suspect anything. “I know. I just wanted you to know that I have a plan to stay on track.”
“Your grandfather and I have great expectations for you. Don’t let that wild heart of yours lead you astray. Your greatest asset is your brain. Use it.”
She hangs up without another word.
I put the bulky cell phone, otherwise known as my electronic leash, into my purse. The only reason I didn’t “forget it” at home tonight is so I can text Weston and let him know the coast is clear before he heads over to meet me.
The son of a local drug dealer, Weston Silk isn’t the all-American boy or the tall, dark and handsome scholarly type my mother kept trying to set me up with.
He has hair the color of flame and eyes the color of the sky - a palette of heaven and hell that drew sighs from every girl he passed. Including me.
But I didn’t return his sly, slow smiles. I pretended not to notice the way he watched me. I had my eyes on a different prize. Wellesley College - the all-women’s liberal arts college all the way in Massachusetts was my dream school.
My family groomed my brothers, Remington and Tyson, to take over the family business. They groomed me to marry well.
I’d first seen Desiree Rogers in an interview just after she’d become the CEO of Johnson Publishing and it changed my whole world. She credited her time at Wellesley for giving her the confidence to pursue career opportunities in spaces that had traditionally been the domain of men.
Seeing