“Why?” I scream, causing Landon to stop just before pushing the doors open. “Why do you act like you care about me? That you want to run away with me in our own world one second, but in a blink of an eye you act as if you can’t look at me? That you hate me?” I sob, tears filling my eyes.
Landon shakes his head, not even looking at me.
“You wouldn’t understand,” he mumbles under his breath. With all the emotions swirling through me, I almost didn’t hear it.
As soon as Landon leaves and the double doors close, I clench my fists and scream. Angry because Landon just made me realize I do care about him, about us. And he only cares about himself.
The ache in my chest creeps through my body, making a violent sob escape my lips. I’m alone. I was before, I am now, and I will be tomorrow. I used to think I could take the little bits of care Landon gave me before, but now that I’ve had a taste of what it feels like to be in the warmth of his arms, I can’t take those scraps anymore. I can’t bear the cold feeling I get when I’m not with him. I need all of him, or nothing at all.
SEVENTEEN
LANDON
“Landon, where is the new girl’s paperwork?” my father asks, shifting through some papers sitting in front of him. A couple of times a week, we meet to discuss business, usually in a room that adjoins my office. It’s simple with just a large table and chairs. I sit here, tapping my fingers along the top of the table, lost in thought as my father rambles on.
Nobody tells me no, and no woman walks away from me – especially Charlie. I close my eyes, the darkness behind my lids vibrating with Charlie. Her long, brown hair and small frame. Her attitude is feisty, but her shaky hands give away she’s petrified.
Charlie is different. She’s not like any woman I’ve come across before. The taste of her is sweet, her smell an aphrodisiac. My cold exterior with her is failing miserably. I lose myself around her. I can’t keep my mind set on what I need to do, and what’s expected of me. All I can think about is… Charlie. I clench my eyes hard and inhale a deep breath. It makes me feel sick that I would even think it, but Charlie is worth breaking my commitment to my mother.
“Landon!”
I promised her I would bring back the family name. I told her I would see to it that the Blackwell name become one of respect and power again. That I would make this estate rise from the shame my father placed upon it. But how can I do that if I break the first step in making this place strong again? I took Charlie to make a statement to the thugs of Vegas, that the Blackwells were back. That—
“Landon!”
I open my eyes, finding my father, Roman, and Veronica staring at me, my father and Veronica in annoyance and Roman with concern.
“I’ll get it to you,” I mutter, sitting up in my chair.
“Where did you say you picked her up from again?” my father questions, tilting his head to the side and narrowing his eyes.
“Mick. She was one of Mick’s girls,” I inform him, exhaling a tired breath. I’ve told them this before. Them asking me over and over again, and them not calling her by her first name even though I’ve told them it before, it’s them telling me they don’t approve. Which means I’m probably doing something right.
“I’m not so sure of this one. She’s…” Veronica trails off, flipping her hair over her shoulder. I straighten my tie and smirk. Veronica doesn’t like her because she smells competition. Call it what you will, but Veronica and I have played a game of back and forth behind our parents’ back since my father and Tara got together.
I don’t care about Veronica, not at all. In fact, I haven’t even slept with her. I just like to watch her become so desperate for what lies in my pants. The woman is pathetic. I’ve seen escorts with more self-respect.
“Nobody really cares what you think, Veronica. In fact, why in the hell are you even in here?” I tilt my head to the side, eyeing her. She gasps, her eyes wide as she looks at my father in shock.
“Landon!” my father scolds.
“Do I need to remind you, Father, that I am in charge now? Not you, and surely not Veronica. You signed everything over to me, remember? And Charlie is mine, and she’ll be our finest girl yet.” I smile wolfishly at them, making Veronica scoff.
“Get me the paperwork. In charge or not, this is a family business and we are family,” Father insists.
“You’ll get it when I get it to you, Miller.” Venom laces my every word. I’m not sure why he’s taking interest. He’s never cared before.
“Don’t you use my first name. I am your father, and you will call me as so!” he roars, slamming his poor excuse of a fist on the table. I detest calling him my flesh and blood, but it’s easier than listening to him ramble on about how family sticks together. It’s bullshit. Where was he when my mother was dying?
“Yeah, sure. Are we done here?” I push my chair out and stand, fastening the button of my jacket.
My father gives me a cynical eye and quietly nods.
CHARLIE
Heading toward the kitchen, after changing out of my dress and into something more comfortable, I find Tara leaving the dining room with a tray of food.
“Oh, are you hungry?” she asks, her tone friendly. I smile and nod. Her blonde, silky hair reaches her breasts, and she’s wearing a short robe, revealing the tops of her thighs down to her bare feet.
“Yeah, I’m just heading to the kitchen to get something,” I reply, running my hand along the dining room table.
“They just kicked me out. They’re getting ready for the party tonight. You can come to my room and watch a movie, help me finish off these chicken strips,” Tara offers with a friendly smile. “There’s no way I can finish them all.” She giggles and scrunches her shoulders up.
“Nobody wants to run off to your room and be buddy-buddy, Tara,” a tall, black-haired woman insults, walking out of the kitchen. Tara swallows and looks the other way, her expression sheepish.
“And you are?” I ask, glaring at the woman. She has long hair with a gold band wrapped around her head, with a long, flowered golden dress to match. Her eyes are wide and colored green, her lips blood-red to match her nails.
“I’m Tabatha, the number one escort of the estate,” she sneers, popping her hip out proudly and crossing her arms.
I scoff. This woman seriously has her priorities messed up.
“Tara, I would love to hang out,” I state, my eyes never leaving Tabatha’s. She snorts and smacks her lips together in a ‘go figure’ manner.
“Veronica was right,” Tabatha smarts.
I furrow my brows in confusion. “About what?”
Tabatha gives a tight-lipped smile, and walks past Tara and me. “Nothing. Enjoy your loser party,” she remarks. “Don’t forget to throw up afterwards, Tara,” Tabatha mocks.
After she leaves, I look over and find Tara looking down at her tray of food sadly.
“Does Miller know she talks to you like that?” I scoff. Tara frowns. “No, I can take care of myself,” she snaps.
“I didn’t mean-“
“You don’t have to join me. I’m sure you can get some cookies or something.”
“No, let’s go,” I insist. I am very intrigued by Tara.
She looks up, her face bright and cheery.
“Really?” she whispers. I nod and grab a chicken strip from the tray.
“Follow me,” she instructs. “With the party tonight, the girls are going to be wandering around the estate. They aren’t all that bitchy, though,” she continues.
I follow her up the stairs, and instead of going toward the left or right wings of the house, we go straight, passing a bunch of windows that display the setting sun. She presses her back against a door, juggling the food tray, and pushes it open.