Page 40 of Ruthless King (Mount Trilogy 1)
“You know I’ll be there on the first flight if you need me, honey. I’m due for a real beignet soon.”
The thought of having my mother in the same town as Mount is even more of a nightmare than my life is currently. I couldn’t even begin to explain or lie to cover this up.
“We’re so busy right now with this big event coming up, and you know if you come, Dad will want to. We both know he’ll be right back in the thick of things, stressing out about all the details, and neither of us wants that for him.”
My mom sighs. “And he’d be stepping on your toes. I know. I know. But soon. You’ll have to come visit us when you can get away for a few days.”
Get away has a whole new meaning now that I spent a night in captivity.
“I will. I promise. As soon as I can.” To myself, I add silently, Or as soon as I happen upon an extra half million dollars, because that would solve all my problems.
“Okay, sweetheart. Talk soon.”
“Tell Imogen and Jury I said hi,” I add, knowing she’s going down the list of daughters to call and check on.
“Absolutely. One of these days, I’ll have you all together again for a happy occasion. It’s going to happen. One of y’all is gonna have to get married and have babies sometime soon.”
“Bye, Mom.” I disconnect the call, hating how much of that conversation was made up of lies.
My sisters and I couldn’t have less in common, and I haven’t seen either of them since Brett’s funeral. It actually shocked me they both showed up.
Imogen has buried herself in her dissertation, determined to land an incredible postdoc position that will launch her fantastic career. She’s the overachiever of the family, but was truly sympathetic at the funeral, some of the only true emotion I’ve seen from her in years. She’s not a typical middle child. She doesn’t act out. She keeps all of her emotions locked down.
Then there’s Jury, who gallivants around the globe, shaking her ass on bars for money. She was a total bitch at the funeral. I believe her exact words were, “Couldn’t have picked a better end for that bastard myself.”
I slapped her across the face and walked away while Imogen gasped and ordered her to have some respect for once in her life.
Jury showed no remorse. Cheaters apparently deserve no sympathy in her book, which makes me wonder who cheated on her in the past, but we don’t have that kind of relationship. I know as much about my sisters’ lives right now as they do about mine, and for once in my life, I’m thankful for that. This isn’t something I want them anywhere near.
I tuck my phone into my pocket and take a step in the direction of the elevator, only for the toy to come to life again.
I shuffle toward the steel doors like a little girl who’s about to pee her pants, and punch the call button with my finger. With a glance skyward, I force myself to think about anything but the buzzing between my legs.
J
ust stop. Please stop.
Once I’m in the elevator, I watch the numbers as it heads for the basement, desperate to get into my office before I spontaneously combust.
I’m going to come.
There’s no ifs, ands, or buts about it.
I shoulder open the office door and burst inside, ready to moan with my release—and the toy shuts off.
My desk lamp is on, and just like he had once before, Mount sprawls in my desk chair like a king on his throne.
“You son of a bitch! Where were you? In the restaurant? Watching my meeting? Trying to screw this up for me? Do you want me to fail? Is that the whole point of this? Because I won’t. You can try to fuck with my head all you want, but I won’t let you take down my business too.”
He leans forward, resting his forearms on my desk. His black-and-diamond cufflinks wink in the desk-lamp light. “Lock the door.”
My chest, heaving with all the righteous indignation pent up from my speech, stills immediately. “This is my office. You don’t control things here.” I’m proud my voice doesn’t waver.
Mount spreads his hands and presses both facedown on my desk as he rises halfway out of his chair. “You still don’t get it.” His tone takes on an amused quality for a moment before it turns sharp. “Don’t make me repeat myself, Keira.”
When I don’t move, he stands to his full height, his hands at his sides. “Lock the fucking door.”
The order is delivered with such quiet menace, I have no option but obedience. I reach back without looking behind me and flip the lock. In the muted light, his shadowed expression is unreadable, but I can’t imagine it means anything good for me.
