by Linda Kage
I slammed to a halt, breathing hard as all my hair flew into my face. Shoving it out my eyes, I stared up at him while he sent me a triumphant sneer.
"Now, what were you saying again about not fearing me?" He stepped away from the door toward me, and I couldn't help it, I shrank backward. "And what was that about not being intimidated?"
I clenched my teeth and lifted my chin as I backed up for every foot he came forward. "Fuck you. You're an evil, disgusting old lecher, and you make me sick."
The insult only caused him to chuckle. I was down to my last bag of defiance, and he knew it. "Where were you tonight, Eva?"
"Out of this house," I growled. "Away from you. That's all that matters."
Realizing he'd backed me into a corner of bookshelves, I let out a whimper that only made the foul glint in his eyes brighten. He was taking away my attitude, my bluff. The only things I could control were slipping through my fingers.
"You drank at this party," he said, hovering inches away and making my breathing spike out of control. "I can smell it on you. Did you have sex too?"
I wanted to keep being Brave, Defiant Eva and hiss something like, "What? Are you jealous?" but with him this close, my courage fled with my smart-mouth and my insolence. I was nothing but a pathetic quivering ball of distress. And I hated him for that.
His gaze dropped to my cleavage. Shuddering, I bowed my head and wrapped my arms over my chest. I also hated being an early developer. I hated my d-cup breasts. And I hated how he always looked at them.
"I know what you're trying to do, baby doll." The whiskey on his breath choked me and made my eyes water. "You think being with all those boys is going to wipe me off you, but it won't. I'll always be there. I'll always be your first. My touch has forever stained you."
When his fingers grazed over my shoulder and down my arm with a soft, slimy caress, I lost it.
"No!" With nowhere to run, I fought, swinging out and catching him across the face.
I'd forgotten I was still holding my sandals in a death grip. The hard, pointy heels caught him in the cheek, jerking his face to the side and slashing open a gash that had my eyes popping wide and my jaw dropping with shock.
Oh, shit. I'd never struck him before. He was so going to kill me for this.
He roared out an enraged bellow and lifted his palm to his cheek. As his attention slowly rotated around to focus on me, I backed more snugly into the corner, cowering from him. He lowered his hand and looked at the blood on his fingers. When I saw his arm tremble, hope surged to life inside me. I'd scared him . . . or something, something shocking enough to give me a slice of hope. A slice of power.
Brandishing my sandal in a threatening manner, I lurched forward, making him stagger away.
"You will never ever touch me again, do you hear me?"
"You little bitch." Seething, he brought his fingers to his face and applied pressure to the wound, making blood gush out the sides. "You're just like your mother. I'm the head of his household and if you do anything to embarrass us, I'll see that you regret it for the rest of your life. Do you . . . hear me?"
I didn't answer. I was too busy circling around him until I was the one closest to the door. Then I turned tail and raced for the exit. Once I made it out of his office, I dropped my shoes and dashed up the stairs. I didn't slow down until I reached my room and locked myself inside. Backing away from the closed door, I brought my hand to my mouth, waiting for and expecting him to come pounding and shouting. He had a key; he could get inside if he wanted to.
But he didn't.
After nothing happened for a solid five minutes, I sank onto my mattress and hugged myself, shaking uncontrollably. Then I curled into a ball and nestled my head on my pillow, allowing myself to drift away and dream. I wouldn't be here forever. Someday I'd leave this house. I'd leave Florida. And I'd be free. I'd be whatever the hell I wanted to be.
I just had to be patient and wait. But it would happen.
It had to, otherwise, what was the point of suffering through this day in and day out?
Chapter 1
EVA
Five Years After Eva's Prologue—Present Day
All men were bastards.
As I watched my cousin's boyfriend begin to lose his temper, I rubbed my swollen belly, relieved the baby inside me was a girl.
Okay, fine. I would've loved her no matter what gender she was. I think it was impossible not to love this thing growing in there that wiggled around day and night and got hiccups at the oddest hours, or jumped when a loud sound startled her. But at least I was relieved I wouldn't have to watch her grow up to become one of the bastards.
"I'm just saying," Mason gritted out from between clenched teeth as he gripped handfuls of his hair and paced the small kitchen. "We can't afford to keep buying all this baby crap for Eva. Why does she need a changing table anyway? Why can't she change a damn diaper on the floor, or the bed, or hell . . . anywhere?"
I'd give him this; he'd lasted longer than I'd expected he would. But eventually, every guy had a breaking point where he couldn't hold it in any longer. He had to let his bastard side out. Couldn't hide it forever.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I glared at him while Reese—my cousin, best friend, personal hero, and Mason's girlfriend—sat at the kitchen table, looking guilty as spit while she huddled in her chair, hugging herself. I hated how bad he was making her feel when I'd been the culprit and begged Reese to buy me that stupid changing table in the first place, because it had matched the crib they'd gotten me, and I . . . damn it, I just wanted the best for my baby.
But I kept forgetting I wasn't a spoiled little rich girl anymore, and the money in this household didn't flow like water as it had back home. It was going to take me time to realize I no longer had Daddy's blackmail money to squander. Except I wished I could hurry up the pace and straighten myself out because I hated watching Reese take the blame for my spendthrift transgressions.
I opened my mouth to defend her, but she sliced me a quick, threatening glance. I'd promised before moving in that I would never interfere in any fight she had with her boyfriend, which hadn't been all that hard of a promise to keep up until now, because usually Reese and Mason were disgustingly happy together. It didn't seem normal that they rarely fought.
And that's why I trusted Mason least of all. Just like my father, he could put on a good front. He could smile and bat his pretty boy eyelashes, and people adored him. Out in public, he could do no wrong. Even Reese freaking worshiped him as if he were some kind of saint.
But I knew he had to have a bastard hiding in there somewhere. He had a dick; it was inevitable. And since he was so good at hiding his rotten core, I was extra cautious around him.
He'd even been a complete gentleman to me one night at a party a year back when I'd tried to get into his pants . . . way before Reese had ever met him, of course.
I'd heard the rumors. People said he was a gigolo, he had sex with women for money. That alone lit him up on my radar as a candidate to take me to my safe, numb place. But then he'd turned me down, and he'd been freaking nice about it. He'd told me I'd been drinking too much, and he'd even offered to drive me home. That's when I knew he was worse than most of them. He was just another Bradshaw Mercer—a bastard hiding under the façade of a gentleman.
I'd been living here with Reese and Mason for three months now. And every night, I'd stayed up late, waiting for that inevitable moment when Mason would try to sneak into my room and get handsy. Just like my father had. I'd even piled empty soda cans in front of my bedroom door so it'd make a racket and wake Reese. She could catch him in the act and finally boot his bastard ass out.
But he'd never once done anything against me.
After three months of occupying the same apartment with him where he didn't try a damn thing, I was beginning to wonder if maybe, possibly, there were actually a few good guys in the world after all.
But then tonight happened. When Mason opened the credit card bill, he t
otally lost it, and now he was moments away from revealing his inner jerk. Once he did, everything would be right with the world again. I could go back to knowing I was dead-on: all men were bastards.
"I'm sorry," Reese said, her blue eyes swimming with misery as she looked up at him. "We can return it, I swear. I just got carried away. I wanted her baby to have everything and be spoiled rotten."
There was another reason I loved Reese. She already adored my little girl as much as I did.
"But it's not our baby," Mason muttered. "It's hers." He sent me a contemptuous glare, and I could feel just how much he resented having me around.
How Reese had ever talked him into letting me move into their snug, two-bedroom duplex apartment in the first place, I'll never know. He'd never made me feel welcome, not that I blamed him. I had completely invaded his love nest and fucked up his happily ever after. I'd resent me too. I would ignore me whenever possible. And when I was forced to talk to me, I'd probably treat me with cool disdain as well.
That was fine; he could hate me all he wanted. But he was not allowed to treat Reese with anything less that absolute adoration.
Except I didn't like where this conversation between them was headed.
"She should be the one to take care of that kind of shit. We're already providing a roof over her head, all her utilities, food, everything. And we can't even afford that."
"I know. I know." Reese began to wring her hands. It made my skin itch to watch how placating she was being. "Maybe I can . . . I'll find a job. Something that pays."
She already babysat Mason's little sister between her college coursework, but ever since they'd started dating and she'd moved here from Florida, she no longer took money for watching Sarah.
"No," Mason muttered with an irritated growl as he spun away to rub his hands over his face. "Your time's already stretched way too thin as it is. I don't want anything else cutting into your school work."
Aww, there he went, trying to act like a nice guy again, pretending to want what was best for Reese. The bastard. Determined to flush out his inner monster, I finally spoke up.
"Well, I guess I could get a job." I spread my arms apart so I could put my big, pregnant belly on display. "What do you think? If I took after you and sold myself on the street, would anyone buy an hour with me in this condition?"
I knew that was a low blow; I really should get a job. But my words were also completely uncalled for. Another rule Reese had made me adhere to before letting me move in with her was that I never, ever mention what he used to be before they'd moved here. But I wanted to push him over the edge already, so my cousin could see just how much of a bastard he really was.
I realized I'd made a mistake a second too late, right around the moment Reese gasped and slapped her hands over her mouth.
Mason sliced me with a glare. He stared at me so intently I held my breath waiting for him to finally lose it. My brain skipped around the kitchen, wondering what kind of gadget I could use to defend myself if he turned violent. His scowl told me just how much he wanted to wring my neck.
But instead of saying or doing anything, he turned away. Shoulders rigid and hands fisted at his sides, he marched from the kitchen, into the small living room and yanked open the front door of the apartment.
Reese leapt out of her seat. "Mason?"
He paused as if the tremor in her frightened voice held him captive, but he didn't turn around. Lifting a hand over his shoulder, he grated out, "I have to go." Then he fled the apartment. He didn't even slam the door in his wake.
Both Reese and I gaped at the closed exit. Well, I certainly hadn't expected him to do that. I'd pushed him past the limit. I'd made him angry enough to release his bastard, but he'd chosen to walk away instead of engage.
Shit. That wasn't good. A bastard definitely would've engaged. Why hadn't he engaged me in a fight? Called me a bitch? Taken a swing? Kicked me out?
This was all wrong.
Reese whirled toward me, her eyes wild. I tripped a step backward. Oh, double shit. She was beyond pissed.
"Why did you do that?" she cried. "E.! I told you not to ever, ever mention anything to do with that again. You know how much it bothers him."
I wrapped my arms protectively around my stomach, though I have no idea why. Reese wouldn't do anything to hurt my baby. I just couldn't help it. Old habits die hard.
"He . . . he was being a jerk to you."
"No, he was not. He was freaking out about the credit card bill . . . for a damn good reason. Money is a very sensitive issue for him."
I already knew that. Reese had confided to me months ago why Mason had become a male prostitute to begin with, how he'd felt the need to see to his family's security and how his landlady had blackmailed him into servicing her.
It all sounded heroic the way she told it, making him out to be this really good, stand-up guy. But I was so stuck on my theory that inside every male lurked a selfish, devious, evil prick, I just couldn't think of him in noble terms.
Except now that he'd opted out of releasing his anger on me, I was confused.
"I never should've bought that stupid baby changing table. Damn it, we haven't even gotten diapers yet. How the hell are we supposed to use a changing table if we don't even have diapers?"
My throat felt raw as I watched her break down. This wasn't her fault. It was mine. Every stressful issue for her in the past few months had been my fault because I was here, invading her life and mooching off her and her boyfriend.
But I pushed my guilt aside because knowing what I should do—leave her and try to make it on my own—scared the crap out of me.
"I can't believe he just left," I said, still stunned.
"Me neither." Reese lifted her face and pinned me with a strange stare as if a new idea had struck her right before her face drained of color. "Oh, God. What if . . . what if he doesn't come back?"
I started to shake my head. Impossible. Mason was just as addicted to Reese as she was to him. Bastard or not, he'd never leave her. But tonight had been a breaking point for him. Maybe he couldn't forgive her for letting me move in with them. What if, because of me, he just couldn't take this anymore?
Reese must've seen the worry on my face, because she let out a whimper and sank into the kitchen chair, covering her mouth with both hands.
"Ree Ree?" I stepped toward her with my arms open. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
I didn't apologize often—rarely ever—but for Reese, I would. She was the only person on earth, other than the little girl swimming around in my belly, who I loved.
But she held up her hand, warding me off.
I stopped in my tracks, watching helplessly as tears slid down her cheeks. "Just leave me alone."
Backing away to respect her wishes, I retreated to the doorway where I'd watched her and Mason fall apart to begin with. But that wasn't enough for her.
"Go . . . away," she screamed.
I scurried around the corner and pressed my back to the wall just out of sight of her. Then I slid down until I was sitting on my butt, and I listened to her weep into her hands. Hugging myself, I just sat there, feeling like crap and rubbing my belly for my own comfort.
Reese had gone above and beyond for me; I never should've broken her rules.
Then again, we probably wouldn't even be in this predicament if she hadn't come to Florida in the first place.
I'd had everything planned out. A few of my things were discreetly packed, money had been tucked away, and my escape plan was complete. As soon as I graduated from high school, I was going to leave Bradshaw and Madeline Mercer for good. I was going to be free.
But then Reese had run into trouble. Her loser boyfriend at the time—another bastard, of course—had tried to kill her, and she'd needed a safe place to stay until everything blew over and he was put behind bars for good.
I had snorted when I'd heard that one. Safe place? Here? Whatever. But my mother had already made plans with her sister—Reese's mom—and Reese ca
me to the Mercer home to stay with us whether I approved or not.
Well, I didn't approve. I didn't want sweet, innocent, fun-loving Reese anywhere near my father. I somehow talked Mom into making her stay in the loft above the garage, so at least she wouldn't be sleeping under the same roof as him. And then I delayed my plans to leave. I was probably the worst kind of safeguard between her and Bradshaw Mercer ever, but I wasn't leaving her alone with that monster.
So I enrolled into the local community college with her, and took classes with her, and I kept dating Alec, the egotistical asshole I'd had a summer fling with. I totally didn't plan for her to meet Mason and fall head-over-heels in love with him. And I didn't plan to get knocked up with Alec's kid. And I most certainly didn't plan to get shot by Reese's psycho ex-boyfriend who finally found her. But I'd been through a lot of shit I'd never planned on happening. So I had to evolve and deal with what I got.
By the time Reese moved back home to Illinois and took Mason with her, Alec—who turned out to be the typical bastard—had dumped my ass, and my parents had demanded that I quietly get rid of the little embarrassment I'd created with him.
But that's one thing I hadn't been able to do. I'd never thought of having kids. I'd never wanted to be a mommy. I was too fucked up for that kind of shit. But now that there was a baby growing inside me, nothing else mattered but taking care of her. I was not going to hurt my child, a little piece of complete innocence I was supposed to love and nurture. I refused to become my parents. I was going to devote my life to this kid and make sure nothing bad ever happened to her.
So I had forgone the abortion my mommy and daddy had tried to pressure me into. Instead, I ran to Reese, begging her to take me in. It was too bad I'd already exhausted most of the money I'd saved for my escape. I could've helped Reese and Mason with some of their financial worries, but I wasn't used to saving, so I had nothing.
Sitting on the floor in the hallway of their apartment as I listened to Reese weep, I wondered why she didn't just boot my ass out now. It seemed like every time I'd ever tried to help her, I'd screwed the whole situation up and only ended up hurting her more. Me and helping someone other than myself just didn't mix. I'd always been too concerned with conveying a certain image so no one would ever know my secrets to worry about anyone else, and now that I did care, I was a complete bumbling idiot about it.
