At First Hate (Coastal Chronicles)

I swallowed hard and backed up a step. “It’s a no. Just go.”

“All right,” he said, running a hand back through his dark hair.

Then, those hazel eyes met mine again, and something hardened in them. I wouldn’t have noticed if I wasn’t so attuned to his various looks. But he almost looked like he was psyching himself up for something.

“What?” I asked. “Just spit it out.”

He smirked. “I forget that you know me so well.”

Which only made me scowl and cross my arms. “Fine. Don’t.”

I started to shut the door in his face again, but he reached out and stopped me.

“I came for this.”

When he was sure I wasn’t going to close the door, he extracted an envelope from his briefcase and held it out to me.

I narrowed my eyes at him and took the packet. “What’s this?”

I broke the seal on the large envelope and pulled the stack of papers out of the inside. My eyes scanned the top of the document in confusion. They were court papers. Derek’s name was on it. But that didn’t make sense.

“You’re… suing me?” I asked in disbelief.

“Keep reading,” he said softly.

And for some reason, the softness in his voice made me realize that this was a lot worse than I’d thought. I ripped the entire thing out of the envelope and let it flutter to the ground at my feet. Then, I read the top document. My eyes widened and then widened further.

I looked up at him with uncertain eyes. “My mom and aunt are suing me? What the hell, Derek?”

“Technically, they’re contesting the will.”

The world dropped out from below me. My vision dipped, and everything felt momentarily disorienting. As if up were down and down were up. Not a thing about this made sense. Not the paperwork. Not the words coming out of Derek’s mouth as he explained to me in legalese what was going on.

I held my hand up to get him to stop fucking talking as I tried to hold down the scant breakfast I’d had this morning. I put a hand to my mouth. I wouldn’t throw up. I wouldn’t cry. I’d had enough tears. I just needed to fix this.

“Mars?”

“Just shut your fucking mouth,” I snarled.

I shook my head and righted myself again. My mom—who had never been there for us, who had all but sent Gran into an early grave—thought she deserved a cent of Gran’s wealth? My aunt—who I hadn’t seen in a decade despite living in the same small town—thought she deserved Gran’s house? Were they out of their ever-loving minds?

Derek straightened at my words, swiftly dropping back into his attorney mode. “I’m here on behalf of my clients—”

“I said, shut up. I don’t need any of your bullshit, Derek. I certainly don’t need you to explain what this is to me. I understand completely. What I don’t get is why the fuck it’s you.”

“I’m an attorney.”

“You’re the owner’s kid. You have a Harvard law degree. Why are you taking this on? Is this about me?”

His eyes narrowed. He always hated the reminder that he’d only gotten what he had because of his dad’s money. Tough shit. “No. Contrary to what you think, not everything in my life is about you.”

I laughed harshly once. “Nothing in your life is about me. I remember that all too well.”

“My dad gave me the assignment. I’m up for partner, and when he says to do it, I do.”

I shook my head at him. “Same old, same old, huh? He says jump, and you say how high.”

“This isn’t personal.”

“It sure as fuck is,” I snapped at him. “And you knew it, or you wouldn’t have been trying to sweet-talk me.”

“Trust me, I know sweet-talk doesn’t work on you.”

I ignored him and walked back inside. I snatched Maddox’s keys off of the hook. Then, I pulled Gran’s Pinkberry lipstick out and added another coat to my lips. Body armor.

“Marley, are you even listening?”

“No.”

I was far past done listening to him. He had a snake’s tongue, and I’d fallen for it time and time again. This time, I had no intention of listening to another word out of his mouth. I needed to deal with this issue at the source. And Derek was just the intermediary.

I slammed the door shut and then brushed past him, taking the stairs two at a time to the street. Maddox’s shiny, new Jeep Wrangler Rubicon, which he’d named Nancy, was parked in Gran’s old spot across the street. He wasn’t any better at parallel parking than he’d been in high school.

“Marley,” Derek groaned, following me down the stairs. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to fix this,” I told him.

He grabbed my elbow before I reached the sidewalk. “Wait, wait, wait. Are you going to go talk to your mom?”

I shook him off with a pointed glare. “Yes.”