Draven stood in the entrance to his father’s office. The door was open. A brunette was kneeling on the floor as his father held her, forcing her to snort each strip of cocaine.
From the look of the debris on the table, she’d already snorted five lines already.
He counted the lines quickly and saw fifteen laid out perfectly.
This was new.
His father had gloves on his hands, but the girl, she was lapping up his attention, wanting him to be proud of her.
It wasn’t unusual for him to see this. Drugs were not something he delved into. After witnessing how bad people got for a taste of the drug, he wanted nothing to do with them.
“That’s right. You don’t have to worry anymore. You or the baby.”
“I love you, Alan. So much. I want to be with you.” Her words slurred as she spoke.
“I know. Keep on sniffing it up. The baby needs it.”
Draven turned on his heel and left. Entering the kitchen, he found his mother, swallowing some pills and swigging them down with some scotch.
“Classy.”
“Classy? Your father got another whore pregnant and she thinks she can come and take my place. She has got another think coming.”
In a matter of minutes, his mother’s competition would be dead.
Draven grabbed himself a glass and filled it with water. This wasn’t the worst he’d ever seen.
Staring down at his hand which held the glass, he saw he was shaking. Why the fuck was he shaking? He took a quick swig, finishing off the glass and walked outside. Ignoring the security guards, he took a seat and stared out across the garden.
The girl would die, and in a few months’ time, something else would happen.
Running a hand down his face, he leaned back, closing his eyes, and all he pictured were the sweet, terrified blue eyes staring right back at him. The judgmental gaze shooting fire at him.
He wondered what she’d think if she saw something like this? Would she throw fire or accusations his way? Blame him for how bad the world was?
Harper Miller was filled with ideals, with stupid fucking fairy tales, and he intended to end every single one of them.
Chapter Three
“You look so beautiful,” Hannah said. “See, I told you, showing off a bit of flesh wouldn’t hurt. A bit of work on your legs, and we’ll have you in tip top shape.”
Harper stared across the table at her stepmother. They were on another shopping trip, a trip her father had organized to get her out of the house, and one she hated just as much as the last one.
Their baby was in the tender arms of a babysitter, and Hannah acted like she was a single lady.
She noticed her stepmother liked to wink and flirt at all the available men, or even the ones that were taken.
Some ignored her. Others looked interested.
“I’m going to monitor the food you eat, Harper. It’s for your own good.” She watched as Hannah pulled out a pink, fluffy notebook, sliding it across the table. “I want you to document everything you eat in here. Everything. Don’t leave a thing out. We’re going to have all the guys drooling for you before the year is out. You won’t have to worry about college. All you’ll need is to know how to handle those guys, and you’re dealing with an expert.” Hannah giggled. “I know all the tricks. Just look at your father. He’s so in love with me.” She flicked her hair and laughed.
Right now, I want to die.
Rolling her eyes, Harper pretended the book wasn’t even near her. This entire outing with Hannah had sucked. The clothes she’d been told to wear revealed too much skin, and given the option, she’d rather shred them.
As it was, her father and Hannah hadn’t been able to find her old clothes. When she realized they were getting thrown in the trash each time she put them in the laundry, she now made her way into town, just to wash her clothes.
She no longer cared if someone from school even noticed her. Since Draven had put her on the map, people made her life at school a misery every single chance they got.
There was no point in using her locker as most often, it got broken into. She got shoved and pushed in the hallway, and if she went to the cafeteria, her lunch ended up on the floor.
She carried her bag with her at all times. The books she needed for the day were stuffed inside along with a packed lunch, which she made when Ian and Hannah went to bed.
Gone were the days of laughter and love. Her mother’s beautiful singing voice.
“I’ve got a thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” Getting to her feet, Harper left the salad bar where they were eating lunch, and headed off toward the diner where she’d seen an advertisement for employment.