“Interesting.”
“I was just making him breakfast.”
“I’ve been meaning to meet you.”
“You have?” Her voice squeaked, and she tried to clear it.
He smiled. “Do I make you nervous?”
“No, no. It’s fine.” She nibbled her lip. This couldn’t have been any more awkward.
“Does your dad know you’re here?” Draven’s father moved across the kitchen toward her.
The urge to step back was so strong, but she stayed perfectly still even as he brushed past her.
Run.
This man was a monster, a truly evil person.
She sensed it in the way he stared at her. She didn’t know why her father worked for him or why he’d even want to. Pushing those thoughts aside, she kept him in her sight as he grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge.
“Is it okay to … cook?”
“Of course. I’d love some bacon and eggs. You’re going to need to clean up that mess though.”
She stared down at the oozing raw eggs. The shells had cracked.
“Yes.”
She wished she hadn’t come downstairs in such skimpy clothes.
Grabbing a small bowl, she lifted up the carton and placed it inside. She’d have to find the trashcan. Every step she took, she was aware of him watching her, observing her. Her skin crawled from it.
She tried to ignore it, but every glance back at him, she saw him smirking as if he knew he was making her uncomfortable.
After everything was clean, she washed her hands and focused on making Draven some breakfast.
“How are you liking school, Harper?” he asked.
“It’s good.” Her hands shook as she cracked the eggs into a bowl.
Come on, Harper. You’re stronger than this.
“I saw your fight last night.”
The egg she’d pressed on the counter top cracked under the pressure.
“You did? You watched?”
“I find it an interesting sport that my son takes part in. He makes me proud.”
Staring at his dad, she felt a little sick to her stomach. She was under no illusions about this man, and she wondered how Draven had grown up somewhat normal.
He’s not normal.
Killing people comes easy to him.
Fighting is a game to him.
This is the family you need to be loyal to.
“Your face is so easy to read, just like Hannah’s.”
This made her freeze. She didn’t know why he’d brought up Hannah and didn’t care for him to talk about her father’s new wife. “Why Hannah’s?”
“Hannah is an associate of mine. A good one. She’s a woman that knows her place in the world.” He smiled. “Do you know yours?”
For some inexplicable reason, she thought of her mother. She remembered the blood.
So much blood.
The pain.
“Did you know about my mother? About my dad?” she asked.
“Girl, who do you think introduced Ian to Hannah? As for your mother, why should I give a fuck about her?”
“Morning,” Draven said. He walked into the kitchen as if he owned the place, and in a way, he did.
His father had introduced her father to Hannah. He’d set about the spiral that ended her mother’s life.
Alan was staring at her with this huge smile. She hated him even more.
Turning away from him so he couldn’t read her face, she stared at the counter. Right in front of her were a set of kitchen knives.
It would be so much fun to kill him, to make him realize the pain he’d caused her, caused all of them. Tears filled her eyes, and she wanted to hurt him so bad.
He’d helped in some way to take her mother away. It wasn’t fair. None of this was even close to being fair.
You can’t do anything.
Draven moved up behind her. “I’ve got you,” he said, whispering the words against her ear.
The moment his hands wrapped around her, she felt herself stop falling. He magically waved a wand that kept her focused.
Opening her eyes, she turned in his arms to see him smiling down at her. It was forced, but his father was still in the room.
A quick glance over his shoulder and she saw his father wasn’t impressed by this.
“Morning, beautiful,” Draven said.
“Morning. I thought I’d make you breakfast.”
He took her hands, kissing each bandaged one after the other.
“You really don’t have to do that.”
“It’s so very domesticated of your girlfriend, Draven, to cook you breakfast. Make sure she knows her place before you take it any further.”
She heard a chair scrape across the floor and waited for him to leave before collapsing against the counter. She pressed a hand to her chest.
“It was him, wasn’t it?”
“He forced Hannah onto Ian. It was your father who took the bait. In his defense, he took a little longer than my dad anticipated, and he was even drunk the first time.”
Tears filled her eyes as the pain flooded her. “I can’t think right now.”
“You don’t need to think. I’ll finish breakfast.”
She shook her head. “No, I can still do that.” She chuckled. “I meant what I said. I want to feed you a good, hearty breakfast.”