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The Silver Swan (The Elite King's Club 1)

Page 39

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Suicide note? If it was her suicide note, then what is with her comments about her husband’s hand wrapped around her throat? Maybe they just liked kinky sex. But even as my dry sense of humor tries to make light of an obviously very dark subject and situation, my heart sinks. I felt everything that the woman had written. I was there with her through the birth of her son, as if I was watching a live show. With thoughts of the book, which I’ve decided to name The Book, since it doesn’t have a title, the final bell rings and school is over for the day.

Walking out my classroom, I’m making my way down the rowdy corridor, when Nate hooks his arm around me. “Hey, you.”

“Hi.” I smile up at him. I had forgotten all about Bishop and Ally, and now I’m reminded why I love books so much—the escape. “How was your day?”

He shrugs. “It’s school. What do you expect?”

“Truth!” I say, letting him lead me down to the underground parking lot. “Ready to face your mom and my daddy dearest?”

He grins, slipping his aviators over his eyes. “Nope.”

I stop. “Crap! I forgot. Tatum is coming with us.”

Nate shrugs. “Text her and tell her to hurry up.”

“Is this going to be weird?” I ask him with skeptical eyes.

“What, ’cause I fucked her?”

“Well, yes.”

“No.” He watches me and then exhales, walking up and lacing his hands with mine. “I promise it’s not weird. I’m used to clingy. I know how to handle girls like Tatum.”

I scoff, reaching into my pocket to get my phone out. “Oh,” I grunt, punching in a quick text to her. “I’m not worried about Tatum, trust me.” His smile drops. I roll my eyes. How can he be offended by that? But then it’s Nate. Under the tough, bad-boy exterior, he has a very large ego. Shocker. He cares about himself, so me insinuating that Tatum isn’t interested hurt his little feelings. Hitting Send on her text, I clarify, “What I mean is that she’s not clinging. She used you like you did her.”

Tatum texts back almost instantly, saying she’ll meet me at my place.

Nate laughs freely, brushing me off. “See? Perfect. Maybe I should hit it again if she understands the deal.”

I nudge my head. “First of all, no. Leave her alone. Second of all, she’ll meet us at home.”

“Do I need to have the talk with you about my friends?” He looks at me under his arm as we start walking toward the elevator that leads to his vehicle.

I scoff. “No, definitely not.”

Because it’s too late.

YOU KNOW THAT PART IN movies where you see the two toddlers who got caught drawing on the walls, or cutting up their mother’s new Egyptian cotton sheets, sitting on the sofa, attempting to look innocent as their parents sit opposite them, disappointed and deciding what they’re going to do as punishment?

Yeah, Nate and I are the toddlers right now.

“Madi?” my father asks, looking down at Nate’s arm that is snaked around my waist casually as we sit on the L-shaped couch. I shuffle anxiously, not liking the way my dad’s obviously uncomfortable with Nate’s arm around me.

“Hmm? Yes?” I decide to aim for innocence. Innocence always works with my dad. He actually thinks I’m naïve and probably thinks I’m still a virgin. Technically speaking, that wouldn’t be a hard thing to admit when you’re seventeen, but not all girls have my life or had my life.

Elena exhales, standing from the leather couch. “Michael, it’s fine. They’re kids. It’s what they do.” She pauses. “At least they get along enough to throw a party.”

I honestly didn’t think my dad would mind, not that I’ve ever thrown a party before, but he’s an absent-ish parent. I’m almost certain his punishment card is void. He punched that ticket when he left me the week of my fifth birthday.

Dad gets up from the couch, his eyebrows drawn in and the wrinkles around his eyes deep. He looks to Nate. “No more.” Then he disappears down the hallway with Elena on his trail.

“Whoa!” Nate laughs, leaning back on the couch and tilting his cap lower to hide his eyes.

“Whoa?” I whisper-hiss. “Are you kidding me?” I elbow him and get off the couch. “This is your fault.”

He chuckles, the unfazed asshole that Nate is. “I’ll take that.”

“Nate!” I pinch his arm.

“Ouch!” He whacks his hat up higher until his eyes zero in on me. “What?”

“You were supposed to take care of the garbage bins!”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I specifically remember doing them. Me and Tatum went around….” He trails off, his eyes gazing off into the distance.

“Hmm? You and Tatum went around where?” I tap my foot in frustration.

Nate laughs. “Okay, I’m sorry!” He gets up off the sofa, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me into his body.



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