Chapter 1 #2
“Asshole,” I mutter, gripping my steering wheel so tightly my knuckles ache.
Focusing on the drive, I turn up the audiobook I’ve been listening to, choosing to ignore reality and lose myself in the spicy romance instead.
Because my car is so old, the only way I can listen is by turning the audio up on my phone, but it’s better than nothing.
I’m just getting to a good part when I pull up to the large mansion at the end of a cul-de-sac.
With a heavy sigh, I stop the book and gather my stuff.
The house is ridiculously huge, and it’s shared by Kaylee and her brother, Scott, and whatever assortment of friends that decide to crash there at any given time.
Their parents died last year in a car wreck, and everything was left to their two spoiled children.
It’s my responsibility to keep the monstrosity clean, do all the laundry, and cook their meals.
Because the job is such a big one, they gave me one of the bedrooms in the basement that I can live in rent free.
It’s not a terrible job. There’s certainly worse out there.
The pay is pretty good, and because of Scott’s involvement with drugs, an involvement that I willingly turn a blind eye to, it means that I get paid under the table.
All that cash goes straight into my mom’s hand to pay for her treatments.
She hates it, but I refuse to take no for an answer.
“It’s about time,” Kaylee barks at me as soon as I walk into the gaudy, marble-floored foyer with the giant painting that Kaylee made when she was going through her I’m an artist phase.
It’s supposed to be a vase of wilted flowers, but somehow she managed to make the sunflowers look like big, hairy testicles that are drooping over the sides of the vase. I want to laugh every time I see it.
I turn to face her, noticing the pout she’s giving me, the same one she’d used on all the guys in school to get whatever the hell she wanted. “Sorry, I tried to hurry.”
“You know how important tonight is for me. Did you pick up my dress?”
I hold the dry-cleaning bag out to her, fighting the urge to roll my eyes at her words.
A date with some rich plastic surgeon’s son, yeah, super important, especially since she’ll just be going on another one tomorrow night and the next night and the next night.
She’s probably hoping to score some free breast implants out of this, though, so she might hang onto this one for a while.
She grabs the dress and runs off right as Scott walks in.
Her brother eyes me, but I can tell I’m about as interesting to him as a stain on the wall.
He’s a few years older than us and was already graduated by the time we got into high school.
His reputation was still alive and well, though.
If you wanted an illegal substance to either keep you awake during finals or let you relax on the weekends, Scott was your man.
His long hair is tied back in a ponytail, and I’m guessing it’s been several days since it’s seen water or shampoo.
Even after a shower, Scott always looks a bit skeezy.
He gives the impression that if you ran your finger over him, you’d be left with a residue, like wiping your finger over the oven after you’ve cooked bacon.
“What the fuck are you looking at?” he asks, walking by close enough for me to get a whiff of his unwashed body.
“Nothing,” I murmur, already turning to go to my room before I start cleaning.
“I need your ass to clean my bathroom.” His voice drifts down as he slowly climbs the stairs. “The bitch I brought home last night couldn’t hold her alcohol. It’s a fucking mess.”
I bite back the heavy groan I want to give and instead think about that chemo port that’s going to make my mom’s life so much easier. I can stomach a bit of vomit for her, at least I hope it’s just vomit.
“I’ll be there in a minute,” I say before heading down to my room.
Changing into some old jeans with holes in the knees and a T-shirt that’s so faded there’s not even a hint of the original pink it once was, I grab my cleaning caddy and phone, stuffing the earbuds in as I make my way to Scott’s room.
Giving his door a knock so I don’t accidentally walk in on something that’s guaranteed to give me nightmares, I wait until he hollers for me to come in.
He’s in the corner staring at his computer screen, and I hope like hell he’s not watching porn.
At least his screen is facing away from me so I don’t have to watch whatever the hell he’s scrutinizing so closely.
When I step into his bathroom, I immediately dry heave and step back out. He laughs at my reaction.
“Told you it was bad.”
I want to ask how in the hell he tolerated this all fucking day and why the hell he couldn’t get off his lazy ass and just pick it up himself, but I don’t.
I keep my mouth shut and grab a mask from my caddy and put it on before turning my audiobook up and getting to work.
I swear this girl threw up everywhere but in the damn toilet.
An hour later, the bathroom is spotless and I’m seriously rethinking my life choices.
It’s not like I haven’t applied for better jobs, but every place wants work experience and great references.
I can’t get hired for some nice desk job with benefits without ever having had a damn desk job with benefits.
It’s an endless loop that I get so fucking tired of.
Resigning myself to my fate, I grab the dirty clothes that are strewn about and leave his room so I can hit the rest of the bathrooms on this floor.
At some point I hear the front door open and the loud voices of Scott’s friends as they come in to destroy all the hard work I’ve just done.
Washing up, I switch to preparing supper and am just putting the casserole in the oven when Kaylee walks in, looking stunning in the black dress I’d picked up for her earlier.
She’s about my height and has long dark hair, but that’s where the similarities end.
Her eyes are a hazel while mine are grey, and she has a body that makes men line up to talk to her, even without the big fake breasts she’s hoping to score.
“Oh my god, what part of low carb do you not understand?”
I shut the oven door, hiding the Ritz cracker chicken casserole from her judgmental eyes. “Sorry. I just figured that since you were going out tonight, you wouldn’t mind. I was planning on salmon and steamed broccoli with the mashed cauliflower you like so much for tomorrow night.”
The meal plan seems to appease her. She gives a slight huff before grabbing a bag of baby carrots from the fridge to munch on while she waits. Her eyes run over me. “You know, if you stayed away from carbs, you could drop the weight you’ve put on.”
What the hell? I know I’ve put on a couple of pounds, but it’s not like I’m spilling out of my goddamn clothes or anything.
With Kaylee, if you can’t see ribs poking out, then you’re eating too much.
I refuse to give in to that bullshit way of thinking.
I like food. Whatever. I also enjoy exercising and working up a good sweat, so in my mind, it all evens out.
“Hey, Kaylee, looking good,” Sebastian calls out, walking further into the kitchen and eye-fucking the hell out of her in her tiny black dress.
The rest of Scott’s friends pile in, and Kaylee basks in their admiration.
God, some things never change. Flashbacks from prom flit through my mind of her being crowned queen while everyone fawned over her and I stood in the corner in an ill-fitting dress feeling like the world’s biggest dork.
I don’t trust anyone who says high school was the greatest years of their life.
I’m convinced that if it wasn’t traumatic, then you were doing something wrong.
Sebastian’s dark eyes run over me, and when he walks by, he lets his finger drag along my lower back. “How’s it going, Maddie?”
“It’s fine,” I say, stepping back and out of his reach. Sebastian’s a good-looking guy, but he’s also an ass who will fuck anything with a vagina and then tell his friends all the details of how good or bad it was. I do my best to avoid him as much as possible.
He gives me a wink and grabs one of the clean glasses, running his tongue up the side while he keeps his eyes locked on mine. “Better clean that,” he taunts, setting the glass down on the counter and walking away with a laugh.
“Dude,” Scott says, laughing and slapping him on the back. “You’re going to hurt her feelings and then she’ll be crying too hard to clean the toilets.”
Darin and Seth linger in the doorway, smiles playing at their lips because apparently insulting me is just the funniest thing ever.
Seth tongues the lip ring at the corner of his mouth, which could easily look sexy if anyone else were doing it, but his unskilled tongue is just flopping around, leaving a wet smear of slobber along his lips.
I turn before I start dry heaving and check on the casserole, only half listening when they start talking behind my back about how much money they made selling pills last week.
As a rule, I try not to pay attention to most of what they say, because the less I know about the laws they break, the better, but my interest is piqued when they mention the mafia.
“Those fuckers have completely taken over the whole damn city,” Scott says, grabbing a bag of chips and taking one of the seats at the island.
“It was bad enough when the Irish were in charge, but at least they were kind of lazy about things. It was easy to sneak things by them. The Russians are a bunch of fucking psychos, though.”
“Yeah,” Sebastian says, chiming in as he grabs a handful of chips. “Don’t piss off the Medvedev brothers or they’ll cut you into pieces and leave your ass all over the city.” He laughs and adds, “Or they’ll just cut your tongue out.”
“So why exactly are we going up against them?” Darin asks, and I’m beginning to think he’s the only one with even a shred of common sense.
The others laugh at what they must consider a stupid question.
Scott answers with, “Because it’s a lot of money, and we’re not going to get caught,” proving that he’s the stupidest of the lot.
I’ve heard rumors about the Medvedev Bratva, we all have, and if even half the shit I’ve heard is true, it’s enough to prove that anyone with even a smidgen of brain cells should stay as far away from them as possible.
The doorbell rings, cutting of their conversation and making Kaylee give an excited squeal before dropping her bag of carrots and running for the front door.
A few minutes later she comes back in with a man on her arm who looks exactly like how you’d expect some rich, preppy ass to look.
His blond hair is perfectly styled, his tan an even bronze across his flawless skin, and the suit he’s wearing probably cost a fortune.
He looks like he should be wearing tiny white tennis shorts with a sweater tied around his neck.
God, I bet even his name is something stupid like Bennington Buckworth II or some shit like that.
“This is Preston Winterborn III,” Kaylee gushes, and I bite my tongue so hard I’m afraid I might actually draw blood.
Knowing I can’t keep the laughter out of my eyes, I turn and busy myself with getting the casserole out.
She introduces her brother and his friends, and I wish I could ask him what he really thinks of Kaylee’s greasy-haired brother.
When I set the dish down and look over at him, he’s too busy eyeing Kaylee to give her brother and his friends much thought.
I’m not surprised when she doesn’t introduce me, and I’m definitely not surprised when Preston doesn’t ask who I am. I’m not even a tiny blip on his radar.
Kaylee smiles up at him before putting on a pair of stilettos that I’d break my neck in and leading him out the door.
I’m guessing she won’t be back until tomorrow morning.
Scooping out a healthy portion of the high-carb-but-delicious casserole for myself, I leave the rest for the guys and sneak off to my room.
With the bowl balancing on my stomach, I send a text to my mom, asking if she’s okay, and when she gives me a thumbs up, I grab my laptop and start scrolling through Netflix.
Settling on a Nordic detective show, I get comfy and try very hard to not think about the vomit-coated bathroom I’d cleaned earlier or about how pathetic my life is turning out to be.