CHAPTER 27
harley
MAV: Stop worrying, princess. Aidan’s gone. I’m fine.
That single text message eased my mind—sort of.
I knew things would never be okay between Aidan and Maverick.
And I was all too aware of how violent his brother could be.
Those two combined stressed me out. I worried about him, probably more than I should’ve.
I should’ve taken his lead and trusted that he was fine.
Unfortunately, anxiety just didn’t work like that, especially when I was already worried about dealing with my own mother.
The front door opened as I climbed the steps upon arriving home. Clifford stood there, waiting to let me in.
“Your mother would like to see you,” he began, and his words made my heart sink. “She’s waiting for you in the kitchen.”
“Of course, she does.” I sighed. Pausing in the entryway, I ran a hand through my damp hair. I could only imagine what I looked like—disheveled and carrying a torn shirt while wearing Maverick’s. Yeah, I was the pinnacle of poise and class.
“Would you like me to make breakfast, Sir?” he asked. “Perhaps something savory to chase her bitter commentary with?”
A loud laugh escaped me as he took me by surprise. The older man smiled at me—the kind meant to be reassuring and tension-breaking.
“Something small would be fine, Clifford,” I said, even though Maverick had given me a bowl of cereal. I hadn’t said a thing about it being stale, but I had picked at it because it didn’t taste good. The alcohol he snuck in his was probably the only reason why he could eat it. “Thank you.”
Drawing in a deep breath, I braced for the conversation I didn’t want to have as I walked through the house. My mother sat at the kitchen table with her morning tea and one slice of avocado toast.
“Good morning, Mother,” I greeted without an ounce of charm. Hell, I didn’t even mean it. My politeness was just for show at this point. We both knew she was about to raise hell over my choices.
She took her time closing and setting down her magazine while I just stood there, waiting for the backlash. Her gaze swept me over head-to-toe with the heavy weight of her assessment, and my pulse spiked, pounding violently in my neck.
“Is there a reason my son looks like a disgruntled heathen?” she demanded.
“Shirt broke,” I told her, lifting the one Maverick had ripped open the night before.
“Speak in full sentences!” she snapped loudly, making me flinch. “You were raised better than that.”
“My shirt broke,” I repeated quietly.
“Your shirt broke.” She said the words as if they were sour sitting in her mouth. “Tell me, Harley, how does one just break a shirt?”
My ears burned hot, and a lump rose in my throat. I hadn’t prepared any sort of answer for that because I hadn’t anticipated her asking it.
“I don’t have a good answer for that,” I whispered, feeling stupid, even as I said the words.
“I’d better not find out you were with that boy last night.”
“I…” I didn’t know what to say. The little bit of preplanning I’d done vanished as anxiety made the room shrink around me. My heart pounded loudly in my ears while I tried to come up with something to say. My voice was barely audible as I kept trying, “I just… I…”
“Speak up!” She slammed her hand on the table, making me jump. I took an instinctual step back, putting as much distance between us as I reasonably could—a habit I’d picked up from time with my grandfather. “Say the words like an adult, Harley. You’re not some unintelligent fool. Where were you?”
I couldn’t lie. Not with her staring at me like she could see right through me.
“I was with Maverick,” I admitted quietly.
“Maverick Fox.” The disdain in which she said his name hurt. Her hatred for him was something I’d never understand. “You’re better than the likes of him. You will always be better than that no-good piece of trailer trash.”
“He’s not—”
“He is, and you know it!” she said over me. “That boy doesn’t want you! All he wants is your money! That’s what they all want! He can’t understand you. He’s playing you.”
“That’s not true,” I replied. “He’s not like that. He’s different.”
“Of course, you think he’s different! You’re naive and easily manipulated.
A fool of a man like your father was.” That comment stung.
I glanced away, my eyes burning with frustration or sadness or who knew what.
“You know nothing about the real world, Harley! Boys like that will always try to get things from you. You have to squash them like the cockroaches they are before they cause problems.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but quickly shut it. It’d do no good. Nothing I said or did would make her see Maverick the way I saw him. The way I knew him. The way he deserved to be seen.
“Now, you listen to me, Harley Christopher Lowell,” my mother began as she rose from her seat.
I forced myself to stand still as she approached.
She took hold of my chin to ensure I was looking at her.
“You’re never going to see that boy again.
I refuse to let that boy ruin your future, and I refuse to let him take advantage of what this family has worked so hard to build. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Mother,” I murmured.
“And do not test me, child,” she continued. “You have no idea just how far I’m willing to go to protect my family, especially from the likes of someone like Maverick Fox. Are we in agreement?”
“Yes, Mother.”
“Good, now go upstairs and take that ridiculous shirt off,” she ordered. “Put on something reasonable, and tell Clifford to dispose of that one.”
Except I didn’t tell him that. Instead, I kept it tucked away in a place where she couldn’t find it. Wouldn’t find it, hopefully. I just didn’t know how to throw away anything that had to do with Maverick.