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Bossy(67)

By:Kim Linwood


Fuck that. I shouldn’t have to beg.

“Why isn’t the video playing yet? Declan? What’s going on? I thought everything was...” His voice trails off as he catches sight of the frozen video on the screen. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he roars.

Oh for fuck’s sake. “Dad, it’s not—”

“Garrett, what’s—” Annette bursts in and stops as soon as she sees me. “Declan? Oh my God!” Her face goes white and she covers her mouth with a shaking hand.

I finally wise up enough to slap the laptop closed. “Do you all seriously think so little of me?”

They’re all looking at me with a kind of sad pity in their eyes. I’m used to people seeing me and thinking I’m all brawn and no brains. Most of the time it amuses me when they find out they’re wrong. And yeah, I’ve done my share of shit over the years, but always in good fun.

You know what? Fuck them if they honestly think I’d do this. “Why do I even bother? I don’t need your damn pity.”

Claire’s voice is soft. Her mother’s arms go around her shoulders. “Congratulations. You win. I knew these past few days were too good to be true. I can’t believe I fell for it. For you.” She turns to my father and stands up straight. “I hope you understand that it’s nothing personal, but I quit.”

And with that, she turns on her heels and walks out, as fast as she can without actually running. I can almost feel her desperation to get away before she breaks down again. My first instinct is to go to her and fix things, but Dad slugs me in the shoulder and pushes me back when I try.

“Don’t even fucking think about it. You’ve done enough damage for one day.”

This is fucking ridiculous. I’m still holding the closed laptop, and everything boils over. I roar and throw it across the tent like a fucking Frisbee. It smashes into a loudspeaker and a deafening shriek blasts out, the painful, distorted sound mimicking exactly what I’m feeling inside.

I look at my father and my new stepmother. “You can think what you want, but I wouldn’t do this to her. Not even to stop your marriage.” Annette shakes her head, and I pin her with a look. “But you’re not going to believe me anyway, so I’ll leave and you guys can get on with the fucking scallops. Welcome to the family, Annette.”

They don’t try to stop me when I push my way out of the tent. All I’m thinking about is to try and get to Claire before she leaves. I don’t do relationships, and I don’t even know what I want to say. Maybe I’ll find the right words, maybe I’ll fuck it all up again, but I want her to know I haven’t been faking anything.

Claire’s walking along the moat, heading for the front of the castle. She’s moving quickly, but I’m faster in shoes than she is in heels. I grab her arm. “Wait.”

She whirls, her beautiful red curls fanning out in the sun, her hair a waterfall of red and gold. “I have nothing to say to you.” Her words are so caustic I’m surprised they don’t burn. “Oh wait. I do have one more thing. I hope your case crashes and burns. I hope both you and Cooper get everything you deserve, and that not one thing I did helps your defense. At all.” Her usually warm smile is cruel. “Now I’m done.”

“Like hell you are,” I snarl. I’m not sure how to do contrite, but anger comes easily. “You don’t get to fucking pretend what we have isn’t real.”

“No!” She wails. “Because I can’t believe a word that comes out of your mouth. You’ll say anything, and do anything to turn everything around. I’m done!”

I hold her arm tighter as she tries to pull away. “I don’t fucking think so!”

She shoves.

I’d be fine, but my heel slides on the polished cobblestone surrounding the moat. She stands and watches as my arms flail. Suddenly all I see is sky as I tumble backwards.

Fuck. Not again.

My back impacts first, sending water up around me in all directions, then the rest of me follows as I go under. The world blurs, water rushing into my eyes, over my face, closing over me.

Another fucking pool. This is getting ridiculous.

The only upside to landing fully clothed in a pool and watching as the world fades away until your ass hits bottom, is that nothing fucking matters anymore. It’s strangely, uncomfortably and somewhat soggily freeing.

Kicking off the bottom, I launch myself to the surface, the water rushing past me. I burst out, catching the edge with my hands and pulling myself high enough that I see her disappearing into the back of one of the cars we’d hired to drive guests home. “Claire!” I scream at the top of my lungs.