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Authors: haron Hamilton
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fingers on her flesh, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek, or stuck between the wet line of her lips. She felt those lips touch hers and pray in an erotic kiss.
If that other man were in front of her right now, she’d ask him to tuck her under his arm and take her home as fast as his car could go. Or perhaps drive her all the way to New York at a hundred miles an hour, without stopping. Away from this home, from this family. Away from this man now standing before her.
“You are the second person recently to tell me it wasn’t my fault.” Melanie watched as dullness came to Peter’s dangerous obsidian eyes.
As if struggling to regain his composure, he righted himself, then answered, “Obviously, my dear, you didn’t listen to the first person. Perhaps now you’ll listen to me. You shouldn’t trouble yourself with things beyond your knowledge.”
“And you have that knowledge?”
“Perhaps your friend was just giving you a line. Trying to get you to some place with him.” Peter gave a practiced smile.
“No. I’m talking about it not being my fault,” she said.
“But it isn’t.” He bowed to within an inch of her face. “And I’m offering you a better place.” Peter’s steady gaze chilled her again.
“As if death was a better place,” she said. The pit of her stomach felt packed with cold tar. She saw a dank and sad place, and knew Felix was looking back at her from there.
Chapter 9
Melanie thought her mother, Georgia Worthington, was good at anything she wanted to be. She knew her mother as the more talented of her two parents, the smarter one, and the one who should have been the success in the business world. She had the gift of looking soft while being as ruthless and cutthroat as any person could be. After you’re left bleeding on the floor, dying, that’s when you realize you’ve underestimated her.
Her mother’s palatial house was in order except for her rogue daughter. Mel almost thought her mother would have been happier if Mel had actually succeeded in killing herself along with Felix. Now Mrs. Worthington had to live with the taint of a daughter who’d consorted with a disturbed boy. The story was going round that Melanie had tried to make him change his mind. But obviously Felix’s parents weren’t buying it.
Her mother was efficient and expert with social calculus. Melanie knew there were two reasons she’d been invited to dinner. One was to meet an eligible bachelor, completing some diabolical plan of her mother’s. The other was to clean up the mess Felix’s suicide had made. She wanted to be sure there was no resulting taint on her household. She needed to speak to Felix’s parents, and she couldn’t do it without Mel. They had to be brought “in line.” Had to get their stories straight.
The burning hatred Melanie carried for her mother was eating a hole in her stomach.
Although she had no appetite, Melanie obediently sat next to her mother’s right at the table, the place of honor. Perhaps it was the place a quick right hand could catch a gun or knife as it was brought out to do a dark deed. Across and one over from her sat the ever-confident Peter, next to her father. The placement afforded Mrs. Worthington additional moments to touch her daughter’s forearm and give her a smile carved out of granite with a jackhammer—her version of motherly love. The effect this false smile had on Melanie couldn’t have been greater had her mother clutched her with claws and drawn blood for all to see.
Melanie was sure Peter understood, for while he looked on her with lust, he had a thoroughly devoted expression on his face as he fluttered his eyes discretely towards Melanie’s mother, without looking at her directly. Mel found this to be curious.
Another male with mother issues. It did take her mind off the boring non-events at dinner.
Even if she found Peter attractive in a strange sort of way, the fact that he could tolerate her mother was such a huge
If that other man were in front of her right now, she’d ask him to tuck her under his arm and take her home as fast as his car could go. Or perhaps drive her all the way to New York at a hundred miles an hour, without stopping. Away from this home, from this family. Away from this man now standing before her.
“You are the second person recently to tell me it wasn’t my fault.” Melanie watched as dullness came to Peter’s dangerous obsidian eyes.
As if struggling to regain his composure, he righted himself, then answered, “Obviously, my dear, you didn’t listen to the first person. Perhaps now you’ll listen to me. You shouldn’t trouble yourself with things beyond your knowledge.”
“And you have that knowledge?”
“Perhaps your friend was just giving you a line. Trying to get you to some place with him.” Peter gave a practiced smile.
“No. I’m talking about it not being my fault,” she said.
“But it isn’t.” He bowed to within an inch of her face. “And I’m offering you a better place.” Peter’s steady gaze chilled her again.
“As if death was a better place,” she said. The pit of her stomach felt packed with cold tar. She saw a dank and sad place, and knew Felix was looking back at her from there.
Chapter 9
Melanie thought her mother, Georgia Worthington, was good at anything she wanted to be. She knew her mother as the more talented of her two parents, the smarter one, and the one who should have been the success in the business world. She had the gift of looking soft while being as ruthless and cutthroat as any person could be. After you’re left bleeding on the floor, dying, that’s when you realize you’ve underestimated her.
Her mother’s palatial house was in order except for her rogue daughter. Mel almost thought her mother would have been happier if Mel had actually succeeded in killing herself along with Felix. Now Mrs. Worthington had to live with the taint of a daughter who’d consorted with a disturbed boy. The story was going round that Melanie had tried to make him change his mind. But obviously Felix’s parents weren’t buying it.
Her mother was efficient and expert with social calculus. Melanie knew there were two reasons she’d been invited to dinner. One was to meet an eligible bachelor, completing some diabolical plan of her mother’s. The other was to clean up the mess Felix’s suicide had made. She wanted to be sure there was no resulting taint on her household. She needed to speak to Felix’s parents, and she couldn’t do it without Mel. They had to be brought “in line.” Had to get their stories straight.
The burning hatred Melanie carried for her mother was eating a hole in her stomach.
Although she had no appetite, Melanie obediently sat next to her mother’s right at the table, the place of honor. Perhaps it was the place a quick right hand could catch a gun or knife as it was brought out to do a dark deed. Across and one over from her sat the ever-confident Peter, next to her father. The placement afforded Mrs. Worthington additional moments to touch her daughter’s forearm and give her a smile carved out of granite with a jackhammer—her version of motherly love. The effect this false smile had on Melanie couldn’t have been greater had her mother clutched her with claws and drawn blood for all to see.
Melanie was sure Peter understood, for while he looked on her with lust, he had a thoroughly devoted expression on his face as he fluttered his eyes discretely towards Melanie’s mother, without looking at her directly. Mel found this to be curious.
Another male with mother issues. It did take her mind off the boring non-events at dinner.
Even if she found Peter attractive in a strange sort of way, the fact that he could tolerate her mother was such a huge
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