Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71701 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71701 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
I swallow as he slices a finger in the direction of the door. “Mercedes, your brother will be here any minute. Get upstairs, now.”
“Santi?” I choke out his name. “Is he okay?”
“Goddammit,” Judge barks. “There’s not time for questions. Please.”
He drags a hand through his hair, and I nod, offering an apologetic glance at Solana and Georgie as they rise from their seats.
“It’s okay,” Solana says, but all the while, she’s glaring at Judge. “We’ll come back tomorrow. But text me tonight so I know you’re okay.”
Judge doesn’t miss her inference, and Georgie shoots him a sharp look too. I feel like I should defuse this situation before things get any worse, but Judge doesn’t give me a chance. He grabs me by the arm and hauls me from the room, calling out for Lois to escort my guests out. I give them one last fleeting glance before we turn the corner, and Judge is snapping at me again.
“I told you to be ready for this afternoon.”
“I am.” I try to yank my arm out of his grasp, but his hold is too tight. “Jesus, what’s the big deal? I thought we were just going to a Society event. Why is Santi coming here?”
He doesn’t answer me as he drags me into my old room and plunks me onto the chair. His eyes are wild as they move around the space as if he’s only now realizing none of my stuff is in here.
“Stay put,” he demands.
I frown at his retreating form and then promptly disobey him by scurrying over to the bed to hide the small burner phone Solana and Georgie brought me. There’s enough time to stuff it under the pillow before I hear Judge’s footsteps, and I dash back to the chair. He enters the room right as I’m recrossing my legs, eyes me suspiciously, and then starts to offload some of my things.
I stare at him like he’s lost his mind as he tosses a few dresses onto the bed, a necklace onto the table, and one of my books onto the nightstand. And then it all falls into place. Is this why he’s so out of sorts? Because he’s terrified Santiago will realize Judge has been fucking me every night in his bedroom? The realization stings, but then, when doesn’t it? Everything Judge dishes out comes with a side of pain.
“I suppose it wouldn’t do to have him see I’m sleeping in your bed every night?” I observe bitterly.
“No, it wouldn’t fucking do,” he clips out.
God, he really is in a mood today. And now I am too. So much so that even when Santi appears a moment later, hovering in the doorway, I can’t seem to wipe the irritation from my face. He sees it, frowns, and then looks at Judge.
“Everything okay?”
“Yes,” Judge grits out. “I’m just trying to get Mercedes ready.”
I shoot him another withering glance at that lie, but he acts like he doesn’t notice. Santi, however, definitely does, and the disappointment on his face is clear.
“Are you causing problems?”
“No.” I cross my arms and stand. “I don’t even know what the hell is going on. I thought we were just going to a Society event, and then Judge comes home all out of sorts—”
“You didn’t tell her?” Santi arches a brow at Judge.
“No.” Judge shifts, his discomfort obvious.
“Well, can somebody kindly tell me what the hell is going on?” I demand.
Santi sighs, scrubs a hand over his face, and I don’t like the regret I see in his eyes when they fall back upon me. “You’re being called before The Tribunal, Mercedes.”
I don’t know if it’s the floor or my stomach that drops out as his words register. “What?”
“I thought we handled everything,” he says quietly. “But it appears there’s some evidence we didn’t know about. It’s been brought forward, and we have to go deal with this.”
“Oh, my God.” I nearly choke on the words, shaking my head as nausea unfurls in my gut.
“It’s going to be okay,” Judge tells me through clenched teeth, but even I can hear he doesn’t know that for certain.
“What evidence?” I whisper. “What do they know?”
“You really should have told her.” Santi frowns. “We don’t have much time. We’ll explain in the car. Is that what you’re wearing?”
His eyes move over my flared baby doll dress, and I force a stiff nod. It’s not my usual style at all, but it hides my curves, and he seems glad for it.
“That’s good,” Santi says approvingly. “You look… innocent.”
His tone implies I’m far from it, but I don’t have the energy to respond. I can barely think as they guide me out to the waiting car and help me inside. So many thoughts swirl around my mind that my head feels like it’s going to explode.
I can’t believe Judge didn’t tell me about this. And on that note, why the hell didn’t Santi? A deranged laugh almost bursts from my lips as I even consider it. Of course, they didn’t tell me. Because this is how Society men are. They handle everything as they see fit. Everyone else be damned. If I actually expected anything else, I’m delusional.