“But nothing. I don’t want you around him. He’s dangerous.”

Dread coils my stomach and my throat locks up.

For some strange reason, I never wanted to believe the gossip.

Probably because despite Knox being an asshole, there’s still a tiny part of me that sees a flicker of humanity in him, buried underneath all the evil.

However, it’s obvious I’m a moron who’s been deluding herself this whole time, given Leo’s genuinely concerned for my safety.

“So the rumors are true,” I whisper. “Knox killed his mom.”

Oh, God.

I know Trent loves his son, and I can’t imagine the position he was in after his wife died, but Knox obviously needs serious help. It’s clear his year stint in a mental institution didn’t do shit if Leo’s scared of him.

Leo folds his arms around me. “I’ll tell Trent not to let him near you.”

Too late.

“You can’t,” I whisper when it occurs to me.

“Why not?”

“Because then he might think something’s going on between us.”

Leo huffs. “I’m not just going to stand by and do nothing.” Walking to the nightstand, he picks up his wallet and shoves it in his pocket. “Dammit. I told Trent not to marry your mother. I told him it—” He shakes his head. “Doesn’t fucking matter. What’s done is done.” He treks over to the door. “I’ll figure something out. In the meantime, just stay the hell away from Knox.”

With that, he slams the door.

And I’m left wondering how the hell I’m supposed to stay away from someone when we both live under the same roof?

Chapter 8

Aspen

I jolt when there’s a knock on my bedroom door.

It’s Sunday night, and I’ve avoided Knox the entire weekend. Not that it was all that difficult considering neither of us go out of our way to speak to one another.

“Come in,” I mutter, staring down at my math textbook.

Mrs. Larsen gave us a shit ton of homework this weekend, and I haven’t even made a dent in it.

The door opens and my mom pops her head in. “Dinner will be ready in ten minutes.”

“I have a lot of homework to finish. Save me a plate.”

Or not. Either way, I don’t care.

She frowns. “Trent wants us to all eat dinner together as a family. You know this.”

Annoyance bursts through me. I have no interest in playing the part of the doting stepdaughter.

“Tell Trent he can go fuck himself.”

She closes her eyes. “Aspen.”

I’m not sure what makes me cave. Maybe it’s the forlorn way she says my name, or the uneasy way she’s worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

“What’s going on, mom?”

Her green eyes widen. “Nothing. What makes you ask that?”

“I don’t know,” I snap, closing my textbook. “Maybe because you’re suddenly acting like some kind of Stepford wife.”

And like you actually give a shit about being a decent mother.

She looks around the empty hallway, like she’s scared someone might overhear the next words out of her mouth.

“Mom—”

She presses a button on the vacuum and the abrupt hum cuts me off.

Before I can question her any further, she walks over to my bed.

“Trent’s late wife’s parents had a lot of money before they passed. Money Trent and his son inherited after she died.” She frames my face with her hands. “That money can set us up for life, baby. We just need to—”

I pull away from her touch. “I’m not doing a damn thing.”

God, she makes me sick.

Honestly, I should have known better. It’s always the same thing with her. Using men for money.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she hisses. “You know how hard things have been since your dad died.”

Yeah, hard enough I had no choice but to become a stripper.

Which is still a hell of a lot more noble than what she’s doing.

“Aspen—”

I shake my head. “No.”

I have absolutely no interest in conspiring with her like we’re Thelma and Louise. As far as I’m concerned, she’s on her own.

“Please,” she pleads, her lower lip trembling, “do this for me.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask her what she’s ever done for me.

However, guilt prickles my chest. Because whether I like it or not, the woman is still my mother.

I ball my hands, hating the position she’s putting me in.

“Fine,” I concede. “I’ll go downstairs for dinner. But that’s it. I want no part in whatever it is you’re trying to pull.”

“Thank you,” she says, walking over to the vacuum to shut it off. “I made Trent’s favorite—meatloaf and mashed potatoes.”

Of course she did.

“How was everyone’s weekend?” Trent asks after we’re all seated at the dinner table.

Knox and I stay silent.

“I joined a new fundraising committee,” my mom chirps after another minute passes. “We were thinking about throwing a party here next month—” her sentence trails off when her husband glowers. “I suppose I can always ask Janine if she’d be willing to host it at her house instead.”

“It’s fine,” Trent says. “Host the party here.”

My mom’s face lights up. “Really?”

Biting into his meatloaf, he nods. “Yeah. It’s about time we did something entertaining around here.”

I shift uncomfortably when I feel his attention swing to me. “How was your weekend, Aspen? Do anything fun?”

Took my clothes off for money and spun around a pole.

Gave a few old men lap dances.

Oh, and fucked your forty-eight-year-old brother in the back of his car while it was parked behind a grocery store.

That was kind of fun.

“Not really.” I push my food around my plate with my fork. “Studied with Violet.”

“I see.”

I’m not sure what to make of his tone, but I don’t have time to dwell on it because Knox pushes his chair back and gets up from the table.