Page 32 of Mr. Devereaux


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“Tell me.” I forgot how fucking stubborn she could be. Which is exactly like Abigail.

She folds her arms over her chest. “It was my first night, okay.”

Relief floods through me. “So you’ve never done this before me?”

“Duh.”

“You’re acting very bratty, Charlize. I thought after all these years that chip on your shoulder would’ve worn off a bit.”

“Sorry to disappoint. You can drop me off at the next corner, that’s clearly all I’m good for.”

I take a long breath, trying not to let my rage show. I don’t like this at all. And she’s not going to be fucking men for money. That I can guarantee.

“Yeah, nice try. You can’t play a player, Charlize. You should already know that. You’re a smart girl, but I do have one burning question.”

“Impotence can be treated.”

I stifle a chuckle, but it comes out wrong. “You think I suffer from impotence? I think we both know that’s not true.” I know she’s just trying to rock my boat, but still, I’ve never had complaints about my cock before.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

I choose to ignore her snipes and continue. “What I was going to ask was why are you doing this? Having sex for money. I thought you got an education.”

She shakes her head, letting out a huge sigh. “There you go again, making assumptions. It isn’t just losers who choose to do this. And for the record, I do have an education, no thanks to you.” She’s no idea I paid for her tuition and I’d like to keep it that way. Because she wanted to study hospitality management, dear old Grandma didn’t think that was a reputable enough occupation. In fact, I may have had a hand in helping her get the fuck away from that old crony when she applied for the American exchange program. There was no other way to get her away from the toxicity she’d already endured. If Charlize thought her grandmother gave her the money to go, then I can live with that. The main thing is; she did get away. And she never went back.

“I guess the money’s good. Some girls can’t go past the big bucks, am I right?”

She laughs. “Five grand for tonight? Hell yeah, I’ll be able to afford to go to Ibiza, or Paris…”

I frown. “You have no money?”

She goes quiet suddenly, like she’s already said too much.

“Charlize?” I press.

“Dear old grandma didn’t give me shit —when she was alive and when she died — if you really want to know. I’ve had to work for everything I have. If it wasn’t bad enough that I was born an illegitimate mistake, then it certainly didn’t get any better when my mum married you. Did it?”

“Trust me when I say it was never meant to go down like that. I had no idea that Abigail was suffering.”

“Because of me.” Her face is distraught, and I don’t like it. “She was always angry because of me and the fact she had me so young.”

I shake my head. “No, that isn’t it.”

“Really, Alistair?” Her temper flares. “It really seems a lot like it to me. In fact, I’d go all out and say it was an equal match between dear old Mummy and Granny in the hatred stakes. I was never going to be good enough for either of them and you know it. I often wonder why she even went through with the pregnancy at all.”

I turn to stare at her. Is she joking? “Charlize.” My voice is pained. “Don’t ever speak those words ever again. I know your mother couldn’t show you what you meant to her — she never had that kind of upbringing herself. Look at the mother she had raise her. She was never good enough, either. She didn’t know how to show affection or love let alone be loved. None of this is on you. Do you hear me? None of it.”

She curls her knees up and rests her head on top, her arms wrapping around. She says nothing more, in fact, her eyes close as I keep driving to my townhouse.

She’s not going home.

She’s never going home, not until I make this right.

I don’t like hearing her say those words about herself, and I know I have a lot to make up for, but I don’t plan on that taking another seventeen years.

By the time I’m pulling into the drive and the automatic gates move aside, I can tell she’s fallen asleep. She looks like an angel. Her head resting back as her golden locks fall over her pretty face.

I feel a surge of protectiveness wash over me and try to push down the images of her naked body from my mind. What a fucking mess.

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