Page 32 of Trailer Trash

“Killian,” I scold low, not bothering to hide the irritation in my voice. “Give it to me. Now.”

“Dang,” says River, then laughs loudly, as if this situation could possibly be funny. “She’s laying down the law.”

I can’t believe no one is backing me up. Not even his parents. I look at his dad, hoping for a little help.

Unfazed, Clark mutters into his wineglass, “That’s why I hired you. You don’t hold back. Killian needs that.”

What the heck does that mean? I’m supposed to be the dad?

All I can do is scoff, but instantly regret it since he’s my boss.

I have zero support.

Confused and frustrated, I release Killian’s wrist and glare up at him. He smirks, wicked as ever. Yes, he definitely likes upsetting me.

Oh.

I’m upset. But why? He isn’t my boyfriend. Him failing is not my failure. It’s just work and patients often relapse. That’s what I expected.

Actually, this is what I wanted.

It’s sad, but I’ll be free.

I gather myself, relax my face, and speak calmly.

“Sorry. I’m out of line. Go ahead.”

Instantly, his smugness fades and something flashes in his eyes. Something raw and real.

He sets down his glass, his fingers lingering on the stem as if letting go is painful. “Yeah. Maybe I’ll pass this time.”

My pulse quickens, stunned.

I can’t help but beam up at him, practically jumping for joy. I shouldn’t be this happy, but holy shit, I got through. Twice now. He might actually listen to me, unlike Evan.

The thought is dangerous enough that I bury it immediately.

Frida snakes over and picks up the glass. She drags her index finger down the middle of his chest.

“Are you sure? It is important to celebrate, Killy.”

“Killy?” I blurt, like I have any right, but she’s obviously manipulating him!

God, why am I getting upset?

I look at Killy, I mean, Killian, waiting for him to dismiss her pathetic attempt to—

“We need to talk. Privately,” she says, her tone suddenly serious. “Before the wedding.”

Her purse shifts open just enough for me to see the black handle of a taser tucked inside.

My stomach drops.

Killian sees it too. He doesn’t flinch.

“There’s nothing left to say. Go marry him. You obviously don’t trust me if you need a weapon around me.”

She snaps her bag shut. “Killy, I’m worried about you, and I still love—”