Bad Girl by Goode, Ella (chrysanthemum read aloud .txt) 📕

“It’s beautiful,” I admit, taking the queen from him. Why the hell did Chris have to put this on my stupid made-up resume? I know absolutely nothing about chess. It doesn’t usually take me long to pick up on things with my memory, but on this, I have no freaking clue. I’m going to have to distract him so that he doesn’t realize I have no idea what I’m doing.

I don’t even know the name of half the pieces, let alone how to play. I try to search my brain to see if I’m able to recall a moment of someone else playing near me. If I could only remember, I could at least pick up some pieces and pretend, but I’m drawing a blank at every turn.

“I figured only the best for someone with your skill set.”

“Right.” I put the queen back down on the counter. “So sandwich?”

He gives me a curious look. “I thought you’d be more excited. You don’t want to play?”

“With you?” I smirk. “That would be like shooting fish in a barrel.”

“I don’t mind losing. Especially to the best.” His smile is genuine. He’s so different than I thought he’d be. He doesn’t let his ego get in his way. I’ve noted that a lot with him. Even yesterday after what we did, he hadn't pushed or gloated over it. If it wasn't for the past or the things I know about him, I think I could actually fall for him. But I do know.

“Maybe tonight.” I shrug, picking up my sandwich and taking a bite.

“Why not now? You could teach me a few things. I haven't played in years.”

“I said I don't want to,” I snap, not meaning to. His brows lift in surprise at my outburst. “Sorry.” I mumble. I really wasn’t prepared for any of this.

“Leila,” he starts, but I cut him off, giving him something else to focus on.

“I didn’t get to meet my father. He passed before I got the chance.”

Warren leans back in his chair, his focus finally off the chessboard and on me. “I’m sorry to hear that. How long ago?”

“Months. I missed meeting him by months. He killed himself and never even knew I existed.” He reaches out, placing his hand over mine. I quickly jerk my hand back. “My mom didn’t tell me about him. I only found out after she died when I was going through some of her things.”

“Do you wonder why she might have not told you about him?” Yes. All the damn time. For so long I thought it was because he didn’t want me. But according to Chris, that wasn’t the case. There had to be a reason why my mom kept me away. Sometimes we could barely make ends meet, but she never reached out to him for anything. Not even child support. Before he’d lost it all, it seemed my father was more than well off.

“It wasn't her decision to make.”

“You’re right. I think as a partner these things can be difficult.”

I nod in agreement. “I hate that I’m angry with her right now. It’s not what I want to feel when I think about her.”

“There is nothing I could say that will make you feel better, sweetheart, but I’m sure your mom had her reasons. But you have the right to be mad, and I’m guessing she’d understand that.”

“You’re right.” I nod. She would have.

“You won’t stay mad. You’re still working through it, but one day you’ll think of her and that anger won’t be there.”

“I’m not sure that day will ever come,” I admit. “All I ever feel is anger. It’s consuming.”

“Would you like me to look into your father? See what I can find?”

“No!” I went too far. “Don’t. It is what it is.” Warren starts to stand to come over to me. “I need a second.” I dart past him, quickly heading down the hallway to escape to the bathroom, where I can lock myself inside and get it together.

Why in the hell did I tell him all that? Once I opened my mouth, it all came spilling out. He sat there actually seeming concerned for me. I turn the water on and begin washing my face. I will not let myself cry. I have a mission to complete, and I need to focus on that. I can’t allow Warren to keep distracting me.

When Chris found out I was here with Warren, he was fucking over the moon. He’s pushing me to get closer to him. Problem is, it’s Warren that’s getting close to me. It pissed me off too that Chris wanted me to use my body as a weapon. I’m not a damn temptress.

It doesn't mean I can’t get information still from Warren without that. I pull out my phone and text Chris. I should have done it hours ago. Why I didn’t, I have no clue. It might even be too late at this point.

I fill him in on the Park Hill deal. I pull the saved file and attach it before I delete any trace of the information off my phone and put it in my pocket. Guilt is starting to eat me alive.

It’s seeping in from all around me. Guilt for my father and not staying on top of my game. Guilt for what I might be doing to Hugo Reality. Warren said it used to be his father’s. And to my surprise, the part I feel the worst about is the fact that I’m betraying Warren. I shouldn’t have any guilt over it, but I do. No matter how many times I reassure myself that I’m avenging my father’s death, the guilt still remains.

I grab a towel to wipe off my face. The only time the guilt and anger aren’t trying to consume me is when Warren has his hands on me. The control he had over my body felt good. It was freeing. I could let everything go