DECEIT (B723) by Hazel Grace (ebook reader for surface pro .TXT) 📕

“Why do you have two names?” Madelyn asks, staring at me like she’s seeing into the depths of my soul.

Poor girl doesn’t want to do that. She’ll get lost in the thing; it’s a mess.

“People are sometimes born with two names, Maddy,” Hardy answers for me. “It makes them special…and extremely pretty.”

Bishop plucks the box holding his niece’s toy, and half-ass examines it. “Look, Madelyn, we can practice shooting your father with it.”

Mills chuckles at my side and I watch Hardy smirk, walking over to Scarlett at his brother’s side just to ruffle her hair. She swats his hand away, mouth full with food, as Hardy examines the rest of the table, falling onto Camilla next.

“Now, you’re another one I haven’t met before.”

Bishop’s eyes suddenly lock with Kyson’s, passing along a silent message that only they can decipher.

They grew up together. They took care of each other. They ride together. They can read each other's thoughts, apparently.

“I’m Camilla,” she replies for herself. “I grew up with Kace.”

“Huh, no shit.”

“Language, Hard,” Scarlet lightly scolds him.

“Yeah…” Camilla locks her focus on Bish. “We were high school sweethearts.”

Bishop’s face turns deadly as he slices his gaze to her, causing Madelyn to begin squirming. He doesn’t realize it, but he might be squeezing the poor thing from how pissed he looks.

“Hey, Madelyn,” I chime in, breaking through the tension. “Wanna go practice? I’ll teach you how to be stealthy.”

The heavy attention of the table descends on me, and I rise over it, feeling Bishop’s fixed stare follow me.

“What’s ste—step—“

“Stealth,” Bishop fills in for her before leaning in to whisper loud enough for us all to hear. “It means to be sneaky.”

Madelyn’s blue eyes light up. “I wanna learn!”

I coerce a smile, wanting air that isn’t so stifled. “Let’s go. I’ll teach you everything you’ll need to know to beat the guys.”

Madelyn waits for me to round the table to stand at her side and takes my hand, leading me down a hallway to what I’m assuming is her room.

It’s better than sitting with the hoe in the other room.

Emmy’s car wouldn’t start.

And I may or may not be the reason for it not turning over and her slamming her palm against the steering wheel several times before I came out to “assist” her with my sister.

Emmy claims that it’s been running fine. She’s had no problems with it and keeps up with her oil changes and tune-ups.

Except it can’t run when one of the sparks plugs are missing, and I might have it residing in the pocket of my jeans right now.

I said it before, and I’ll say it again—Emmy Lou isn’t leaving my fucking sight to spend several hours in her hotel room while she complies with some stupid ass idea of going to the Hamptons alone.

And while I could just simply explain that to her, I’d rather keep the peace for my sister’s sake, my brother’s waning curiosity, and my sanity.

Except said sanity is wearing thin when my little brother has been flirting, staring, and making every effort in the book to be next to her at any given moment.

If I caught him in Madelyn’s room with her one more time to “check in on them” I was going to make him part of the wall.

My brother’s chivalry was also getting on my fucking nerves when he offered up his bed for her to sleep on. Though, thankfully, my little blonde is more intelligent than that and decided to take the couch in my living room.

Since my sleeping spot—my house—was now taken over and being tampered with Emmy’s scent and fucking body, I took solace in my bedroom for maybe an hour of rest. When my eyes crack open to the sound of the front door squeaking and softly slamming shut.

Pushing myself off the bed, I pace the floor for several minutes, raking my hands through my hair and battling with myself on even leaving my room.

She’s probably uncomfortable with being here and pissed about her car but, fuck me, I lose in my own civil war and silently open my door to make sure she’s okay.

I’m fully aware that I have a hard time staying away. That half of me doesn’t want to steer clear of the vortex that is Emmy Lou Rhodes.

I don’t need a blunt when she’s around. She gets me all sorts of fucked up, like when she played with my niece this evening and created thoughts of her being the mother of my children in the future.

Kindness is easy for Emmy.

Allowing me to publicly being her husband isn’t.

Stepping off my porch, the cool air brushes my skin as the crickets do their thing like they always do. My gaze searches around the front yard to find it empty and lacking a short blonde that consumes my lack of sleep.

She must’ve taken a walk, which would be fine if she knew the area and we weren’t in the middle of nowhere for her to take a midnight stroll.

I draw a step to get onto the gravel road to look either way when I hear a grunt then a faint mewl of pain coming from someone.

The shuffling of rocks sounds to my left and I instantly move, rounding Emmy’s big-ass jeep to find two bodies lit up from the moon overhead.

Emmy is the first thing I notice in the distance, dressed in the white top that my sister gave her to sleep in, when her little elbow swings backward and her fist connects with something in front of her.

A body stumbles back, almost matching her petite frame, but it’s a tad taller, thinner, and…Camilla?

My eyes bulge before I’m stomping my ass over there to make sure I’m seeing shit straight.

Emmy careens backward before digging her bare feet in the sharp and dirty rocks of my driveway. Hands clenched at her sides, she uncoils and stands at her full height. She must see Camilla’s next move because she hunches down to dodge it then delivers a