The Takeover (The Miles High Club #2)(65)

Chapter 14

I sit up with a start and flinch. “What are you doing here?” I snap.

“This is my room,” he barks.

I lie back down and pull the blankets over myself. “Well, I’m sleeping here. Get out.”

“Why, you—”

I sit up like the devil himself. “Listen, kid,” I whisper through gritted teeth. “I’ve had a really bad fucking night, and if I get up now, I’m probably chucking you out the window.”

“Are you going to make me cry?” he whispers in a baby voice. “Mommy doesn’t like big scary men picking on me.”

I narrow my eyes. Why, you conniving little shit. “You cry to your mother, and see what happens to you,” I whisper angrily. “Don’t push me, kid.”

“Don’t push me,” he growls.

“Get out,” I whisper.

“This is my room. You get out.”

I glare at him. “I’m not moving.” Our eyes are locked, and then, as if having an epiphany, he smiles darkly, turns, and storms out.

I lie back down and stare at the ceiling for a moment . . . what was that evil smile for? What is he up to?

Claire.

I sit up in a rush and nearly run down the hall to her room. The door is shut, and I put my ear to it and listen.

Is he in there?

I swear, if he tells on me . . . he’s dead meat.

I can’t hear anything. I look left, and I look right. Nobody’s around. I slowly open the door, and I find Claire fast asleep. I slip in and close the door behind me and flick the lock.

I creep toward the bed. Claire is sleeping on her back, her hands above her head. I find myself smiling as I watch her. She’s like an angel.

She’s so beautiful.

I look around the room. Her presence is so strong in here. God . . . I just want to take her in my arms and kiss her.

But I can’t . . . can I?

I raise an eyebrow as I watch her.

Maybe?

I slink into her bed and lie on my side, facing her. I watch how her lips part as she inhales. Her dark hair is messed up, and her eyelashes flutter. My eyes drop lower, down over her neck, her perfect décolletage . . . down lower to her floral nightdress and the tiny patch of white skin that disappears beneath it.

I’ve never known a woman as beautiful as she is.

She’s perfect—everything about her is perfect.

Her eyes flutter open, and she frowns at me, as if trying to focus.

“Hey,” I whisper. I pick up her hand, and I kiss her fingertips. She watches me in some kind of dazed state. “How did you sleep?”

“Tris.” She frowns.

I smile. She’s back; my soft girl is back. “Yes, baby, I’m here.” I lean closer to her.

I hear a bang, bang, bang on the door. “What are you doing in there?” the wizard screams through the door.

She jerks back from me and seemingly comes to her senses. “Oh my God.” She looks around with wide eyes. “What are you doing?” she stammers.

“What am I doing?” I snap. “Shouldn’t you be asking what the fuck he is doing?”

Bang, bang, bang sounds on the door as he pounds it with his fist.

“Tristan,” she whispers.

“I nearly died last night, Claire, between the cement couch, the clock, the cat, and now the fucking crazy nut outside.”





She jumps out of bed.


“But it was all worth it . . . just to see you wake up,” I say.

She stops. Her eyes meet mine, and I smile softly.

“Tristan,” she whispers. “What are you doing here?”

I shake my head, lost for words because I don’t even know. “We need to talk.”

“I’m going to rip you apart with my bare hands,” the wizard yells.

Oh my God . . . this kid is cramping my style.

“You have to go,” she whispers. “This is not the time, Tris.”

Bang, bang, bang echoes through the solid door.

For fuck’s sake.

“That’s it.” I get up and storm to the door and open it in a rush. He falls in because he was leaning on it. “What are you doing, you psychopath?” I bark.

“Tristan,” Claire warns me.

“What are you doing in here?” Harry yells.

“Getting my keys.” I look around. “Nope, can’t find them. Not in here.” I march out and down the stairs, away from Claire.

That kid is a fucking cockblock.

I go down and snatch the overnight bag I’d brought in from my car and walk toward the bathroom.

The wizard steps in my way. “I’m warning you,” he sneers, “stay away from my mother.”

I glare at the self-righteous little shit in front of me. “I’ve got two words for you.” I hold up two fingers.

“What are they?”

I lean in real close. “Boarding. School.”

He narrows his eyes. “You’re going down, pretty boy.”

I grit my teeth. “Bring it.” I storm into the bathroom. I have no idea how to handle this little shit. I’m going to have to try to talk to Claire when I can get her on her own. There’s no point staying here with him carrying on like this. If I lose my shit with him, that’s it—I can kiss her goodbye for good.