Page 125 of Give In

She’d given out personal information about a student. That they were her parents held no bearing—Eden wasn’t a minor.

“I didn’t know. I got a frantic call from Dean Hoffman’s office this morning, telling me a governor was coming to visit his daughter. I had no clue she hadn’t invited them until I saw that poor girl’s face.” Closing her eyes, she rubbed her temple. “She’s your student, you must know her. Would she sue?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think Miss Wilder is the litigious type.”

Her shoulders slumped. “Well, I hope you’re right. Someone’s losing their job for this, and it sure as hell isn’t going to be me. In the meantime, I’m going to get that asshole to write this school a big check.” Pasting her smile back in place, she walked out to finish giving the tour to a drunk and a dick.

Anyone who says women can’t run shit has clearly never met Camila Diaz.

Pulling out my phone to message Eden, I saw a single text waiting.

Mine:I’m sorry.

She’d lied about a fuck-ton outright. She’d lied by omission even more. I had a long list of questions that were overdue answers. And then I’d spank her ass so hard, she wouldn’t be able to sit fortwoweeks.

But first, I’d take care of my depraved angel.

It was about time someone did.

*******

Eden

“Look what you do to your poor mother. The stress of having her own daughter so ungrateful.” My dad shook his head. “It’s breaking her heart.”

It wasn’t her heart that was broken. It was her liver.

Mom was drunk.

To be fair, being reunited with her only child was reason to celebrate. But when it came to Mom, any holiday, birthday, wedding, funeral, bar mitzvah, or Tuesday afternoon was reason to pop a bottle.

“I’m sorry,” I said, ever the dutiful daughter.

Standing up for myself would only result in giving them more to use against me. As would running from them, which was exactly what I’d wanted to do when I’d heard my dad’s voice in the hallway.

But a Wilkes never made a scene. They didn’t have outbursts—good or bad. No polarizing opinions, no strong thoughts, and never an interest in anything that wasn’t wholesome and family friendly. Keeping my mouth shut and my head down was the only way to survive with my sanity.

I pushed my food around my plate.

“You shouldn’t eat potatoes,” my mom muttered with a crooked smile, her food untouched as she drank her lunch.

“I’m sorry,” I repeated.

“Carbs sit in your stomach for years. Saw it on Dr. Oz.”

“I’ll steer clear,” I lied.

“Don’t validate her stupid shit,” my dad snapped.

“Sorry.”

I should leave. Just record a loop of me apologizing, and they’ll never notice I’m not here.

He smiled, which confused me until I saw someone approaching.

The guy enthusiastically shook my dad’s hand. “Governor Wilkes, I’m Les Jones, the owner. We’re so happy you and your beautiful family chose to dine with us this afternoon.”

Dad must’ve ‘title dropped’ when he made the reservation because of course he did. Can’t have a single hour pass without someone kissing his ass.