Page 38 of Not On Your Life

She turns, ready to run from this conversation.

“Millie.” I hold out a hand to her.

“Hey, aren’t you late for basketball with all your little buddies?“ She deflects.

Little buddieswho are now grown men. I haven’t been in months, and I’m not about to leave this conversation when I finally got the courage to bring it up. “No, I want to talk about this.”

“Sorry, can’t.” Her voice cracks. “I’m going out with Justin.”

I can do nothing to prevent the scowl I know will forever reside there when she talks about herfiancé. I use the term fiancé very loosely because they’ve been engaged for a year, and the only thing they’ve done together was make an Amazon registry.

He got her a cheap ring, which I have no problem with. It’s not like I’d be able to drop a couple of thousand dollars on a wedding ring. But the thing he gave her turned her finger green the first month, so she’s been wearing our mom’s engagement ring. I want the man who gives it to her to be worthy of her. That’s not Justin.

He has no motivation for life or for his fiancée, only rolling around when it’s convenient for him. Millie claims they are waiting a while and saving up so they can start their life together on the right foot. But Justin is like two left feet. He will never be right for her.

For the life of me, I can’t figure out her attachment to him. But I love her. And if Justin makes her happy, well, then I won’t strangle him the next time he lets her down or screws something up. But nothing will stop me from watching Millie kill him. I’d even help her dispose of the body.

“Don’t wait up!” she calls over her shoulder.

Losing my parents made me overprotective, but what if I lost her, too? She’s all I got left.

Chapter 13

Connor

“If I die right now, donate my body to science, so they can figure out why I let you talk me into this.” I glare at my sister perched happily in her large chair. Of course she’s happy, because I’m miserable.

The lady at my feet chuckles then raises something akin to a blade. Is she planning to cut off my toes?

Millie pins me with a look. “You know exactly why you’re here.”

Yes. After the whole “we need to sell the house thing,” Millie practically disappeared for two days. She came home yesterday and told me I could make it up to her by doing something fun with her. She did not specify that the activity would be a freaking pedicure, and I very much regret not asking.

“I said I was sorry,” I mutter.

“Which clearly wasn’t enough. You’re lucky I’m not making you get a wax.”

I narrow my eyes. “Over my dead body.”

“Care to add that to your will?”

I grunt and lean back in the massage chair, hoping it will relax me. It doesn’t. Not in the slightest. I’ve never been so uncomfortable in my life, and Millie knows it. I’d prefer waterboarding to this kind of torture.

Okay, I wouldn’t go that far.

“Get this, Patrice.” Millie puts her phone down and addresses the women scrubbing our feet. I grimace with every touch. That crap Patrice put on my foot feels like sandpaper.

“The other day, Connor was a grump, as usual,” she adds, and the women nod like they know me and my mannerisms. “When I got home from the store Connor said, out of nowhere, we need to sell the house.”

It did not come out of nowhere. There was clearly a conversation leading up to it. But she must embellish.

“Ourparents’house.” She emphasizes.

Patrice gasps, and I jerk. What?Where’s the blood?

“Can you imagine?” Millie continues. “The only piece we have left of them, and he wants to sell to the highest bidder.”

“I never said that.” I interject.