Page 25 of Fierce Love (Tucker Billionaires)

Chapter Twenty-One

Hollyn

Fourteen years ago

S o far, being more open about our relationship has yet to bite me in the ass, but I keep waiting for the sting nonetheless.

We get side-eyed when we go anywhere in his rich realm, but no one has said anything to my face.

Around my neighborhood, everyone loves Nate, treats him like a son, and every time someone speaks to him like he belongs here, in my world, it warms my heart.

I’m sure it’s because he’s riding the high of his acceptance in my neighborhood that he’s decided I should formally meet his family.

I’ve met his sisters and brother in passing a few times, but his parents have remained aloof and out of the picture.

Up until now, I’ve been grateful. None of the stories about Celia and Jonathan Tucker are flattering.

I’m rushing around the apartment, putting the final touches on the dress, shoes, and jewelry Nate bought me to meet his parents.

He didn’t say it, but I know he’s trying to conceal just how poor Aunt Verna and I are.

He was very careful with his words the day when he took me shopping in downtown Tucker’s Town, as though he thought I’d object to his efforts or be offended by his money.

To be fair, in my neighborhood, I am both of those.

But I don’t want to be a source of conflict between him and his family, and I can already sense it brewing under the surface. I know what it’s like to be attacked from within, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

A key slots into the lock on the apartment door, and I check the clock on the wall. Aunt Verna should still be at her shift at the café. If she got fired or she’s sick, I’ll need to pick up extra shifts at The Drunk Racoon to make sure our rent and bills get paid this month.

Instead, in waltzes Mickie, as though it’s my mother who lives here, not my aunt.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, and terror creeps into my throat. Aunt Verna told me she took back the key from Mickie, didn’t give her the new entrance code to the front door.

“Came to see my daughter. Heard you had a special event tonight.” She throws herself into the worn couch and grins at me.

Her blond hair is cut into a short, straight bob.

The wave in my hair comes from my father’s side of the family.

“Talk all over the neighborhood how you landed yourself a Tucker. My baby!” She exclaims with a laugh.

“God, you’ve done good, and without me to teach you. ”

I can’t speak, afraid to set her off. She’s prone to throwing things, dragging me across a room, screaming at the top of her lungs, using her razor-sharp nails like knives. I can’t smell any alcohol from here, which is good. She’s so much worse when she’s been drinking.

She eyes my figure in the navy dress and low heels. Her gaze sticks to the necklace around my throat, the one Nate bought me for tonight. Even in the dim lights of the apartment, the small sapphires and diamonds are probably twinkling—they were in the bathroom mirror when I put it on.

“You ditch the birth control yet? Getting that boy’s seed in you is the best ticket to a good life.

From what I hear, he’s not like his dad.

He’d actually look after you and the kid, not let his baby mama and bastard run all over Bellerive, the rest of the world, as though they were nothing to him.

Or force you into other options.” The way she says it makes me think there’s a story there, but I’m not digging.

I shake my head. “It’s not like that.”

“You’re not fucking him? Bullshit.” She gives me a disgusted look.

“I’ve heard about the two of you, fucking horny as hell all over the neighborhood.

Heard he stood on a table and declared his love for you.

” She makes my relationship sound dirty, as though there’s nothing real about it.

“If you’re not fucking him and you got that declaration”—she eyes me again—“good on you, I suppose. But you really should not waste this opportunity. Nailing a decent Tucker is like winning the lottery in Bellerive.” A small smile plays on her lips. “Is he decent?”

I bite my lip and scan her face, trying to determine her mood, what might come from any admission or denial. If it seemed like the best way to handle it, I’d make Nate look bad to her, awful, even. But I just can’t tell what she’s after. She can’t force me to get pregnant.

“He’s decent,” I admit, thinking that’s the biggest understatement of my life.

“Perfect,” she says, planting her hands on her slender thighs and rising to her feet.

She sashays to me, a walk that probably lures in men but only makes me tense with impending trouble.

My mother is always most relaxed before she lets loose.

“Your father and I have a new investment, but we need some capital.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I need you to ask good ol’ Nate for a cash donation to the Thompson-Davis bank. An investment, if you will, in our newest venture. He’s so keen to be part of the family, so he might as well drop some cash into the well as a goodwill gesture.”

“I’m not asking Nate for money,” I say, the words spilling out of me before I can consider their full impact. I should have lied, told her I’d ask. Or admitted that Celia still controls all the purse strings.

Her hand snakes out, grabbing a fistful of my hair, the careful waves I just finished crafting before she arrived crumpling.

“You fucking will, you little whore. I need fifty thousand dollars, and that’s a drop in the bucket for your boy.

He’s probably got that sitting in his personal bank account right now.

” She tightens her grip, making me cry out.

“No,” I say, tears springing to my eyes. Nate is the one good thing I have, and I’m not tarnishing it for her.

“He bought this for you, didn’t he?” Her other hand seizes my necklace.

She pulls hard, and when the necklace doesn’t break, she spins it around and unlatches it with a deft flick of her fingers.

When it drops to the ground, she brings me down with her, her fist still firm in my hair.

“Probably worth a couple grand.” She measures the weight of the gold and jewels in her hand, and then she forces me to meet her gaze.

“You don’t want to see what I’ll do to get what I want. ”

I’ve seen it plenty of times.

The buzzer on the door sounds to signal Nate’s arrival to pick me up, take me to his parents’ house. Except I’ve started crying, my makeup smeared, and my hair will have the indent of my mother’s hand.

“If you get pregnant, you won’t even have to ask him for the money. It’ll be your money too.”

“Stop,” I whisper. “Please stop.”

She lets go of my hair, flinging me back onto my ass. My dress hiked up my thighs. “Best get yourself cleaned up. Don’t want the pretty boy thinking he’s slumming it.”

“He’ll ask about the necklace,” I say as she heads toward the apartment door, leaving me sprawled on the floor.

“Tell him you gave it to me as a push present, for giving you life.” She faces me, her lips quirked up into a half smile, her hand on the door. “And then ask him for my money. You won’t like what I do to get it otherwise.”

My phone starts ringing in the clutch Nate bought me, the one resting on the coffee table. He’s probably wondering what’s taking me so long. I just hope Mickie went out a side door and not past him at the front.

Taking a deep breath, I go to the buzzer, and I ring him in without a word. My throat still feels tight with tears. I leave the apartment door unlocked and head to the bathroom.

“Hols?” Nate’s voice echoes through the apartment as he enters.

“Out in a minute,” I say, injecting false brightness into my tone. In the bathroom mirror, I frantically fix my makeup and try to wrangle my hair back into the careful waves I constructed.

Then I stare at myself, take in my whole face, still a bit unsteady from the confrontation with my mother, and I know in my gut that I’ll never drag Nate into this mess, that I’ll do anything to keep him safe from them, even if that means I have to let him go.