Southern Belle

Ch.19 Getting Hammered

"My...friend," Nick snapped before taking a chug of his drink. Once he brushed off the whipped cream residue from his chin, he began leering his step-father over.

"Another prostitute? Tisk, tisk, my boy," he mumbled while stretching his arms above his head. His eyes closed and open a few times; he most likely was going to doze off soon.

Prostitute? Grimacing, I realized that my outfit could possibly be considered scandalous. The t-shirt shrunk in the wash, so it ended a few inches above my waist. My jeans were skin-tight and ripped all over, and Mel had plastered makeup all over my face before I left the South.

On the other hand, did he really think a lanky girl like me could attract a guy? I couldn't even attract flies to suck my blood.

"Actually, I'm his—"

"Sorry, she's just too good in bed for me to let her go. She's a kinky little girl," he joked after lacing our fingers together. A smirk slithered up his mouth; his blue eyes sparkled with amusement.

I smacked my free hand against my forehead. How embarrassing! He was always getting me in these predicaments, and I was too chicken to fight for myself. After pondering the situation over, I shrugged his comment off. No need to fight in front of his family.

"Disgusting. Do you have any class?" The left nostril of Charle's nose scrunched upwards, and a lime green booger was faintly visible.

"Class? You're talking to me about class? You asked my mother to marry you two months after my father died! You were his best friend. A shitty best friend," he retorted, jumping out of his seat. His back muscles tensed, and I could tell that he was too close to punching his dad.

I really should've pulled Nick back down, but I really wanted to see what was going on. The atmosphere in the room seemed to heat up, and everything was getting interesting. There was no way that I was going to miss this, so I pulled out my phone to take a picture of the action.

Nick's step-dad's fingers twirled the ends of his mustache. He appeared to be frazzled for a few seconds, but after he regained his confidence, he glared at the boy. "I was a great friend. It's not my fault that things got too wild in the bedroom one night, and your father had a heart attack. After I consoled her for two months, we realized that we fell in love, so we got married."

Nick's blue orbs rotated. "In love," he scoffed, "puh-lease. She married you for the same reason that she married my father. She was in love with your money, not you."

Instead of trying to defend herself, Mrs. Monroe just shoved a piece of cake in her mouth and dabbed the ends of her coral lips with a napkin. Grinning, Nick gestured to his mother once his point was proven. The old man gripped the arms of the chair as his hands clenched into claws.

"Your mother has no clue how much money your dad had. She doesn't even know how much money I have."

Mrs. Monroe lifted her finger up to quiet them. "Actually, Matthew had approximately $800 million, and you have $335 million."

Oh, lady, you obviously didn't marry those guys for their money.

As a spectator of this fight, I felt awkward. They were revealing their dirty laundry in front of me, and they weren't even trying to censor themselves. After planting my mug onto the table, my feet propelled me upwards, and I pivoted to leave.

"I'm just going to go now, and—"

"Sit down!" The loud and commanding voice of Nick instantly caused me to plop back into the cushion.