I listen to mason talk about his life. I can’t help but think of my dad, would he like Mason.
When I was younger my dad and I used to sit by a fire and talk about the uncomfortable topic of boys, now he is dead.
Someone killed my dad.
Somebody hurt him and I know my now dead aunt knew something about it.
My mother knows I am right yet she still insists that I am wrong.
Mason stares at me from his vantage point.
I say nothing, there’s nothing really to say.
Today marked a month since I’ve have stepped foot in Liston Hills.
Some people call it The Billionaire’s nest, the town for the rich and all their secrets.
Now it’s not just for the rich, but a town for the killers.
A week ago I couldn’t wait to leave Liston Hills.
The place reminded me of a Stepfords paradise, false, pretentious and full of people who thought they were made of titanium.
Look at me now, sitting in Mason Bray’s house, on his carpet while I wait for Dexter Kent to get here.
Two guys from the most wealthiest families in this place and the world.
The thought makes me laugh, I am the lazy girl from New York City whose father wasn’t born with millions but had to work his ass off to pay the bills and still got kicked up it with a bullet to his head, Bang Bang.
Yet, here I am, slowly worming my way into their lives.
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