The Marriage Contract, Natasha Black [thriller books to read .TXT] 📗

to the bar. Cris was working there with Jordan, and I snuck up to her without him seeing me.

“Hey, I need a soda and a beer,” I said.

“What table?” she asked.

“It’s for Hannah’s cousin, Chloe. I’m going to take a break and hang out with her for a minute.”

“You are, are you?” she asked, raising her eyebrow suggestively.

“Not like that,” I lied. “Welcoming Committee.”

“I bet.” She filled a soda for me and then grabbed one of the bottled beers. “Enjoy, be a good boy.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, heading back to Chloe.

When I reached her, I realized that maybe the beer wasn’t the best idea. Despite the impressive set of trays she had put down, it looked like she was rather buzzed, and when I sat, she did the lazy, drifting smile I knew all too well.

“Well, hello again,” she said. “Is that for me?”

She reached for the beer before I could protest and was already knocking it back.

“Yup,” I said. “So,” I began, but she cut me off.

“You know what sucks? Phones. I got my phone cut off today. Not because of a bill either. Because my parents. My parents are… are… my parents are dumb.”

“Oh,” I said. “Is that so?”

“Yup.” She swigged back the beer that I now regretted bringing her. “Jerks. Just like Hannah’s parents. Her dad is my dad’s brother. Brothers. Like you and Jordan. But not like you and Jordan, because you and Jordan aren’t assholes.”

“I see.”

“My parents just push me around. Tell me what to do. But guess what? I’m a full-grown woman! I can do what I want. When I want. I just got in my car, and I drove all the way here. Staying at the hotel with the two trees right beside the park.”

She sat back with a self-satisfied smile on her face, but it almost instantly turned into a frown, and tears formed at the corners of her eyes. My eyes went wide as I searched the bar for Hannah. She had to be around somewhere.

“Maybe I should go get—” I started.

“They just expect me to be this… this thing. Not a person. A… metal thingy. What is it?”

“A robot?”

“A robot!” she said, putting one finger on the tip of her nose, albeit with some effort and a missed poke or two, and the other pointing vaguely in my direction. “They want me to be like a business deal. All math. Just a bunch of numbers that end up meaning they have more money.” She hiccupped. “And I’m not numbers, Mack.”

“Matt.”

“Matt. I’m not numbers. I’m a human bean. Bean? Being. I’m a human bean.”

“Right. You are a human being,” I said, finally catching Hannah’s attention across the room. I waved to her, and she held one finger up. When I turned back to Chloe, she was staring directly into my eyes, and my hand slowly dropped to my side. She was welling up with tears, and suddenly, they fell, dropping down her high, sharp cheekbones and speeding toward the corners of her mouth.

“I am so sorry. I have to go. I shouldn’t have said so much. I am so sorry,” she said, standing. “Tell Hannah I will pay my tab in the morning. I’m sorry. I’m getting an Uber. Just tell her.”

She ran off, heading outside, and I saw her hail down one of the many rideshare cars that hung out at our bar on a regular basis. Just as the car sped off, Hannah made it to me.

“Where is Chloe?” she asked.

“She left. Said she’d pay her tab in the morning. Got an Uber. Is that her purse?”

A pink purse sat on the seat where she had been, still clasped shut.

“I guess so,” Hannah said. “I’ll bring it to her in the morning.”

“I can bring it to her,” I said. “She mentioned she’s at Doubletree. It’s like a half a block from my apartment.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I don’t mind. She’s going to figure out she doesn’t have it and freak out. Let her sleep off the drinks tonight, and I’ll drop by her hotel in the morning.”

“She put away a bunch of them,” Hannah agreed. “I expected her to wait to let me take her home.”

“Well, she seems like the type that does what she wants.”

“Chloe?” Hannah laughed. “Yeah, you could say that.”

4 Chloe

My head felt like it was going to split like a coconut.

Everything hurt, including my legs and back, which I attributed to the long car ride more than the drinks. Jordan had been very generous with the drinks, and while I appreciated it at the time, I was regretting it now. I kept my eyes closed, cursing the light coming in from the open curtains that I didn’t bother to close before passing out in the bed the night before. I wanted to pull my blankets over my face or push a pillow over to block the light, but I lacked the energy necessary to do it.

On top of all that, my stomach gurgled, and I realized I had more calories the day before than I’d had a week previous. It all seemed worth it in the darkness and relief of being free from my parents in the bar. But waking up in the hotel, still wearing the majority of the clothes I had worn the night before and leaving stains from my makeup on the pillows, I was changing that opinion.

Thundering knocks on my door made me groan. I waited for the sound of a voice announcing housekeeping. When none came, I dared hope they had walked away. Then the knocking came again, and I held my head in my hands to soften the blows to my brain.

“Go away,” I called but realized that not only was my voice too weak to hear, it also sounded like a frog with lung disease.

Sighing and clearing my throat, I rolled to my side, sticking my feet out over the edge of the bed. As soon as my feet hit the floor,