Free Wicked Knight by Tierney O’Malley Page A

scene doesn't mean I'm horny.”
    “And I'm not a Knight. Come on, Julie. Stay. I'll vouch for you. Don't worry about it.”
    “Okay, maybe my books are not the reason Marla is coming, but what about the evidence Weatherholt is talking about? I don't know what it is—and not knowing is tough on my nerves. I...I have to go and think about what this evidence could be.”
    “Maybe your pus-ugly stepbrother made it up. He and his mother have been trying hard to ruin your name since your dad let them in on the will's condition. Meaning, whatever evidence they have against you could be fake. You should sue them for harassment.”
    And let people know how dysfunctional her family was? Drag her dead mother's name to court, have the lawyers dig into her past and show how she had lived her pitiful life? No way would she let that happen.
    “You know I can't do that. Suing them would only create another problem. Marla could turn things against me. I don't want to take a probable chance.”
    “I know. You have a bad rap with the law. And if it weren't for your mother's influence, you would have ended in the juvie, blah, blah.” Kirsten yawned again.
    Julie cringed at the word juvie . The word she didn't want to hear for the rest of her life. The word she wished unattached to her past. She regretted giving her mother grief and shame by accumulated petty crimes, including a staged burglary to get her parents’ attention.
    At the time, she thought it funny, but when her mother cried from frustration, the extent of what she had done came crashing down on her—big time.
    Through tears, she explained to her mother why she turned from an altar girl to a pain in the ass. That she misbehaved on purpose to turn the attention back to her. Her mother was too upset to accept her apologies. That same month, Laura Parrish was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and given only a few months left to live. Laura had spent her remaining months tying up loose ends, arranging her own funeral and added that condition on her last will, Julie Parrish must stay out of trouble . Any action that could be construed as embarrassing, shameful, a stain on the family's name, would be reason enough for her inheritance, including the house in Edmonds where she grew up, to go to Paul Parrish.
    One might question how the condition would help Julie change her ways. Well, those who knew her father would understand why she was bent on keeping her slate clean to keep Paul away from her inheritance. The man was more disgusting than any animal's dirty ass.
    Laura's funeral had been as somber as the guests’ dark suits worn. Powerful businessmen and women, government officials, Paul, and Julie, sat on the cushioned chairs as they listened to the priest read prayers off his worn Bible. Julie cried her heart out that day, wishing for the clock to turn back. As she stared at the brass-colored coffin, she pinched her arm until she started bleeding, hoping she was just asleep and would wake up to find her mother in her home office or in the kitchen making sandwiches—nut it never happened.
    At the first sign of the coffin lowering into the ground, she screamed her mother's name, begging her to come back until her throat became sore. Even after everyone was gone, she remained standing over the mound of dirt, whispering her mother's name. She distinctly remembered the loud thunder followed by a flash of lightning, the Seattle sky grayer than she had ever seen, as if it, too, was mourning. The whole atmosphere was a deep melancholy mood, but not deep enough compared to what she had felt that day.
    Before she let her father lead her away from the grave, she repeated the promise she gave her mother while she lay dying in her hospital bed. A promise she kept to this day.
    Julie adjusted her overnight bag. She shouldn't bother Kirsten about her problems. Her friend was conversant, but still seemed half-awake.
    “I have to go. Thanks for everything. I'll call you when I get a chance.