The Billionaire and the Con Artist: A Bad Boy Romance (Bad Girls Series Book 1) by Leanne Brice Page B
Authors: Leanne Brice
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like it has lost some life.
“Tell us more about this Taylor,” I nudge.
"I met her when I was fifteen," she says tiredly. "After I ran away from my last foster home. My foster dad ..." She shakes her head. "I had to leave there, and even though I had nowhere to go, I just couldn’t stay there anymore. It wasn’t safe. I wandered around for a bit and the first night, when it really sunk in I had nowhere to sleep, I kind of curled up by a garbage bin and cried. Taylor found me and invited me to stay with her. It was just inside an abandoned car but it was warm and felt a lot safer than out in the open. We’ve been friends since then and she taught me so much.”
Jesus, her eyes are filling with tears again.
Her chin is shaking—like she’s about to cry but fighting it.
She seems to have gotten it under control as she begins again.
“I’m pretty damned good at what I do, but Taylor is expert—she taught me everything I know. She taught me how to work people and situations to my advantage and I’ve been able to get by all this time because of her. I believed just about everything she told me back then, and I thought we’d just keep doing this together.”
I want to ask her why she didn’t transition into more ethical ways of getting paid, but I don’t want her to feel judged and clam up.
Besides, I guess it’s just one of those things, I guess—once you start, it’s hard to stop.
The habit and the success rate must’ve been hard to give up.
And how could she not be successful?
She conned the hell out of me and I consider myself pretty damned savvy at this stage.
She’s got so much going for her—people must fall into her traps so easily.
I sure as hell did.
I settle on what I think is a safer question, but I know it comes with its own landmines.
"What about your parents?" I ask softly. "Where are they?"
"I never met my dad—not sure if he’s dead or alive, but I suspect dead. And I think it was too much for my mom, looking out for me by herself. She… " She lets out an empty laugh. "She sort of ended up just dropping me off at one of those safe haven spots when I was twelve. A fire station.”
"Uh ..."
"There was a loophole at the time—anyone under eighteen could be legally abandoned,” she says before I can ask how the fuck dropping off a kid that age was legal. “Don’t worry, they’ve fixed it since then. Anyway, I was in the system for a while. No one really wants to adopt older kids; I wasn’t far from being a grown-ass woman. And eventually, I had a foster dad who noticed. But maybe it was the fact that I wasn’t actually a woman that got him all excited… ”
Okay, I really don’t want to hear this part.
And I definitely don’t want Nate to hear it.
I mean, sure—she’s a hardened girl, and she has been through a lot and probably doesn’t let it affect her anymore, but it doesn’t feel right to have Nate listen to such personal details.
“I’ve got it from here, Nate,” I say after whispering to her to hold up for a sec.
He nods and leaves us.
April continues as if there was no interruption.
“He came into my room one night and touched me. Said he was just checking to make sure I was there—they had runaways before. But that wasn’t all. I wanted to believe that was it, but the way his hand moved up my thigh the next time, I knew things wouldn’t stop there."
I can barely contain my rage.
"He didn’t …?”
She shakes her head quickly.
"He didn’t get to—I ran away before he could get to that point since nobody believed me. That’s how I ended up on the streets, getting by however I could until Taylor found me. She has helped take care of me since then. She taught me just about everything I know about surviving out there. I really thought she was my friend.” Her voice breaks and my heart follows.
I try to concentrate on anger.
"What’s his name?" I say with every intention of tracking down the son-of-a-bitch who tried to abuse her and
“Tell us more about this Taylor,” I nudge.
"I met her when I was fifteen," she says tiredly. "After I ran away from my last foster home. My foster dad ..." She shakes her head. "I had to leave there, and even though I had nowhere to go, I just couldn’t stay there anymore. It wasn’t safe. I wandered around for a bit and the first night, when it really sunk in I had nowhere to sleep, I kind of curled up by a garbage bin and cried. Taylor found me and invited me to stay with her. It was just inside an abandoned car but it was warm and felt a lot safer than out in the open. We’ve been friends since then and she taught me so much.”
Jesus, her eyes are filling with tears again.
Her chin is shaking—like she’s about to cry but fighting it.
She seems to have gotten it under control as she begins again.
“I’m pretty damned good at what I do, but Taylor is expert—she taught me everything I know. She taught me how to work people and situations to my advantage and I’ve been able to get by all this time because of her. I believed just about everything she told me back then, and I thought we’d just keep doing this together.”
I want to ask her why she didn’t transition into more ethical ways of getting paid, but I don’t want her to feel judged and clam up.
Besides, I guess it’s just one of those things, I guess—once you start, it’s hard to stop.
The habit and the success rate must’ve been hard to give up.
And how could she not be successful?
She conned the hell out of me and I consider myself pretty damned savvy at this stage.
She’s got so much going for her—people must fall into her traps so easily.
I sure as hell did.
I settle on what I think is a safer question, but I know it comes with its own landmines.
"What about your parents?" I ask softly. "Where are they?"
"I never met my dad—not sure if he’s dead or alive, but I suspect dead. And I think it was too much for my mom, looking out for me by herself. She… " She lets out an empty laugh. "She sort of ended up just dropping me off at one of those safe haven spots when I was twelve. A fire station.”
"Uh ..."
"There was a loophole at the time—anyone under eighteen could be legally abandoned,” she says before I can ask how the fuck dropping off a kid that age was legal. “Don’t worry, they’ve fixed it since then. Anyway, I was in the system for a while. No one really wants to adopt older kids; I wasn’t far from being a grown-ass woman. And eventually, I had a foster dad who noticed. But maybe it was the fact that I wasn’t actually a woman that got him all excited… ”
Okay, I really don’t want to hear this part.
And I definitely don’t want Nate to hear it.
I mean, sure—she’s a hardened girl, and she has been through a lot and probably doesn’t let it affect her anymore, but it doesn’t feel right to have Nate listen to such personal details.
“I’ve got it from here, Nate,” I say after whispering to her to hold up for a sec.
He nods and leaves us.
April continues as if there was no interruption.
“He came into my room one night and touched me. Said he was just checking to make sure I was there—they had runaways before. But that wasn’t all. I wanted to believe that was it, but the way his hand moved up my thigh the next time, I knew things wouldn’t stop there."
I can barely contain my rage.
"He didn’t …?”
She shakes her head quickly.
"He didn’t get to—I ran away before he could get to that point since nobody believed me. That’s how I ended up on the streets, getting by however I could until Taylor found me. She has helped take care of me since then. She taught me just about everything I know about surviving out there. I really thought she was my friend.” Her voice breaks and my heart follows.
I try to concentrate on anger.
"What’s his name?" I say with every intention of tracking down the son-of-a-bitch who tried to abuse her and
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