Chapter 3: Filthy Crown: Chapter 2

Penelope, Eight Years Old

Men. What are they even good for?

For as long as I could remember, nothing. They’re worthless. The first one to teach me this was Dad. He left Mom and me and never came back.

I don’t know what he looked like but from what Mom has said, he was very handsome. But this one? He isn’t even nice looking, with his noodle arms and bald head. He looks like Fester Adams.

“Penelope,” Mom says in her serious voice. “Say hello to Charles.”

“Hello, Charles,” I droll, not willing to give this dude an ounce of excitement.

Charles looks nervously between mom and me. He probably didn’t think a kid would be cramping their style.

Ha, Surprise!

“Hello, Penelope. That’s such a pretty name.” The corner of his mouth lifts upward in a smile, but I can tell that it’s forced.

I don’t respond. What’s there to say?

Instead, I pickup my book, uninterested with whatever they’ve got planned for the next couple of hours.

My poor mom is a hopeless romantic. She believes in fairy tales and Prince Charming. Heck, she probably thinks Fester here is her forever love or that Santa and the Easter Bunny are real.

I let out a snort, realizing too late that Charles was staring at me expectantly.

Whoops.

Mom shoots me her death stare, complete with pursed lips. I guess she isn’t happy with how I’m treating her latest boyfriend.

Too bad. This is all he’s getting.

If he’s like the others, I give him a month… tops.

Letting out a sigh of resignation, Mom pivots on her heels, her dark hair swishing as she gives me her back. In three quick strides, she speed-walks toward the television.

I know what she’s doing, and it’s not going to work.

The screen flits through various channels until she finally settles on a cartoon, thinking it’ll keep me distracted.

Wrong. I hate cartoons. They’re fake. Just like her fairytales. All full of fake laughs, fake friends, and fake families.

My eyes flit back to Charles, who’s shifting his weight from left to right, unable to stand still.

“Alright, then.” She shakes her head, landing her gaze on the eager man. “Shall we?” Mom extends an arm, showing him toward her room.

His half grimace, half smile turns into a full-on grin before he turns and starts walking toward the hallway.

Good riddance. The faster they get on with their date, the faster Mom will realize he’s not the one. They never are.

I roll my eyes. Maybe one day she’ll learn.

Men aren’t the answer. They’re the problem.

Penelope, Present Day

“You’ll be staying with your uncle, Jack.” The caseworker’s voice jerks me out of my thoughts.

“I’m sorry. What did you say?” My brows push together, unsure if I heard her correctly.

“Jack. He’s the uncle who hired the security team.” She blinks once before looking back down at her file. “Yes.” Her finger glides across the paper, the document no doubt confirming the terrible words she’s uttered. “Your parents’ wishes were that you’d remain with one of the Crown brothers should anything ever happen to them.”

It’s been twenty-four hours since we left Mexico, and my world is still spinning. All I know is that we’re stateside and pending release based on our medical evaluations.

I’d finished my exam when this lady walked in claiming to be a social worker. Social worker my ass. She’s more like the grim reaper of news.

She’s just delivered a verbal blow that might as well have been physical. There’s no way I can stay with him.

My legs tuck underneath me, the movement making the paper on the exam table crinkle. “You said ‘one of the Crown brothers,’” I chew on my bottom lip, trying to find a way out of this. “Why can’t we stay with one of the other brothers? Matt? He’s pretty stable.”

“Jack is more than capable of caring for you and your siblings.” Her eyes narrow as she reaches a hand to my shoulder. “That is unless there’s something you haven’t shared. Something that hasn’t made its way onto our file.”

My brows hit my hairline at her implication. “No. God, no.” I quickly shake my head. Jack might be a Grade A asshole, but he’s not a perv. Even though I can’t stand him, there’s no way I’d let him get labeled something he wasn’t.

The social worker slides a business card onto my lap. “You know you can always call me if anyone steps out of line, right?”

I nod once, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that this won’t ever be an issue.

Only fools repeat history, and I’m no fool.

Young naïve me, I let my crush-riddle heart fall for Jack Crown. He was older, wiser, and one hell of a flirt.

But I was his brother’s stepdaughter and way too young. Definitely not someone he’d pay any mind.

Despite knowing fairytales were fake and that there’s no such thing as happily ever after, I let myself trust this man. Let him get close enough to where I relied on his visits, his kind gestures, and what I thought was his love.

He was the male figure I looked up to, the only one I’d ever had. While Mom was busy with Austin, I had Jack.

Sure, I had to share him once Alex and Amanda were born, but I didn’t mind. I was happy that they had his love too.

Stupid, naïve little girl.

Fate’s a fickle bitch and, of course, she’d make it nice and clear that I was being dumb. Believing in things I had no right to.

What could a grown man want from a silly little girl and her siblings? No, I’m sure he had grown women to occupy his time.

One missed Sunday turned into two, and before I knew it, weeks turned into months, and months turned into years. Finally, on my fifteenth birthday, I locked away the last of my childish thoughts.

I was never on this man’s radar. And if I can help it, I never will be.

Trees everywhere, as far as the eye can see. It really is stunning, and if I were anyone else, I’m sure I’d be gawking over the beauty.

We’re on the road after having traveled on a private jet, the luxury a welcomed contrast from the hell we were forced to endure.

Still, I’d rather be anywhere but here.

“You ready to see your uncle Uncle Jack?” Ashley swivels her head, angling herself to face the rear seating of the luxury SUV. I have an entire row to myself, and my brother and sister are seated behind me.

We’re being driven by Titus, one of the men on our rescue mission, as well as his girl, Ashley. Despite her only being a couple of years older than me, she’s managed to put on this mothering role and I want no part of it.

“He’s not my uncle,” I grumble while Alex and Amanda wordlessly stare out of their windows, continuing to ignore Ashley and the movie she’s chosen to play on their built-in DVD players. Clearly, they want no part of her happy-go-lucky either.

Titus reaches over and squeezes Ashley’s thigh in a comforting gesture. Right. Because she’s the one that needs comforting.

Rolling my eyes, I attempt at niceties. “What I meant was, he’s not my uncle anymore. Amanda and Alex are biologically tied to him through their dad, but I was only his niece through marriage. Now that our parents are…” I trail off, not wanting to finish that statement.

My chest tightens and my eyes burn. I will not cry. Not in front of the kids. Lord knows they’re already traumatized as hell. They sure as fuck don’t need their only source of strength breaking down in front of them.

Ashley gives me a sad smile. “Even so. He’s still your guardian and I know he’s excited to see you.”

My lips press into a firm line, not trusting myself to speak.

I know for a fact that isn’t true. If it were, he would’ve made more of an effort to see us over the last couple of years. But he didn’t.

Alex, who’s wise beyond his nine years, finally speaks up. “Pen is almost eighteen. Why can’t we just stay at our house with her? She’ll watch us.”

I had this very conversation with the men of WRATH. To my dismay, they said I’d have to take it up with my uncles. More precisely, Jack.

Reaching back, I ruffle my little brother’s hair. “I like the way you think, little man. But as much as I want to do that right now, I can’t. It’s still a couple of months until I turn eighteen and then I’d have to talk to Uncle Jack about it.”

I leave out the part that our parents made their wishes abundantly clear. No need to tell the little ones that our parents had custody planned out in the event of their death, and it definitely wasn’t leaving the kids to me.

My body shakes as I wrap both arms around myself. Did they know they’d leave us so soon?

The SUV comes to a full stop, breaking me out of my thoughts. We’re here.

Whether or not I like it, this is home for the next couple of months. And despite how much I detest my uncle, I have to play nice.

Needing to convince him I’m capable of caring for my siblings will be the easy part. But preventing my hate from seeping through and tainting our chances will be nearly impossible.

With a deep inhale, I brace myself for what’s to come. I only know one thing for sure—wherever I go, I’m taking the kids with me.