The Wallflower (Ruthless Disciples #1) Read Online J.L. Beck

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, College, Dark, Sports, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: Ruthless Disciples Series by J.L. Beck
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Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 127146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
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CHAPTER 15

DREW

It's only been a couple of days since I've seen her, and I'm already yearning to touch her again. I keep a close eye on her activities to make sure she's not getting herself into trouble. I've been staying away so I don't draw attention to her. It’s been a pain, but at least I won’t have to endure this much longer with the event taking place tonight.

Tonight, I have to put on a tux and smile. Shake hands. Be the perfect son my father expects in public. It makes me sick to perform like a circus monkey, but right now, I don't have a choice. During the day, I attend classes, go to practice, play ball, rinse, and repeat.

In the evening, I head over to the family estate. Huge oaks tower over the sprawling property, and it has a fountain with an angel spitting water out of its mouth. My mother wanted that water fountain so bad, and now every time I come here, it’s a reminder of her. Land on lands to show our wealth in a place of towering skyscrapers and high-rises.

Inside the house, I brush past the staff, heading to my room to find my clothes. They are already pressed and laid out neatly in a line on my bed. I take a quick shower, washing away the day's remains from my body. Like most days lately, my thoughts drift to Maybel. The puzzle I cannot seem to solve.

I’d feel guilty over my behavior from the other day, but it was merely a warning as to what’s to come if she doesn’t learn to stay in line. She might be different, and that appeal holds my attention most, but the fire inside her threatens to break my resolve.

It isn’t long before I’m showered, dried, and dressed. I don't want to attend these events, but I have no choice, and I still have one more stop to make before the party.

Once I'm dressed with every hair in place, I pull out my phone and snap a photo. I send the picture to my little wallflower and close my phone. Someone should appreciate this tux because I certainly don't.

Dots appear after she reads the text, but then nothing. I don't know why she keeps fighting so hard against what we have. She wants me. I know it. She knows it. Soon, I won't allow her the luxury of doubting us.

When I can't stall any longer, I make the trek across the estate to my mother's suite. All backed up to the edge of the gardens, but not close enough that people might look in and see her.

I enter to find a nurse on a chair near the window, my mother in the bed, eyes glassy, as she watches the door.

Her eyes go wide, and excitement fills her tired features as she tries to sit up. I rush over and gently help her lie back again. "No, Mom, stay put. You can admire me from there. I don’t want you hurting yourself trying to sit up."

She chuckles, and her laughter soon becomes a cough. "You look so handsome, sweetie."

I can't help but grin at her old nickname for me. "Thanks. One of Dad's parties, you know how it is?" I make my voice deeper and sit in the chair by the large hospital-like bed. "It’s be there or else."

Her lips thin, and she shakes her head. "I know you don’t like the events, but it comes with being a Marshall, Son. As difficult as your father can be, he’s still your father and wants the best for you. Someday, these events will get you a job or a connection.”

My mother is lost in space. She has no idea how heinous and terrible the man she married is. I’d like to say it hasn’t always been this way, but it’s always been there. A monster lurking in the dark. Either my mom never saw it, or she didn’t care to try. Nevertheless, I don’t want to spend the few minutes I have with her arguing, so I just nod and ease back in my seat. "So what have you been up to, Mom? Prepping for a marathon? Wrestling bears?"

This makes her smile, and it's worth it to endure her unending devotion to a man who has never cared for anything but himself.

"Sure, something like that. In fact, I just reached a personal record on my sudoku app, and I’m pretty sure I’ve seen every episode of Jeopardy ever recorded.”

"Whoa, watch out, world."

Another small smile that turns into a wince. I love seeing my mother, spending time with her, and talking to her, but every day that her health declines is a reminder that she might not pull through, and that opens the never healing wound in my chest. If my mother dies, then I’ll have lost the last person who truly ever cared about me.



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