Page 11 of Worthy: Cassius and Faith 3

“So I think you’re up to something. I think you want something from Faith.”

“I think you’re the one who wants something,” I said.

The mother arched an eyebrow. She was close enough that I could smell her, an acrid mix of booze and cigarettes that emanated from her pores. “I heard you introduce yourself to my son. You’re Cassius Blackwood.” She held up her phone. “I looked you up just now.”

“Of course you did.”

She didn’t hesitate. “I need money,” she said.

“I see,” I said noncommittally.

“Seems like you could help me out.” She jutted her chin. “Since you’ve got lots of it.”

“I already donate money to charity.”

She looked taken aback. “I ain’t asking for charity.”

“Okay…?” I raised my eyebrows.

“I’m asking you to pay me to keep my mouth shut,” she said.

I had to give it to Faith’s mother. She cut right to the chase. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do.” Her watery eyes glimmered. “Something’s up with you and my daughter. Two weeks ago, she was out on the streets. Now, she’s carrying a fancy bag and has cash in her wallet. You’re twice her age. You’re doing something with my daughter, and I know it.”

As Faith was over eighteen, and what she did or did not do with me or anyone else was none of her vagrant mother’s business, I was inclined to unleash my wrath. But two nurses walked by, eyeing us with interest. As Lucas’s health was hanging in the balance, it would be best not to make a scene. Not that his mother seemed to care.

“My relationship with your daughter is none of your business. Good day, Mrs. Kensington.” I stalked off to the cafeteria.

But like a grifting shark who smelled blood, she followed me. “You can ignore me all you want, but I’m gonna find something on you, and I’m going to make you sorry.” She raised her voice.

“I’m already sorry.” I stopped walking and favored her with my most insincere smile. “Your children seem to deserve much better than a so-called mother like you.”

Her jaw dropped open, revealing nicotine-stained teeth. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she snapped.

I crossed my arms against my chest. “I have a pretty good idea.”

We regarded each other.

The thing with Mrs. Kensington was that she was a dime a dozen. She wanted something from me just because of my name. When you came from a rich and powerful family, there was no shortage of people who demanded things from you while making threats—some idle, some serious, some that made you despondent for the state of humanity. Mrs. Kensington was a living, breathing example of why I avoided people in the first place: they sucked.

“Here’s three thousand dollars.” I took out my wallet and held out the bills, but when she went to take them, I pulled my hand back. “You should be nicer to your children. Your son wanted to spend time with you, and you ran out on him.”

I held the bills back out.

She snatched the money and straightened her bony shoulders.“Don’t you judge me. You got no idea what I been through.”

She hustled off without another word, but I knew she’d be back at some point, looking for another handout. They always were. Sighing, I got a coffee and sat down. I was happy to be rid of the mother, even if it had cost me several thousand dollars.

I sipped my coffee slowly. I wanted to give Faith and Lucas a few minutes alone. I hadn’t thought about what would happen next. I needed to return to the club; Faith would be staying in Boston. Of course, she didn’t have a place to actually stay. That wasn’t my problem—I barely knew the girl. So why did it make me feel sick to my stomach that I’d be leaving her in the city on her own?

“Hey.” Faith appeared at my table. “Lucas needed to rest, so I figured it was time to go. Thank you again for bringing me to see him.”

“You’re welcome. I can take you back to the penthouse so you can get your things,” I said.

“About that.” Faith bit her lip. “I’d like to come back to the club with you—if I’m still allowed to.”

I regarded her for a moment. “I thought you wanted to quit.”

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