Her smile died. Helena’s words were cold and efficient, like a work text or email. A brush-off. Granted, it was easy to misread emotion, or the absence of it, over texts, but this message was clear, especially after the day long silence. She wouldn’t be hearing from or seeing Helena again tonight. She slumped in her chair, gaze drifting to the couch where twenty-four hours ago Helena, in blue satin, had been spread across her thighs, riding her hand and biting her shoulder as the two of them shared what Celia had thought was an amazing experience.
Had she dreamed it all?
She blinked fast, trying to hold back threatening tears. Was she making excuses for Helena, same as she’d done for Dex all those years? During all his absences? She angrily wiped away the tears that defied her. She fucking knew better. She and Helena had barely struck up a friendship again. Why had she thought this time would be any different? Why had she let her heart and body hope for more?
The desk phone rang, and she set aside her cell to answer it. “Perri—” Voice rough, she cleared her throat and started again. “Perri Auto Works.”
An electronic voice talked over her. “San Francisco County Jail,” it said. “Call for Celia Perri from Dexter Russo. Do you accept?”
She opened her mouth to say no, then caught the refusal on the tip of her tongue. She didn’t want to talk to Dex, but maybe if she did, he’d be stupid enough to say something they could use to catch the drive-by shooter.
“Yes.”
Two clicks later, Dex greeted her with a surprised, “You took my call.”
“Obviously.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I started that wrong.” She was sure he wore an artificial smile to match the artificial sweetness in his voice, fake sugar that had kept her hanging on for far too long. “How are you, Cee?”
She kept her own voice as flat as possible, steeling herself and not giving him an ounce of her emotional capital that was already running low. “Fine.”
“I’d hoped to see you at the station or here at the jail. Thought maybe you’d bring the kids by to see me.”
“In jail?”
“I’m their father.”
“Maybe you should have thought about that before breaking into the place that provides for their food and clothes.”
Sugar quickly turned to venom. “You sent your brother and that other lawyer after me instead.”
“I did.”
“They’re dangerous, Celia.”
“Because they helped protect me from you?”
Turned to cajoling. “You don’t need protection from me.”
She covered the bullshit she wanted to utter with the unvarnished truth. “You hit me, Dexter, and for years before that you abused me in other ways. I’m done with it.”
“I didn’t abuse you. I would never do that.”
“You don’t know the meaning of the word, Dex, and I won’t expose my children to that kind of toxic environment any longer.”
“Our children.”
The swing from sugar to venom to sugar was like being on an amusement park ride. Observing it from the ground now, instead of being on the ride itself, she was so fucking glad to be off it. “That’s the one good thing you did, Dex. You gave me those kids, but beyond that, not much other good came out of our marriage.”
“I gave you a life,” he spat.
“Bullshit.” She let some of her fury and conviction loose. Yes, it was expended capital, but for the longer gain. “I made a life for my family.” She wanted him to hear how pissed she was, wanted him to know she was confident enough in herself to kick him to the curb for good. She could support her family and live her life without him. “You’re not a part of that anymore. We’re moving on. I’m moving on.”
“Moving on? With who?” For once in his life, Dex put two and two together. “With that lawyer bitch? The way she treated me was—”
“Her name is Helena, and I’m sure you deserved whatever she did to you. I only wish I’d had the chance.”
“Celia, you don’t—”