Page 112 of Rebel Romeo

“Drunk. Yeah. I just hope she didn’t drive here.”

Katherine played with the strap on her messenger bag, running it between her fingers and not meeting my eyes. “What you said earlier… it’s okay if you didn’t mean it. We were in the middle of a scene, and I know you get caught up?—”

“Katherine,” I said, hooking my finger beneath her chin and lifting her eyes to mine. “I meant every word. I want you to be my girlfriend. After my mom leaves, can I take you to dinner and a movie? If I recall, I still owe you one more date as payment for those panties.”

Her smile tore the breath right from my lungs. God, she was beautiful. Biting that bottom lip of hers, she nodded. “And I owe you The Departed.”

“Hell yeah, you do.”

Then, she pushed onto her toes and kissed me. Hesitantly at first, but quickly deepened it, gliding her tongue against my parted lips.

I groaned, finishing the kiss, and gently moved to arm’s length. “Let’s finish that later, too. Preferably not in front of my mother.”

Grinning, Katherine gave me a little wave and skipped out of the theater, leaving my mother and me alone.

I helped Mom to her feet, threading her arm through my elbow. “Come on,” I sighed. “Let’s get you home.”

“Home,” she snorted as I kicked open the theater door, holding it open for both of us. “My home is a lie.”

Mom winced and held her hand up against the bright sunlight as we stepped outside and made our way to the parking lot. “What are you talking about?”

“Your father and his latest whore,” she spat.

I nearly stumbled. Nearly fell flat on my face in the gravel parking lot. I cleared my throat, but whatever knot was stuck there didn’t dislodge. “Dad wouldn’t do that again. He promised.”

But even as I said the words, they fell flat. I had no doubt that he would do it again. He’d broken that promise before, why should now be any different?

“You and I both know your father’s promises don’t mean shit.”

Of course, Mom didn’t quite know the extent of Dad’s affairs. She knew he had them. But she didn’t know how deep the betrayals went. Affairs with her friends. His colleagues. People she stood beside at events. Women who kissed her on each cheek, then palmed Dad’s dick through his pants when she turned her back.

I opened the passenger door and helped my mom into the seat before circling around and getting into the driver’s side myself. I had no idea where she was parked, if she’d driven her car here at all, but that was a problem for another time.

“Did something specific happen?” I asked, pulling into traffic, then taking a right turn toward my condo.

She was quiet for so long that I thought she might have fallen asleep. “A woman just knows, Holden. And it isn’t his usual sort of affair. This one’s different. He loves her.”

I sighed. “Mom, if nothing?—”

“Don’t you ‘Mom’ me! I’m not being crazy.”

“I didn’t say you were!”

“It was implied in your tone. You think I don’t recognize that tone? I’ve heard it my whole life. Your grandfather spoke to me like that. Like some dumb debutante whose only role in life was to marry well… and I couldn’t even do that right. And Erik’s dad, he—” her voice cracked and she shook her head. “I know that tone, Holden. You’re the one man I thought would never take it with me.”

As I slowed to a stop at a redlight, I dared a glance at my mother. She was tragically beautiful. Glossy hair pulled into a tight french twist. Pearl earrings and a diamond tennis bracelet sparkling in the sunlight.

And a single tear rolled down her cheek, slicing a line through her makeup.

She didn’t have it easy. Sure, there was a ton of privilege in her life, but she also spent most of her life being a pawn herself. We had that in common.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to use that tone with you. And… I’m sorry for not calling you back.”

Blinking, she turned to look at me. “I think that might be the first time in my life a man apologized to me.” Her eyes fell to my grandfather’s spinner ring as I clenched the wheel in my fist. “I hated him, you know. Erik’s father.”

A dark cloud of anger filled my chest and I pushed the memory away of when I walked in on him pinning my mother, face down to the desk. Her skirt bunched around her waist as he grunted and forced himself on her. I tried to forget the sight of her eyes squeezed shut as silent tears slid down her cheeks.

“I hated him, too, Mom,” I managed to say.

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