Page 23 of Ruthless Intent

Mom’s eyes widen. “Absolutely not. It took a while for him to accept that his parents weren’t going to get back together, so he refused to speak to your dad for a long time. He was almost ten when he finally came to visit, and that meant he didn’t meet you until you were two. But he loved you almost at first sight, Ashley.” Her voice softens. “If he hated anyone, it was me. And I don’t blame him for that. But you … he was fascinated by the idea of having a sister. He was protective of you. So, no, he didn’t hate you. Not at all. Is that what Zain told you?”

“He said that Jason resented me. That there were times when he hated me.”

She reaches for my hands and squeezes my fingers. “When me and your uncle Ray were young …” Uncle Ray is her younger brother. “There were days where we could have happily strangled each other. That’s what being siblings is, honey. I’m not going to lie and say I don’t believe he didn’t have moments of jealousy, or resented you for having his dad when he didn’t. I’m sure he did. But hate you? No, I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Who knows?”

“What do you mean?”

“Who in town knows, other than you and Marissa?”

“It was a long time ago, Ashley. When he brought me to live here, it was the gossip of Whitstone. Everyone had theories about who I was. I had a child with me. They did the math. It was obvious I was pregnant long before your Dad and Marissa were divorced. But they didn’t know for certain. For all they knew, you were someone else’s child. Eventually, people figured it out, and it was hard to live here for a time, with all the whispers and stares. But we grow up and grow older, and other newsworthy stories replace old ones. I doubt anyone thinks about it these days. I’m just Esme Trumont, Bryan Trumont’s second wife.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

ZAIN

The car pulls up outside my parents’ house, but I don’t get out straight away. Instead, I sit there, while the engine idles, and take in a couple of deep breaths. My parents will be inside, and if I know them, so will other members of my family.

I haven’t seen any of them since the day I was led away in cuffs.

I wouldn’t let them visit me in prison. I didn’t want to see my mom in that place. But she wrote me letters, and I spoke to her on the phone once a month. When we received confirmation that the judge was willing to listen to the appeal, I told Peter not to tell them.

I didn’t want them to get their hopes up in case things went wrong. But also if things did go the way I desperately hoped, I didn’t want my parents to have to deal with the reporter frenzy afterward, while trying to remain calm. I left it to Peter to inform them of my release, and that I’d be coming home.

I needed a day to get my bearings, to work through everything in my head, and having them or any other family members around me the second I gained my freedom would have made that impossible.

My heart is doing somersaults in my chest. The front door leading into the house is closed, but that could change at any second. My gaze moves to the windows, and I’m certain I see a flicker of movement as someone looks out.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” The driver’s voice cuts through the silence, and his words are the push I need to get moving.

“No.” I throw open the car door. “Can you pop the trunk for me?”

“Sure thing.”

I climb out and move to the back to retrieve my suitcase, then walk to where the driver is waiting, his window down. “Thank you.” I take a hundred dollar bill out of my wallet and hand it to him. “I appreciate your patience. It can’t have been easy.”

“You’ve been one of the easiest clients I’ve ever had.” He takes the money with a smile, and hands me a business card. “Call if you ever need another driver.”

I nod, pocket the card and walk slowly toward the steps leading up to the house. The second my foot touches the first one, the door flies open and I’m almost knocked off my feet when a small hurricane hits me.

My arms automatically wind around the body clinging to me, and I lower my head. When the familiar scent of her perfume hits me, a choked groan escapes my lips.

“Mom.”

“They told me I was stupid to believe this day would come.” Her voice is fierce. “But I knew. I knew you’d come home. That you’d prove they were wrong.” The arms around my waist tighten. “I just wish you’d let me be there for you.”

I bury my face into the hair on top of her head, and close my eyes.

“Mom.”

That's all I can say. Anything more, and I might just break down. And I can’t do that. I can’t let those walls down. Not yet. I have too much to do, and I need that barrier to stay strong.

I reach behind me to untangle her arms, and take a step back. She sniffs, but doesn’t stop me, and as soon as we’re apart, she reaches up to cup my face between her palms.

“Look at you.” Her voice shakes. “Are you even real?”

I cover her hands with mine. “I’m real. I’m here.”

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