Page 67 of Sinful Sacrifice

“How is she?” I ask Lanie when she answers the door, and I walk inside.

She releases her brown hair from its ponytail and redoes it. “Not good.”

“No word from Dad?”

“No, I think he’s finally gone for good this time.” Understandable relief is in her tone.

Lanie turned eighteen this year and spent most of her childhood witnessing my parents argue nonstop. I at least got a few good years before my father fell into his gambling addiction.

We stop our conversation when my mom walks into the living room. Her hair is wet and ratty, and she’s dressed in a polka-dot robe. She doesn’t greet us while she settles on the couch and clicks the TV on.

It’s a sad story. My mom, once a beautiful and gifted ballerina, wrecked by an undeserving man. Well, men, if you count the ones she grew up with.

They all ruined her.

That’s something I’ll never allow any of them to do to me.

We wait for my mom’s next move. All morning, she dodged my calls and texts. Lanie said she wouldn’t open her bedroom door for her.

In what seems like slow motion, she raises her eyes and locks them on mine. “No boyfriend this time?”

I flinch at the sneer in her tone.

There’s a clear look of disgust on her face, as if Damien wronged her yesterday instead of helping.

My mom used to be kind and loving.

Known for always having a smile on her face, a jokester, but that isn’t who she is anymore.

I fidget with my purse strap. “Damien is at work.”

“Work?” she huffs. “What’s his line of work, Pippa?”

“He works at a casino.” I wrinkle my nose.

Lanie inhales a long breath.

Fire lights up in my mom’s eyes.

“Are you kidding me?” She fists her hand and pounds it on the table. “Casinos have devastated our lives, Pippa!” She points at me, wiggling her finger. “Don’t you think I don’t know he’s more than a man who works at a casino? I know a made man when I see one. Have you forgotten that I grew up surrounded by them?”

“Mom,” I say around a sigh, “Damien is a good man.”

I want to add that he helped us, got rid of Dad’s debt, and rescued me when Dad’s loan sharks came to me for payment.

But I don’t because she’d find a way to blame him for that too.

“He’s just like Cernach.” She snatches the pack of cigarettes on the table and lights one. She recently picked up a new smoking habit.

My pulse thrums through my body as I try to calm the defensiveness rising inside me. “He’s nothing like Cernach.” I can’t stop myself from gritting out the last word.

She frowns, deep wrinkles appearing on her forehead.

“All men want you to believe they’re not who they truly are,” she says with the least bit of interest. “But in the end, all the things hidden in the dark come to light.” She continues puffing on her cigarette, looking at me with a snarl. “And that’s when you’ll realize I was right. He’s exactly who I think he is.”

“Heads-up, we’re on Amara duty tonight,” Damien says over the phone. “We’re watching her at my place for a while.”

I’m in Julian’s car, waiting for him to return. He’s in my apartment, grabbing my dance bag. I forgot to put it on my list for Damien.

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