Page 85 of Seduced By the Werewolves

It feels like a dagger right through my chest that my own mother would use a word like that. Maybe she’s right. My pulse speeds up, and my breaths start coming short and fast. What if what I’m doing is wrong? What if the life we’ve already started living, that makes me so happy, is corrupted?

I squash my eyes closed, trying to calm my pulse. No. Mom’s wrong. What we have may not look like other relationships, but it means the world to me, and we’ve fought hard for it. I’m not going to let my mother and her opinions influence me. She’s already beaten me down for too long.

I stand up straight. I took it from Mr. Bosley for years, and I’ve taken it from her, too, without argument. But I’m fucking tired of it. I’m tired of making myself smaller, of making excuses, of feeling bad about myself so she can feel superior.

“That’s it,” I say, drawing on all the confidence I’ve worked hard to build since our confrontation with Beatrice. I have Leon, Jace, Quinn and Eli to back me up. “We’re going. Right now.”

I turn around and walk back out of the kitchen without another word, to where the four brothers have seated themselves at the table. They all look up and cock their heads when I come in.

“Come on,” I say, grabbing Quinn’s hand off the table and pulling him along as I pass. “She doesn’t want us here, so we’re leaving.”

“What?” Eli shoots the kitchen a dark look. “What happened?”

Jace and Leon, both perplexed, follow me to the front door.

“She told me in no uncertain terms that she doesn’t approve,” I spit out. “And I’m not going to spare another moment on her.”

Eli doesn’t follow us as we head for the front door. No, when my mom exits the kitchen again, he whirls on her with a furious expression.

“What did you say to Tiff?” he demands. Mom flinches at the tone of his voice, her eyes going wide. “What did you tell her to upset her like this?”

Mom’s mouth falls open. “I, um…” She clearly doesn’t know what to do with someone Eli’s size getting in her face. “I just said that?—”

“She called me a slut,” I finish for her. I’m not going to shield her anymore, to downplay how much she hurts me. She can own up to her words.

Eli grits his teeth. “You what? You said that to your own daughter?”

Mom shoots me a helpless look. “Honey, that’s not what I meant?—”

“It is what you meant, isn’t it, though?” I say. “You wanted to hurt me. To make me feel bad for how I’ve chosen to live my life. But I don’t feel bad, not one bit.” I twine my fingers with Eli’s. “I’m really happy, for once. I’m loved, and I have a cool new job managing their very successful landscaping company.”

My mother blinks. “Oh, you’re the manager now?” Her gaze becomes scrutinizing. “That’s a lot of responsibility on just you.”

“So?” I snap. “I’m good at it.” Leon squeezes my shoulder, emboldening me. “No, I do a great job. I’ve been basically doing it for years for Mr. Bosley. I’m running everything now, and we have timelines, and we’re writing up more accurate estimates, and…”

Mom holds up her hands. “Okay, I hear you, Tiffany.”

“Do you?” I wouldn’t need to be so defensive if she didn’t always go on the attack. “I’m finally where I feel like I’m meant to be, Mom. And I don’t know why you can’t just be happy for me.”

No one speaks as Mom stands there, frozen.

“Tiffany...”

“What? What else do you have to say?” I realize that I’m so worked up I’m panting. But none of the guys speak. They’ll let me fight my fight with her. “What other nasty barbs do you have? What other holes can you poke in me to make me hate myself?”

My mother looks genuinely wounded. She opens her mouth to speak, but then studies my face, where I must be wearing all my anger and my hurt very plain, and she closes it. Instead, she gestures at the table.

“Come on. Come back inside.” She gives me her best approximation of an apologetic face. “You know I didn’t mean what I said, Tiffany. Sweetie.”

I roll my eyes. Of course she’s backpedaling. I’ve never talked to her like this in my entire life, and certainly not with four huge, hairy men at my side.

“Take a seat, please,” Mom says to the guys. “Maybe we can start over? Hmm?”

Eli glances at me, and I know that whatever I say, they’ll go along with it. I could walk out of here and let my mom believe what she believes—or we could stay here and show her that she’s truly wrong about us.

“All right,” I say finally, sitting down.

When we’re all seated around the table, Mom serves what she has, asking lots of questions about where they work (“Oh, my, you’re doing a job in that neighborhood? How lovely”) and what kind of revenue they have. I explain what I’ll be doing to manage the company.

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