Page 74 of The Devil's Pawn

“I need to call my mom, and I realized I forgot to charge my very dead phone.”

“So use mine.” She places her fork down, getting up to retrieve her bag from the table across from us.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely!” She digs inside her handbag, her eyes on me. “Wouldn’t want your poor mother worried about you, now, would we?”

“No, I guess we wouldn’t.”

Shame fills my cheeks as she strolls over, handing me the cell. Dante’s house doesn’t have a home phone, and I’d obviously never ask to use a phone belonging to one of the guards.

“Thank you.” I take the cell and get to dialing my mom’s number.

It takes a few rings before her voice comes through the line.

“Hello? Who’s this?” A twinge of her famous attitude comes across.

My throat tightens. Getting off the chair, I tread over to a hallway outside the kitchen where I can talk privately.

“Um, hello?” she continues. “Who the hell is this? You’d better not be some telemarketer because, believe me, I’m going to find your ass and—”

“Mom. It’s me.”

Silence. The seconds trail by, each one like its own eternity. All I hear is her irregular breathing.

“It’s Raq—”

“Oh my God!” she finally cries. “My poor baby! Where are you? Are you hurt?”

I hear her heavy pants, the worry etched in her exhales. Worry I’ve never heard before. And I don’t quite believe it.

“You tell me where you are and I’ll come get you,” she continues. “I have your dad’s rifle. You don’t have to be scared.”

Is this a plot to get me back?

I release a heavy sigh, realizing she thinks I was kidnapped. “I’m not coming back, Mom. I left on my own. I only wanted to call so you guys knew I was okay.”

Stillness blankets her voice, as thick as I know her anger is.

“Of course you’re coming back,” she finally snaps. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not, Mom. I’ve found someone to help me get what I always wanted, and that never included marrying Carlito.”

“You ungrateful child! I don’t understand how you could do this to me!” She sniffles, every bit the drama queen as usual.

But she’s always been a better actress than I ever was.

“To you?” I snap. “This ismygoddamn life!”

“How dare you…”

Her words are gone to the howling of her breaths, so sharp they could cut me. Then she clears her throat.

“You don’t have to marry him,” she throws in with desperation stealing her tone. “I promise. No more. If you really hate him that much, then we’ll figure it out. Your father and Iloveyou. We don’t want this.”

My eyes widen, doubt slithering into my head.

“I don’t know if I believe you, Mom. You never cared how I felt before, so what’s changed now?”

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