Page 52 of Chasing Danger

My baffled expression must have been obvious, but my mother didn’t notice.

She was too busy stumbling over her own words.

“Since you were going to be gone for a bit, I finally took a look at our finances for myself. I don’t know why I let you talk me into taking care of the bills on your own.” She finally met my eyes, and there were unshed tears clinging to her eyelashes. “We have a lot of debt, but it’s significantly lower than it should be. Oliver...”

A few tears slipped from her eyes, and her chin wobbled as she struggled not to cry. “Oh, Oliver. I can’t imagine what you’ve been doing to make that much extra money, but it’s not... it’s not... Please tell me you didn’t do anything dangerous, or... or...”

She couldn’t even bring herself to finish the statement as she broke down into actual sobs.

My extra night job at the club?

That’s what she was so worked up over?

I knew what she was insinuating I’d done, and a month ago I would have been upset over the accusation. However, such concerns seemed inconsequential after everything else I’d recently experienced.

“Um, yeah.” I scratched at my scarred arm, not sure what to say now that my expectations for the conversation had been derailed. “I have a night job. It’s no big deal. I just didn’t tell you about it because I didn’t want you to worry that I was overworking myself.”

“Did you sell yourself?” My grandmother’s voice was surprisingly flat when she said this.

I jerked back so hard in surprise that my chair scraped against the floor. “What? No. I was hired to dance at a club. That’s it.”

My grandmother’s expression didn’t change. “I know what kind of club you’re talking about. Even if no one touched you, you still sold your body for others’ enjoyment.”

“Nana…” My mother’s hand slammed against the table. “That isn’t helping. Look, Oliver. We’re not judging you, but that kind of... work… isn’t safe. You need to stop. I know you’re worried about our finances and taking care of Rowan, but it isn’t your responsibility. This is for me to handle, and I’ve been pushing things off on you too much. You need to focus on living your own life.”

Living my life?

That was going to be a lot harder while being targeted by the Mafia. Despite stepping into the house with a goal in mind, I’dlet the conversation slip away from me, and I needed to get back to the real issue.

Placing my open hands on the table, I forced myself to stay calm.

“Rowan is my brother, so his health is my concern as well. However, that’s not actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Looking both my mother and grandmother in the eye, I channeled all the confidence I had.

“I know about my father, and about the fire. Why did you never tell me my father was a part of the Mafia, and that he set the fire intentionally?” I automatically raised my hand to touch my cheek, tracing the raised texture of the scars there.

In an oddly similar gesture, my mother also raised her hand, but she covered her mouth to control a new wave of sobs.

Silence wrapped the room in a stifling embrace. I would have wondered if I’d gone deaf, but after a minute my grandmother stood to start preparing a pot of tea, and the clink of porcelain seemed to ring as loud as church bells in the silence.

Eventually, she returned and placed a cup of tea in front of each of us at the table. Only after taking a sip did my mother finally collect herself enough to respond.

“Where did you learn about that?”

I swirled the teacup in my hands, watching the sugar dissolve in the drink. Tea wasn’t as common of a selection at the coffee shop, so I didn’t know as much about it. I didn’t recognize the type, but it must have been a particularly strong flavor because the color was unusually dark. I couldn’t even see the bottom of the cup.

Tea was supposed to be calming. I suppose my mother needed as much calm as could be condensed into a single cup.

“So, it is true. Dad really was a part of the Mafia, and he stole from them, then set our house on fire in order to help himself run away.”

She didn’t even try to deny it.

Gripping the cup in a tight fist, I angrily threw back half the drink in one go. It definitely had a strong taste, but I was too upset to even notice anything other than the heat on my tongue.

My mother cast a look toward Nana, as if waiting to see if the other woman had anything to add but was met with only more silence. Taking another sip of her own tea, she finally gave me an actual answer.

“Your father may not have been a good man, but he didn’t intend to hurt you. You were supposed to be sleeping over at a friend’s house that night, and he probably didn’t realize that you’d come back early.”

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