Page 20 of Redemption's Inferno

“It makes my mum happy to think I’m finally going to settle down—can we just keep up the charade until we leave?”

She nodded. “If that’s what you want, I’ll play along, but in private, we have to keep things platonic.”

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is.”

* * *

Emilie excused herself to take a shower after supper and Chains helped his mother clean the kitchen. It had been a quiet but friendly meal as Dolores caught Chains up on the lives of people he’d known while growing up and told stories of him as a child. Emilie had been amused but subdued, making herself scarce at the first opportunity. As she wiped down the counters, Dolores waited for Chains to come in from taking out the trash.

“Come sit with me,” she said, motioning towards her sitting room. She sank into her favorite chair and took out the scarf she’d been knitting. It was bright pink and would have splashes of purple in it when it was done. She made them for the children in the cancer ward at the local hospital because they appreciated them and it gave her something to do now that she’d retired.

“I’ve some things I need to do,” he said, following her.

“I haven’t seen you in five bloody years,” she said, her fingers working the needles deftly. “Sit your arse down and let’s have a chat.”

He sighed, but was smiling as he sank onto the floor beside her chair, just as he’d done when he was a child. She’d read to him in this chair, rocked him in it and swatted him on the head with whatever she had handy while sitting there as well. It made him smile as he thought about it and he wasn’t surprised when she reached out to run her fingers through his dreads.

“When did you get these?” she asked. “They’re interesting—make you look like a villain.”

He shrugged. “I guess I was. That’s why I got them—gave me more credibility with the bad guys.”

“You’re not a villain.” She gripped his chin and tipped his face up so he was looking at her. “You’re my strong, noble, reliable Darryl. Always up for doing the right thing—in school, in the military, and I’m sure when you were with intelligence as well. What’s happened to you, my beautiful boy? Why has the light gone out of your eyes?”

He’d gone up against some of the toughest, meanest, most vile human beings in existence during his time with MI6 and had never once broken down or given up, but his mother’s loving words combined with her fixed stare was more than he could stand. He gently moved her hand so he could turn his head, but he didn’t get up.

“Something happened,” she persisted. “You’re different. Not just the hair and tattoos, but your soul—I see it clear as day in your eyes. You’re suffering, my boy, and you’re not leaving my sight until I know why.”

He sighed heavily and rested his head against her leg, just like he’d done when he was a little boy. It had always been just the two of them and they’d been close. Even when he’d gone away to attend Oxford or when he’d been in the military. It had been harder once he’d been recruited by MI6, but he’d still kept in touch. It wasn’t until he’d been betrayed by someone close to him he’d had to cut off all communication. He’d told her he would be dropping off the grid and had come up with a code name with which he could send her the occasional postcard, but after what happened on that mission he’d moved to the United States and had never looked back. He knew she had to have been hurt and confused, but he didn’t know how to explain it.

“Whatever it is, love, you’ll get past it. No matter what, you know Mummy loves you, yeah?”

He smiled, loving the timbre of her voice and the way she stroked his hair. “I know.”

“You haven’t fooled me,” she said softly. “Something isn’t right with you and Emilie either, and I don’t know if it’s because of this nonsense about her killing someone or whatever it is you’re hiding, but the two of you would be stronger if you stood together instead of fighting whatever it is you’re feeling.”

“She’s dealing with her own shit, doesn’t have the time for mine.”

“I think you underestimate her. She’s stronger than she appears.”

“She’s one of the strongest women I know—been through so much but always gives a hundred percent to everything: her child, her friends, her job…she’s a bit of a mystery to me, but a good woman.”

“You’re not really engaged, are you?” Dolores took up her knitting again. “You came here for something other than just seeing me and thought you’d distract me by bringing around a fake fiancée. Stop lying, Darryl. Just tell me the truth.”

“I—” He sighed. “It’s complicated. As we drove here and she told me about this situation she’s in, all I could think about was taking care of her, rescuing her from herself. I thought it would make you happy to tell you we were dating and when I ran the idea by her she seemed willing to play along. But every time we talk about being engaged it feels…like more than a ruse. I don’t bloody know why. I don’t do relationships. I don’t even know the woman, not really! She’s my boss. I came to find her because all of our friends back home were worried about her and then…” He paused, unwilling to talk about how he’d found her. “She was emotionally overwrought,” he said finally. “She feels she needs to be punished but doesn’t even know what happened exactly. I’m so bloody attracted to her, but I don’t dare get involved.”

“You’re already involved,” his mother responded, her eyes never leaving the needles in her hands.

“You know what I mean.”

“I do. But it doesn’t change the facts. You’re already involved. Maybe not the way you want to be, but something’s there. You just have to be man enough to embrace it.”

“Mum, if I can’t take the chance that someone from my past would come after you, how could I possibly take that chance with a woman? And, God help me, a family?”

“What’s the point of living if you don’t enjoy it? Why did you risk your life for your country if not to be able to enjoy the freedom to live? And your Emilie seems as lost as you are, love. Seems to me all that kinky nonsense in the bedroom makes you blind to what’s real and what’s sex!”

“Mum!” He had no idea she knew what kind of club Inferno was, or that he dabbled in the BDSM lifestyle.

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