Page 38 of Ashes of Saints

AURORA

Parker hasn’t left my side. He drove Chloe and me to the wake and has been standing beside me greeting people and shaking hands for hours.

“Don’t you need to go back to work?” I ask, sipping on my third white wine.

He reaches out and shakes another hand. “Thank you for coming.”

“My condolences.” The man I’ve never seen in my life says.

Chloe wanders over, munching on a little triangle sandwich. “Who the hell puts cucumber in between bread and calls this nutrition?”

Parker snorts, then his face returns to a more appropriate funeral brood.

“The British.” I shrug. “I don’t know.”

“Right. But like in wartime or something. Couldn’t your mom afford to add some ham or lettuce?”

A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. Then I remember she might not be my mom. I haven’t told Chloe yet. The drive to bury her—not Chloe—didn’t feel like the right time to bring it up and go over it.

What if my mother is some kind of criminal?

Or perhaps we are in the witness protection program?

Chloe has no filter, so the last thing I needed was her walking around asking people incredibly vague and strange questions that could backfire.

What if something terrible happened to Mom?

Imagine if I find out she was nearly murdered or raped, and I’ve stood by her grave and disrespected her.

Her only child.

Tears prick in my eyes as a woman heads toward us.

“We never met. My name is Diane. Your mother was a strong woman. My condolences.” She stares at me intently until Parker reaches out his hand.

Like my bodyguard.

“Thank you.”

Diane doesn’t look away immediately, and a shiver runs through me. Then her gaze drops to his hand, she shakes it, glances at me one last time, then walks away.

What the hell was that?

Parker looks at me and I shrug.

I’ve never met her.

“Damon—I mean, Parker—I’m a little confused,” Chloe says, munching on her little sandwich. “How do you know everyone?”

“I don’t.” He grabs a sandwich off a tray beside us and hands it to me. “Eat.”

“No, thanks.”

“You’ve had four wines and no food.”

“See, that’s why you are a business owner. Math.” I giggle.

His raised brow has me taking the soggy bread and shoving it in my mouth. Ugh. I immediately regret it.

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