Page 39 of Ashes of Saints

“See.” Chloe says pointedly. “Anyway, nice diversion, but...” She glances around.

“I replied. I don’t know them.”

“Neither do I.” I spit the food into a napkin and toss it on the table.

Parker turns his body to face me. “None of them?”

I guess if he is going to find out who I really am, there is no time like the present. I toss back the rest of the wine and feel the alcohol burn in my veins. One more and I should be feeling so much better.

“I know her lawyer and those two women over there. Barely. They’ve been friends for years and meet for lunches and yoga. I think they went on a Caribbean cruise once. I don’t know them all that well. Enough to say hello.”

“No relatives?”

I sigh. “Nooooo.”

My reply comes out a little loud and dramatic. Parker is expressionless as he watches me, but those deep blue eyes of his try to get inside my soul.

I can’t let them.

He’s going to fully reject me completely now, so I may as well just tell him everything. Almost everything.

“No dad. No aunt. No siblings. No cousins. Maybe I was hatched?” I throw out my hands and knock over a glass of water.

Everyone turns at the noise.

“Ooops.” I scoop up the bottle of wine and refill my glass, feeling myself wobble. “Sorry, my wings get in the way.”

Then I chuckle at my joke.

Chloe laughs and then apologizes when he glares at her. “Babe. Eat some of the shit cucumber sandwiches. Parker is right.”

A snort escapes me.

Parker looks horrified; like he doesn’t know what to do with the two of us and it makes me laugh even more.

In true best friend fashion, Chloe keeps laughing with me and before I know it, we are bending over in hysterics.

At my mom’s funeral.

Or whoever she is.

Parker curses, but I don’t care. I just want to escape the thoughts in my head and my dumb life.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

PARKER

This must be the smallest and messiest apartment I’ve ever been in. Her sofa is squished against the wall and there is a small TV on a stack of books. Between them is a coffee table that I’m not sure could withstand the weight of my daily coffee, let alone my legs.

Not that I plan to relax and put them up there.

“Eat.” I point to the burger and fries Aurora requested.

After leaving the wake, promising Chloe I would take her home, I put her in the back of my car and told Durran to swing by the fast-food restaurant.

Eric ordered the burgers and shakes, also getting some for the two of them.

I don’t usually eat processed food. A six-pack doesn’t magically appear or stay around if you put low quality fuel in your body. But I was starving. Chloe wasn’t wrong about the food at Mary-Anne’s funeral.

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