“I’m not a child,” I say firmly.
She talks like she doesn’t hear me. “We all have lines. The worst of us. The monsters we lock away and try not to think about. Even they have a code of honor.”
“Your daughter isn’t a monster.” I lift my chin. “Call me what you want, but Grey did notgroomme. I was an adult when Ichoseher, and I was an adult when I pursued her. Everyone else can think what they want, but you of all people should know the truth.”
“The truth is that youruinedher.” Marion stares me down, going from thirsty to downright gluttonous for my pain. “But ifyou think that’s how my daughter’s story will end, you’re crazy. You’ve blinded her, but somewhere in that love-struck, foolish spell you’ve woven, she’s still strong. She’s still fighting. She’s not so lost in you that she’ll let you consume her. Not yet. Not completely. She will break free.”
“What if she doesn’t want to be free? Or…” I look down at her, “what if I give her a different kind of freedom?”
Marion sneers.
“I have a past. I’ve had my fun, and you’re right, I had it publicly. But I’m done with that. I only want Grey. And knowing I don’t deserve her makes me more determined toearn her.To prove that?—”
Marion tilts her chin back and laughs.
The irritation inside rises to the bait. I itch to defend myself. To defendus. But Marion isn’t interested in anything I have to say.
“Have you ever seen a little girl study in the dark? I have.” She purses her lips, lost in a memory. “They cut our lights and Grace had a test the next morning. That little girl picked up her chair and moved it to the window to study by moonlight. And when the clouds covered the moon, she moved to the window by the lamppost.”
I believe her. Grey craves the light like a motorcycle craves the open road.
She is everything that is good and right and true in this world. Her devotion to Sloane, her loyalty to her mother, the multiple attempts she made to end things with me, it’s all because of that light. The more my darkness tries to pull her to the depths, the more her light shines through.
“Even if it means I lose my life,” Grey’s mother looks up at me, “Iwillsave her.”
With a choppy spin, Marion bends down, picks up her purse and takes out an envelope. She presses it into my stomach.
“What is this?”
“Divorce papers.”
I temper my breath, forcing myself to remain still. To remain calm.
“I’ve already signed them.” The envelope crinkles under her manicured nails. “I’m done being stubborn about it. I’ll leave. I won’t take anything but my daughter and the clothes on my back.”
My nostrils flare.
I remain still.
Marion sees I haven’t moved to take the envelope and her gaze strays to my face. “This is what you wanted, right? You and your brothers? This is why you screwed my daughter and held her at ransom? So I would leave your father, walk out of your lives? So you could have your kingdom back?”
“This isn’t what I want,” I practically growl.
The inheritance.
The plan to separate dad and Marion.
It feels like a distant world.
“I love your daughter. And I will never,everleave her side.”
Marion’s grip on the divorce papers loosens.
The envelope wafts to the floor, as light as a feather despite the heavy, world-changing document inside.
I don’t see her hand until it’s too late. Until it’s cracking across my face and sending my head skittering to the left.
“Take me instead,” she spits. Cool sweat curdles on her skin, creating incandescent droplets that skate down her temple to her chin. “Kill me instead. Destroy me instead!”