Page 185 of The Casualty of Us
But the sight of her has my heart clenching with a sharp ache because she is the absolute spitting image of the boy up in my bed.
It has my already uneven gait hitching for a step, any picture I’ve glanced at of her not doing the resemblance justice. The only difference being his eyes and the strength of his jaw, really, with hers being a vibrant green that I can see from here.
But everything else…her long black hair, the deep olive skin, the features that just somehow work to create a pretty—
“Who are you?”
She tilts her head at me with the question, and I shake off the further sense of familiarity at the move, focusing instead on the hint of a British accent I was definitely not expecting and dropping down into the nearest one of the two chairs acrossfrom her. Shifting a little and trying to find a more comfortable position for a second before the soreness just starts to twinge more. I hide a wince before giving up, letting my body sink into the seat despite the pain and promising myself that as soon as this is done I’m going to force Hayes figure out some way to make it better.
“Hello.” I meet her gaze with a sigh, finally acknowledging her and quickly hardening that wall again. “I’m Ophelia.” The strangeness of this moment starts to set in, and I pause before continuing factually, “And you’re Miranda Simms.”
“Impressive.” Her eyes narrow with a scoff that has that sense of déjá vu kicking up. “You can speak. Now tell me where my son is.” She looks from side to side like he’ll pop out of thin air. “The company he hired at the airport said they brought him here.”
I lift my lips with something that’s not quite a smile before starting with some honesty. “You’re stunning. Truly.” Her face fills with an irritated look but I ignore it, quickly adding instead. “Hayes never mentioned you grew up in England.”
Her childhood was never relevant enough to my goals for me to make it a priority to research, but that bit of an accent is just the cherry on top of her whole package, and looking at her now, I can see so easily how it all went down. The thrall she probably had on the American rocker with the questionable lifestyle before that personality really came to the surface. That hint of fragility she seems to inherently possess and possibly unintentionally display that has me having to work to control the scowl that wants to pop up at it.
Because I can so see the way Hayes would struggle with her—with all of it.
He’s someone who deeply wants to take care of the people he loves and be worthy enough in their eyes to do so, and she’s pretty much the perfect poison to that.
A shade of what I maybe could have been in another life.
“So did you grow up in England?” I prompt when she continues to stare at me like she’s not quite sure what to do before giving a short laugh. “Oh, and would you like tea or coffee?” I lift a brow at her in question, adding carelessly, “How rude of me.”
“No,” she finally snaps back, irritation clear in her voice while reciting rotely. “My mother was from Greece, and my father was from France—they settled on London as a place to raise their children.” She takes a deep breath before giving me a smile of her own that makes me think she definitely does know who I am. “Now would you please go get my son and tell him it’s time to leave the whore behind and come home for Christmas?”
Huh.
There’s the teeth.
So I show my own, giving her a small smile in return and telling her simply. “No.”
Because there’s no way I’m not winning this fight.
She balks, beauty distorting for a split second. “Wha—”
“He’s sleeping,” I cut her off with a drawn-out sigh. “Which he definitely needs, and honestly I see no reason to because you’ll soon be inconsequential in his life.”
Her eyes narrow on me with true loathing this time. “Excuse me?”
“Your only job was to love him, you know?” I cock my head at her, tapping my phone against the arm of the chair. “And I could excuse that maybe, I could. I know things can go wrong in people’s heads more intimately than most, so I get that maybe something went wrong in yours.” Her expression morphs into one of confusion, but I look her up and down thoughtfully. “Maybe the spiral just started one day and no one was paying close enough attention to get you the help you needed.” I settle my gaze back against her rapidly emptying green one beforefinishing point-blank. “But what I can’t excuse is everything he’s endured.”
“I don’t know who you think you are, little girl,” she spits my way, rallying quickly. “But if I have to ask one more time—”
“I. Do. Not. Care.” I lean forward, hissing out the words while narrowing my eyes at her. “I couldn’t give two fucks whether you know who I am or what you think about me because you are already that obsolete in your own son’s life.” My shoulders rise with a quick breath before I quiet my voice to warn her. “Let me be clear about the fact that unless it’s at his request, you will never lay eyes on Hayes again.”
“What are you talking about?” Her face falls, that perfect mask truly fracturing for the first time since I walked in here. “Haye—”
“Shut up,” I snap as she starts to call for him, continuing before she can try again. “You know, it wasn’t all that hard to find with some time and the right people. All those payments throughout the years for counselors and extra nannies and camps that he probably could have really used but never received.” Tapping my phone against the arm of the chair again, keeping the evidence quite literally close at hand. “Not to mention thepeopleyou were constantly bringing around him at all hours, if they can even be called that.” I lift a brow at her, offering the phone instead of smacking it across her perfect face like I’m tempted to do. “Would you like to see? I also have copies of documents showing you diverting a sizable amount of every payment his father has made since the time he was about six into a personal account of yours overseas.”
The account being out of England makes more sense now that I know her background, and I might even have been more forgiving if it had been for her family or something worthy, but it wasn’t. It sat there for her personal use alone.
“How did you even—” she starts then stops quickly, panic flaring in her eyes that has anger pouring from her mouth. “Anything you might have managed to get your hands on was obtained illegally, which means you can go to hell.”
“Hmph,” I snort softly, the sound half amused because— “It doesn’t matter though, does it? Once information gets out there and the truth is known, there’s no taking it back.” The panic starts to take over her face at the undeniability of that, and I shrug carelessly. “And sure, maybe I’ll get a slap on the wrist, but I honestly have no idea how the information was obtained, only that I paid dearly for it.” I let a little giggle bubble past my lips that’s just this side of crazy before reminding her, “Because I’m just a little girl, right? I don’t think anyone would look too long at me when they have all that embezzlement and fraud to sort through.”
Making it clear just who has the leverage here.
