Page 139 of Wedlock
“Your mother,” I raise both eyebrows. “You said she was imprisoned.”
“She is, of sorts,” he shrugs.
“Of sorts? I hope she’s secure?”
He shakes his head, avoiding my question.
“She’s revealed everything to me. She’s sorry, Angie. She’s working hard to make things right.”
“Is she?” I snap. “And where is she right now?”
“She’s in the West Wing. But I allow her out nightly to spend time with Tiger.”
“I see. You’d trust your son with her? After what she did?”
He frowns.
“Her plans for our daughter are diabolical, I know. I don’t expect you’ll forgive her any time soon, and neither will I. But…”
“I’m not talking about our daughter, Falcon. I’m talking about her poisoning your son.”
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I don’t like hurting her, after all, she’s my mother, but by Christ, it feels good right now.
“Falcon,” she gasps, her face turning puce as I squeeze the life out of her, “please, please don’t do this.”
Her eyes flick wildly behind me, and I turn to see Jag enter Mother’s suites. I hadn’t invited him, so I have no idea what he’s doing here. As usual, he’s a fucking killjoy.
“Falcon, I don’t want to break your fingers, but I will if you don’t release your mother.”
Snarling, I let her go and watch, satisfied, as she sinks to the carpet, her breath coming in loud gasps.
“What are you doing in my castle?”
“I was invited.”
“Is that so? The last time I looked,Iwas lord of this castle. I don’t want you here unless I specifically call on you. You lost the privilege of enjoying my hospitality when you betrayed me. That hasn’t changed.”
“The last timeIlooked, you had my sword in your guts.”
“And you’d lost an eye and one arm to mine,” I snarl.
“Grew back,” he shrugs, “regardless, I’m here at the invitation of your mother, who is still the lady of this castle.”
“Not for long. If you hadn’t interrupted me I’d have strangled the bitch by now.”
“But you have not. Which makes me think that’s bullshit.”
I snarl and run my hands through my hair in suppressed rage.
He’s right. My whole life I’ve barely raised my voice to the woman now sprawling at my feet, let alone my hand. Killing her is the right thing to do, for my son, for my wife, to ensure no more secrets, but I’m simply unable to do it. Still, it galls that he knows this.
“So, you’d give up your busy Amish lifestyle to sup tea with the woman who poisons babies?”
Jag nods, his face registering no surprise at this revelation.
“You knew this, too?”
