Page 52 of Venomous Kiss
“I care.”
“I can have Deven killed if you’d like. Just because I’m in here doesn’t mean I didn’t hear about your husband.” I try to hide my smile at the fact that he cares. I like it. It’s nice to know that someone loves you and is willing to do the unthinkable for you.
“Deven can keep breathing. He doesn’t affect me. Just leave it. He is insignificant to me.”
He nods. “Talk to Linda. Be kind to her. Even after what I did, what I took away from her, she still took you in.”
“I will.”
Linda is on her hands and knees in the garden, a sunhat on her head and sunglasses covering her eyes.
“Thought you would have bought a better car than that.” She points at my car, and I smile. Deven hated my car, too, but it gets me where I need to go. So, what if some paint is missing? It has never failed me yet, and that is something I can’t say for many people in my life. “With all that money you have now,” she adds, then goes back to digging in her garden. I find a good spot in the grass close to her and sit down.
“Tell me about her,” I say, and she pauses but doesn’t look at me.
“Who?”
“My mother. Tell me about her.”
“You’ve never asked before. Not once.”
“How would you remember?” I say to her, and I’m aware that it’s rude. But it’s also the truth; she was always drunk.
“I remember you sneaking out, sneaking boys in. I remember. Even if I drank to numb the pain, I remember Lilith.” She pats the dirt and lifts her watering can, tipping it over the soil. “Your mother was my friend first, not his. I sometimes wish I had never introduced them. Would her life have turned out the same? You know, these are the things one thinks when someone dies.”
“You blame yourself?”
“I blame myself for a lot of things, but the death of your mother is not one of them.” She reaches for a glass of tea next to her and drinks it. “She was very excited to have you, even if she was young. We were all young and working things out as we went.” Her lower lip goes between her teeth as her brows pinch together. “I don’t remember in great detail how she died… That would be a question you need to ask your father.”
“He doesn’t talk much about her.”
“No, he never really did after. That’s when he kind of lost it.”
“Lost it?” I ask.
“Yes. He became more callous and more deeply involved in that Society of his.” My brows shoot up. “Oh, yes, I know it all.” She shakes her head. “That Society is wrong and bad in so many ways. Rich men are an awful thing, especially when they pool together and have that much power at their fingertips.”
“I think I’m a little bad,” I whisper.
“We all are, in some ways. At least you admit it. Others hide it.” She stands, goes to an area scattered with pots, and gets a new plant before she returns and sits beside me.
“You had her hair. Your eyes are like your father’s, but your hair was like hers. Your attitude was all your father, too. It’s why I knew when to leave you alone. I knew back then to leave him alone, too. Where your father was mean, your mother was soft. They balanced each other out, you know.”
“What happens when you love someone who is the same fucked-up as you?” I ask quietly.
She lays her hand on my leg and squeezes. “Disaster.” Her answer shakes me.
She goes back to planting as we sit in silence.
“Will you tell me about Tuck?” Her hands freeze, and I see a slight shake take over them. “You don’t have to.”
She glances at me, unshed tears in her eyes as her bottom lip trembles. “It’s good to talk about those you love, dead or alive.” She lifts her gloved hands and wipes her eyes. “Do you think you love him?” she asks.
“Who?”
“The man you’re running from.”
Her attempt to change the topic gives me pause.
