Page 161 of Severed Rivalry
I come home just after the sun rises, exhausted emotionally and physically.
Liam sits at the island, pounding away at his laptop, looking no worse for wear. My list sits beside him with lines drawn through two items.
“So I don’t need to worry about the Laotians or the app developers?”
He shakes his head, his full beard dancing with the motion. “Laotians are back in their home country, making trouble for their own. Others will rise up stateside, but Denver is off their radar, at least as far as all hackable channels go. Never say never, but they’re out of my mind enough to tick them off.”
“And Connect2Coach?”
“The owners and the developers who knew are in federal custody. I won’t write them off in the long term, but for now, their lawyers don’t have nearly the firepower they’ll need to bring anything down on Sariah.”
I exhale feeling taller by the moment.
“I suspect they could mess with her at some point, but they won’t have access to computers for a long while. I set up some alerts that will notify you. Emails for anything newsworthy. Anything more urgent, and we’ll all know. She’s safe.”
“You make that sound easy.”
“Easier than Mom or therapy,” he says, nodding at the list as he closes the lid of his computer. “I choose my battles. That said, I’m digging into that last one. We’ll figure it out.”
With a handshake and no other fanfare, he sees himself out. The roar of his motorcycle fades as I start the coffee and flop on the sofa. I whistle low, but only scratching meets my ears.
I’m loathe to open Renée’s door, but for Eleanor. I crack it as minimally as possible and let my girl slip out—our girl, I guess, officially—and then outside.
We stand in the sunshine. She sniffs and I pace. I scan the tree line like a sniper waits there just to pick us off. My imagination wasn’t this creative as a child.
In order to set my mind at ease, I do the hardest thing, and the most basic one, on my list.
I slide my phone from my pocket and dial my mom.
“Cian? How are you?”
“Hi, Mom.”
There’s an awkward pause. When did this get so difficult?
“How are you recovering?”
“Eh. It’s okay. The dental stuff is scheduled. I’m hoping that’s a one-and-done. My cheek required a follow up and chances are itwill require a second surgery. I—” I pause, deciding how much to reveal. “I reinjured it last weekend.”
“How?” The panic in her voice is rising.
“What’s wrong?” my father booms from the background.
“This isn’t going to be easy, so I’m just going to spit it out. I met someone. We’re forming a life together. She has a child, and we’ll have more together.”
“Ci—”
“Let me finish.” My voice is placating and tender. “I love you and I want you in our lives. My father is not welcome. You need to decide how you want to proceed with that knowledge.”
“Ci.” Her voice is sharp in reprimand.
“No, Mom. This is non-negotiable. If you want to know your granddaughter or your future grandkids, this is the way it’s going to be.”
“But—” she starts but she’s cut off by the voice in the background. “Janie.” His voice is a warning.
“That right there—that’s why. But you have the choice. Let me know what you decide.” I pause but add, “I love you.” I disconnect.
I don’t envy my mom. She got the same speech from my sister while I was in surgery after the whole debacle in Lakewood. And Liam… Well, Liam won’t say it. It’s straight up assumed. He wants nothing to do with our sperm donor, so I’m the third and final nail in the child and grandchild coffin. That should be eye-opening. Instead, I’m afraid she sees it as three failures against her.
