Page 144 of The Promise Of Rain
One box after another, he fit them in until there was no room left.
“Is there anything left upstairs?”
“Just my suitcase and toiletries.”
“Excellent.We can fit those in the back seat.”He jerked his chin up at me.“Are you ready for this?”
I waved a hand toward the truck with a laugh.“You’re asking me now?”
“I didn’t say we were going to do anything about it,” he retorted with a chuckle as he closed the distance between us.
A prickle of awareness crept up the back of my neck.
I met Deacon’s eyes and watched the smile on his face fade away at whatever he saw on my face.
His brow furrowed as his gaze sharpened on my face.“What is it?”
I turned my head slowly, the primal part of my brain taking over in the face of a sudden threat.
But that’s all the warning I got.
In her signature high heels, wearing a short wool jacket over an A-line dress with a nipped in waist, she had dressed for a dinner party rather than a walk down Moose Lake’s Main Street.
Her hair, glossy and thick, fell in soft waves around her pretty face.
Playing lady of the manor but choosing one red flag after another, she never met her objective.
Perhaps if she’d focussed on single men rather than those who were married, she might have had more luck.
Even then, the single men she chose were of the calibre who enjoyed raising their voices as well as their fists.
They never lasted long, usually ousted five minutes after the first time their hand landed on the doorknob leading to my bedroom.
For that I’d be forever grateful.
She carried herself like a lady, but the closer she got, the more cracks appeared in the illusion.
I stood frozen in the middle of the sidewalk though some latent instinct screamed at me to get out of her way.
Her gaze turned calculating as she took in Deacon’s truck packed to the gills before returning to me with a glint in her eyes.
Deacon frowned, his big body sending out icy waves of warning as she approached.
Reaching for my hand, he acknowledged my mother with a barely polite nod while doing his utmost to usher me toward the truck without causing a scene.
Focussing in on our clasped hands, the corner of her mouth lifted in a parody of a smile.
“Well, well, isn’t this something.”
“Mom,” I warned sharply.
She laughed and opened her clutch.
“Let’s go,” Deacon ordered, pressing his palm to the small of my back.
“Oh no,” my mother answered while pulling a cigarette from her purse.“You’re going to want to hear this.”
“Stop it, Mom.What you’re doing isn’t right and you know it.”
