Page 30 of Raphael (Belles & Mobsters 5)

Screams bubbled in my throat, but Anya said to be quiet.

So I bit into my hand. Hard. I felt the pain and heard the noises making my stomach churn. I hated that fucking bed. Hot, salty tears dripped down my chin.

“Scream, damn it.”

A cold sweat broke out across my forehead and a tremble started in my hands and spread through my body. My lungs tightened and my heart raced. My fingers curled into fists, my fingernails digging into the palms of my hands.

Breathe, Sailor.I could almost hear Anya’s voice mixing with the sounds of the night. I took a deep breath in, letting it swell my lungs and then exhaled slowly. Repeating it again, and again, my heart rate finally slowed.

I glanced at the clock that showed half past eight. I hated the idea that lurked in my mind, but short of asking the Ashfords for money, which I didn’t want to do, this was my only other option. Neither Anya nor I had ever had a good relationship with our mother, but she was our mother. She had to care about us at least a little bit. She cried when Anya died and had asked me to come back home on several occasions. It must mean she cared, at least a little bit. Maybe I could appeal to her good nature.

Apprehension twisted in my stomach, the lead in the pit of it warning me, but I ignored it. It was my pride. Flicking another glance at the clock, my decision was made.

My father wouldn’t be back home for another hour, assuming he kept the same routine.

I’d ask my mother for help. I needed money. When I walked away from them, I walked away from everything. Money, clothes, inheritance. I had to start from scratch, but thanks to the Ashfords, it wasn’t a painful process. It was only thanks to the Ashford brothers that I survived that first week. That first year.

I’d been happier than ever. Gabriel was safe and such a good baby. My confirmation that I had made the right choice was on his face every day.

I haven’t talked to my parents in over seven years. I walked away the day Gabriel was born. When I left the hospital with my sister’s baby, it was without a dime to my name, leaving me homeless and possessionless.

I never even had a chance to ask for help. Byron took me in, letting me stay in his penthouse with the baby, while he secured a place for me and the baby to stay. Aurora and Willow left the college dorm and stayed with us. Byron hired a nanny to watch the baby so I could continue college, purchased anything and everything the baby and I needed, and paid the next four years of my tuition.

It was something I’d never be able to repay. There was no way I’d put him in the middle of this. Risk his and his family’s lives.

But I needed enough money to disappear.

With a heavy heart, I pressed the call button and listened to the rings,sending my pulse into overdrive.

“McHale residence.” I recognized the voice of our old butler, James.

“Hello, James,” I greeted him. “It’s Sailor.”

“Miss McHale, so nice to hear from you.” Truthfully, James was the nicest person in the McHale household. I never understood why he stayed, instead of moving on to a more normal family. My parents had to be the most dysfunctional couple to ever walk this earth.

“You too, James. How are you? And your family?”

“They are doing well, thank you. And you and your son?” My heart squeezed that he’d remembered and a tiny flicker of hope ignited in my chest. Maybe my mom kept tabs on us. Otherwise, how would he know?

“He’s doing wonderfully,” I told him. “He’s seven now and so smart. He makes me proud every day.”

James’ soft chuckle traveled over the line. “If he’s anything like you, he’s a remarkable boy.”

My throat clogged, emotions choking it.

“Is my mom around?” I asked.

“Perfect timing. The bridge society ladies are scheduled to arrive in ten minutes.”

God, some things never changed. After all these years, she still ran the bridge society. It was a group of ladies that had no touch with reality and certainly no aspirations. I cringed at the possibility of being stuck in such an empty life. I wouldn’t trade all these years of financial hardship for anything.

“Thanks,” I muttered. My heart hammered against my chest in anticipation, the uncertainty slithering through my veins.

“Hello?” My mother’s voice came through the line. It was cold and reserved. Maybe James hadn’t told her it was me calling.

“Hello, Mother,” I rasped. “It’s me.” Then unsure whether she recognized my voice, I added, “Sailor.”

I was her only living daughter. We should have grown closer, instead our family fell apart.

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