Page 517 of Cheaters: A Dark Romance Anthology

She avoided looking me in the eye as she pulled her arm out of my hold. “Empty words now. I’ll go back through everything I can find in Mom’s stuff and go and visit her to ask her about Mr. Owens’ money. If I find anything, I’ll let you know.”

And with that, she turned and walked out, leaving me wondering how the fuck I was going to fix things with her. I wasn’t lying—it might have started as a lie between us so I could find what Harry needed, but it’d quickly turned into something real, with emotions I’d never felt before. Not for the first time since I’d accepted what I felt for her, the matter of James Owens’ money and Harry’s friendship didn’t even come close to what my priority was—Eva.

I’d started off pissed that she hadn’t raised what her mom had done from the get-go, but I’d quickly understood it all once I’d figured out how Eva operated and what made her tick.

All of the assumptions I’d had about her had disappeared almost immediately, and what was left was a reality, meaning I understood way more than I’d intended to. From that, my feelings had grown, leaving me wondering who was really cheating whom out of the two of us.

That’s what relationships were—an evolution. You grew and morphed into something different the longer you were together, and I’d been hoping that we’d be able to stand the truth once it all came out.

Taking one last look around the lockup, I made my decision—not that there was another acceptable outcome of all of this. There was no way in hell I was going to lose her. I was going to fight.

Chapter Six

EVA

I’d visited Mom a lot over the last twelve and a half years, but I could honestly say that I hadn’t felt as sick and nervous as I did right now since the first or second time I’d come here. I remembered those first visits—the mental image of something out of a television show, gangs and fights everywhere making me feel like I was suffocating as I’d gone through security and waited outside until they’d allowed us into the room for visitors.

The reality was far different. Whatever the women's crimes and reasons for being incarcerated, they all came in calmly to see their families, all of whom were seated at circular tables. They didn’t cuff them to the table, there were no plexiglass walls keeping us apart, and cakes with shanks and chisels inside them weren’t exchanged.

Instead, the people—both the inmates and the visitors—were visibly emotional as they caught up with each other, and it made my heart feel heavy. These women had committed crimes they were being punished for, and their families—most of them innocent bystanders—also felt that punishment but still loved them.

If you’d have asked me before Mom was charged if I’d be able to love still someone who’d done something like this, I’d like to think I’d have said yes, but I wasn’t sure. Being in the middle of it, the juxtaposition of the criminal being my mom…it was impossible for me to turn my back on her.

But I was still hurt all these years later by what she’d done and the position she’d put my siblings and me in as well as what she’d ended up doing to herself. She’d never again get to be the loving, fun parent the world had seen her as before.

Even if they didn’t know her, they’d look at her CV, see what she’d done and served time for, or do a background check on her and see it in more detail, and that would be it. We’d all been questioned back then about accounts in our names that we hadn’t even known about, treated like criminals until the police had to believe us. Her kids were always going to be seen as the children of a con-woman, and we’d be judged for her crimes, too, and I knew that because it’d already happened, even after we’d been cleared.

Even with the man who I’d thought wouldn’t.

Cutting me off from that depressing reality, the droning noise that signaled the doors for the inmates to come through sounded, and the other visitors stood up, eagerly awaiting their loved ones. For the first time, I wasn’t one of them. Instead, I put my face in my hands and rested my elbows on the table, preparing myself for what I had to do.

“Eva? Honey, are you okay?” Mom asked from in front of me, sounding worried sick.

“Is everything okay here?” Another voice asked, one that I recognized as one of the female guards who’d been working here for around two years, Larna. She was one of the few friendly ones who always said hi and remembered our names. I wasn’t absolutely sure of it, but I liked to think she was the same with the inmates.

Raising my head, I smiled weakly at the woman. “Yeah, sorry, just a headache.”

Larna winced. “I hate those things. Enjoy your visit together, and I hope you feel better soon, Eva.”

Sitting down, Mom looked me over, her expression getting more concerned. “What’s happened? What’s wrong? Oh, God, is it one of the girls? Euan?”

“No, no, they’re all fine. Great, in fact. Euan’s overworking as usual, and Chloe and Laura are both dating their way through Illinois.”

She relaxed slightly but watched me closely. “Is it your job? Your home?”

“Where did you put the missing money?” I spat out, only remembering at the last minute to whisper it. “There are twenty million dollars that a man called James Owens wants back that you and Roy stole from him. I also found a bank statement with a transfer from Roy for one hundred thousand the day after you were sentenced. Where’s that money?”

Her eyes widened as she leaned farther forward. “What?” The word was said so quietly I couldn’t hear it properly over the noise of the other people in the room with us, but I was able to read her lips perfectly as well as the horrified expression on her face.

“You heard me. A man called Harry Owens got his friend, Joshua Reagan, to date me to find out where his uncle’s money is. He wants it back. I mean, I’ll never have that amount of money, but if I were in his shoes, I’d be wanting it back, too. I also don’t know how I didn’t spot the bank statement when I was packing everything up, but I do know it’s never been in your bank account because I watch it and pay whatever needs to be paid out of it for the house and any repairs it needs.”

When we’d rented out the house, we’d decided to put the rental income into her account after the authorities had unfrozen it for any repairs and taxes, as well as any emergencies that me and my sisters and brother might have. I checked it regularly and knew exactly what had been paid into and out of it since the day she’d been locked up, and she knew this.

Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times before she slowly shook her head. “I swear, Eva, I’ve never had any of that money. I didn’t even know he’d taken twenty million from someone. I mean, holy shit, that’s…” she shook her head, looking almost sick. “I could never do that.”

“But you did do that. That’s why we’re sitting here right now,” I pointed out as I watched her, trying to gauge if I believed her or not. “And what account is the one hundred thousand in?”

Mom frowned. “He never gave me that money. The agreement was that I’d get paid when I got out of here.” The second the words were out, her mouth shut with an audible click as her teeth hit each other.

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