Page 123 of Cruel Malady: A Necrosis of the Mind

“How did you get pulled into this?” I quiz her.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Was it some other Blakely Vaughn who called me at three a.m. looking for a ride to Manhattan?” She takes a dramatic sip of her mimosa, and the crystal flutetinksher glasses.

I deflate a little. I did call her for help after I escaped Alex, and she was there for me. “You’re under a covered pergola, Rochelle.” I glare at her obnoxious sunglasses.

“UV rays, honey. You’d do good to think about that.” She takes her seat again and lounges dramatically, downing a healthy sip of her drink. “You’re not going to be young forever.”

“Unless you feed me some of your immortal blood.” I smile brightly.

Rochelle looks at my mother. “She’s so your daughter, Vee.”

Vanessa only sighs, as if raising me (something my nanny did more so than her) was such a burden. “You should be taking this seriously, Blakely.”

I press my lips together, gaze pinning her with severity. “And whatisthis, Mother?”

She sets her champagne flute down on the marble accent table and removes her glasses. Her eyes are a mirror reflection of my own, a sight that stills my blood. “I told you your little hobby…job…whatever you want to call it—” she waves her hand dismissively “—would someday get you in trouble. Now a man is dead, and like a nitwit, you think you can just walk into a police station and hand yourself over.” She exhales an exasperated breath and palms her cheeks, as if the strain from her speech stretched her chemically-peeled skin. “Honestly, Blakely. What are you thinking?”

The pavers beneath my boots fall away, the shift in gravity throwing me off balance. My gaze swings to Rochelle with an accusatory stare.

She shakes her head. “Don’t look at me. I’m far too self-involved to keep tabs on you, sweetie.”

I nod and lick my lips, the lingering taste of my night spent with Alex hitting me with bitter resentment.

Shoot me up with Ketamine and abduct me.Fine. Lock me in a basement in the middle of the wilderness and do mind-altering experiments on me.Fine. Make love to me and make me feel like I’m losing my sanity.Fine.

But sic Vanessa on me like a spineless snake to do your dirty work…

Not fine.

I glance through the glass railing and into the penthouse, trying to track his movements. Having Alex in my family’s home is disconcerting. I don’t spot him, and I wonder if he’s perched on a balcony with a creepy pair of binoculars and listening device. Or maybe he’s spying on me with a drone.

Which are suspicions that should be ridiculous, unless you’ve become the object of obsession for Dr. Alex Chambers. He knew exactly where I was this morning. He knew exactly what I was about to do. Which means…

I pull my phone out from my back pocket and drop it to the pavers, then smash the heel of my boot into the screen.

My mother glances at the destroyed device before she looks at me with a disapproving frown. “I see your temper hasn’t improved.”

I stare down at the shattered phone. He “made love” to me in his bed. He made me believe it was possible for me to love him. Ihurtthis morning when I struggled with the choice to turn myself over.

And at some point during the night, he installed spyware on my phone. Everything he professed last night was bullshit. There can never be any trust between us. His only concern was preventing me from entering the police station, so he involved my mother.

An act of evil in and of itself.

I cross my arms and glance between the two conspiring women on the terrace. I could deny everything. I could claim Ericson’s death was an accident or self-defense. But for some reason, the relief I feel at having someone else know my secret strips a layer of guilt away, even if those persons are my mother and the most narcissistic client on my roster.

“How did you find out?” I ask Vanessa.

My mother purses her lips. “I got a call from your lawyer,” she explains. “Josh Vanson. He called me and explained your circumstance, and said it was time for an intervention before you made a very bad decision. Thank God I got to you in time.”

Anger sears my nerves. Alex plundered through my bag. He found Vanson’s business card. Not only did he lie to my mother about who he is to manipulate her, but he’s also made her an accomplice. She’s aiding and abetting a murderer.

I can’t let him hurt my family.

“I’m surprised he didn’t tell you he was my lover,” I say, shaking my head. “He’s not a lawyer. He’s a delusional stalker. You need to get him out of your house.”

My mother’s heavily mascara’d eyelashes brighten wide. “Lover? Are you dating? How serious?”

Of course, that’s what she hears. I give Rochelle a pleading look. “Help me.”

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