Page 65 of The Jester and His Outlaw: Part 2

Riggs shifts in his seat, inhaling as he wipes his palm against his jeans. He gets a little nervous each time he has to answer, but always schools his features before it gets out of hand. “I am a full-time student at UB. I’m there on a scholarship, and I think I’m going to study design. Outside of that, I work as much as I can at a bookstore in town. Soon, I will do design work for Jensen Tucker.”

When he drops the Tucker name, my parents perk up.Pathetic.

“And what do your parents do for work?” That one causes me to flinch, but Riggs doesn’t falter. I reach over and take his hand in mine. Mom notices the contact, her eyes flicking to meet mine.

“My parents passed away when I was little.” Riggs’ response is mechanical.

“Oh, son, my apologies,” Dad says, a pitying frown forming. Riggs waves him away, but I can see the hurt in his eyes. I squeeze his hand to reassure him I’m here. He had to know that it was likely going to be this way when he offered to come.

“No, sir, it’s okay. You don’t know until you ask.”

Mom’s jaw falls slack, but before she can ask anything else, I cut her off. “We came here today to tell you I am moving in with him.”

Rip that motherfucking bandage off.

As expected, my mother gasps, slapping her hand to her chest as if the idea horrifies her. Which I imagined it does. “What?”

“Charley,” Dad starts. “Is this appropriate in the middle of the semester? You don’t need to worry about paying bills while going to school.” Dad is cool, his breathing even and calm, but my mother is practically vibrating in her seat.

“Dad, I’m not worried in the slightest about paying bills. I don’t even have to work and I have enough money coming in.” My voice is flat as I try to keep my annoyance in check. I want to tell them exactly what I’m feeling. That I’m not protected in their home, under their care, when a psychopath is out there. I have to have guards on me at all times and they haven’t once agreed with me that Jonas is crazy or tried to go to the police. Yeah, he may not have openly attacked me like Layla and Aaron, but he had to have orchestrated it.

“Money that you should spend on your future. Live here rent free and save,” he suggests. While he has a good point, I’m not hearing any of it.

“I didn’t come here to discuss it. I came here to tell you I’m moving out.”

My father’s jaw clenches and his nostrils flare. They are aware there is absolutely nothing they can do over this. I don’t need their help with school, housing, or cars. For the longest time, I was never sure why my grandmother was so good to me and my brother. Why did she give us money that my parents couldn’t access and had no control over?

However, instead of sadness on my mother’s face, I see pure fear. Why would it scare her? Children move out of their parents’ houses all the time. It’s the natural cycle of life.

“Charlotte May Miller. You are not moving out. This is nonsense. I will have none of it.” My mother’s fear is quickly morphing into desperation and a touch of anger. Her pale skin is almost as red as her hair and her green-eyed gaze is piercing. I jerk my head back.

“I’m nineteen years old, Mom. I can do what I want.”

“You are my daughter…”

“And? I may be your daughter, but you don’t own me,” I say, keeping a lid on my annoyance still. She is in shock and probably frustrated because she knows as much as she tries, there is nothing she can do short of threatening me with the silent treatment or something. While that would suck and I would really miss my parents, I’ve felt alone for years. I love them, but we don’t have the connection that normally comes with parents and their children. Plus, she’ll eventually come around. Right now, she is just hurt.

Still, her odd reaction, the blatant fear, will not leave my mind for a long time. Something else is going on here. I wish they would just tell me. I want to ask them, but I can’t even bring up Jonas without them freaking out. Telling them I don’t feel safe in their house… I’m just asking for World War III.

“You are nothing but a child. You have no clue what it is like out there in the real world.” She jumps up from her seat, standing as if her stance somehow strengthens her point. It only serves to irritate me. “I will not have you living with…” She stops, showing me just how affected she really is as she fumbles to save face. I’m well aware of how she views Riggs because I can read my mother, but for her to slip and say something isn’t like her.

I tilt my head to the side, measuring the moment. Mom isn’t an outwardly judgmental person, but she dropped Mama T like their entire friendship meant nothing. My opinion of who my mother really is has changed drastically.

I want her to say how she feels about Riggs, but I also don’t because it could set him back.

I jump to my feet as Dad puts his hand on Mom’s shoulder. Inside, he’s likely as upset as she is, but he’s keeping his face even. “There is nothing you can do about it, Mom. I’m moving out and I just wanted to tell you. We are living in a building owned by Mr. Tucker.”

“The Northside?” Mom gasps again, her eyes furiously ricocheting from me to Riggs and back.

“Yes, Mom. The Northside.” I see my father’s grip on her shoulder tighten. A silent warning.

“If you insist on this, you will at least take Chandler with you and whomever he deems necessary to watch over you.” Dad is giving away nothing, but tears have collected in Mom’s eyes, shining brightly.

I won’t argue with guards. I’ll take all the protection I can get.

“So you’ll admit that there is something going on with Jonas?” I blurt before I can stop myself.

My mother sighs heavily, opening her mouth to speak, but Dad cuts her off. “Sweetheart, Jonas is a young man with a broken heart. Nothing ties him to that attack. From what I understand, Riggs was involved with that young lady. Am I right?”

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