by Nora Roberts
“For Christ’s sake, Sybill, we’re talking about a little boy here, not your views on sibling rivalry.”
“I was afraid to get attached,” she snapped out. “The one time I did, she took him away. He was her child, not mine. There was nothing I could do about it. I asked her to let me help, but she wouldn’t. She’s been raising him all alone. My parents have disinherited her. My mother won’t even acknowledge that she has a grandson. I know Gloria has problems, but it can’t be easy for her.”
He simply stared at her. “Are you serious?”
“She’s had no one to depend on,” Sybill began, then closed her eyes again as a knock sounded on the door. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can eat.”
“Yes, you can.”
Phillip opened the door for the room service waiter, directed him to set the tray on the table in front of the sofa. He dispatched him quickly, with cash and a generous tip.
“Try the soup,” he ordered. “You need something in your system or the medication’s going to end up making you nauseous. My mother was a doctor, remember.”
“All right.” She spooned it up slowly, telling herself it was just more medicine. “Thank you. I’m sure you’re not in the mood to be kind.”
“It’s harder for me to kick you when you’re down. Eat up, Sybill, and we’ll go a round or two.”
She sighed. The leading edge of the headache was dulling. She could handle it now, she thought. And him as well. “I hope you’ll at least attempt to understand my point of view on this. Gloria called me a few weeks ago. She was desperate, terrified. She told me she’d lost Seth.”
“Lost him?” Phillip let out a short, sarcastic laugh. “Oh, that’s rich.”
“I thought abduction at first, but I was able to get some of the details out of her. She explained that your family had him, had taken him from her. She was almost hysterical, so afraid she’d never get him back. She didn’t have the money to pay her lawyer. She was fighting an entire family, an entire system all alone. I wired her the money for the lawyer, and I told her I’d help. That she should wait until I contacted her.”
As her system began to settle again, she reached for one of the rolls in the basket beside her bowl and broke it open. “I decided to come and see the situation for myself. I know Gloria doesn’t always tell the entire truth, that she can slant things to suit her position. But the fact remains that your family had Seth and she didn’t.”
“Thank God for that.”
She stared at the bread in her hand, wondered if she could manage to put it in her mouth and chew. “I know you’re providing him with a good home, but she’s his mother, Phillip. She has a right to keep her own son.”
He watched her face carefully, measured the tone of her voice. He didn’t know whether to be furious or baffled by both. “You actually believe that, don’t you?”
Color was seeping back into her cheeks. Her eyes had cleared and now met his steadily. “What do you mean?”
“You believe that my family took Seth, that we took advantage of some poor single mother down on her luck and snatched the kid, that she wants him back. That she even has a lawyer working on custody.”
“You do have him,” Sybill pointed out.
“That’s right. And he’s exactly where he belongs and is going to stay. Let me give you some facts. She blackmailed my father, and she sold Seth to him.”
“I know you believe that, but—”
“I said facts, Sybill. Less than a year ago, Seth was living in a set of filthy rooms on the Block in Baltimore, and your sister was on the stroll.”
“On the stroll?”
“God, where do you come from? She was hooking. This isn’t a whore with a heart of gold here, this isn’t a desperate, down-on-her-luck unwed mother doing anything she has to to survive and keep her child fed. She was keeping her habit fed.”
She only shook her head, slowly, side to side, even as part of her mind accepted everything he said. “You can’t know all this.”
“Yes, I can know it. Because I live with Seth. I’ve talked with him, I’ve listened to him.”
Her hands went icy. She lifted the pot of tea to warm them, poured some slowly into a cup. “He’s just a boy. He could have misunderstood.”
“Sure. I bet that’s it. He just misunderstood when she brought a john up to the place, when she got so stoned she sprawled on the floor and he wondered if she was dead. He just misunderstood when she beat the hell out of him when she was feeling testy.”
“She hit him.” The cup rattled into the saucer. “She hit him?”
“She beat him. No controversial yet civilized spanking, Dr. Griffin. Fists, belts, the back of the hand. Have you ever had a fist in the face?” He held his up to hers. “Figure it out. Proportionately, this would be about right, comparing a grown woman’s fist to, say, a five-, six-year-old boy. Put liquor and drugs into that fist and it comes faster and harder. I’ve been there.”
He angled his fist away, studied it. “My mother preferred smack—to the uninitiated that’s heroin. If she missed her fix, you learned to stay far out of her way. I know just what it is to have a vicious, fucked-up female take her fists to me.” His gaze whipped back to Sybill’s. “Your sister won’t ever have the chance to use them on Seth again.”
“I—she needs to go into therapy. I never . . . He was fine when I saw him. If I’d known she was abusing him—”
“I haven’t finished. He’s a good-looking kid, isn’t he? Some of Gloria’s clients thought so.”
The color that had come back to her cheeks fell away. “No.” Shaking her head, she pushed away from him and staggered to her feet. “No, I don’t believe that. That’s hideous. That’s impossible.”
“She didn’t do anything to stop it.” He ignored the pale cheeks and fragility now and pushed. Hard. “She didn’t do a goddamn thing to protect him. Seth was on his own there. He fought them off or hid. Sooner or later, there would have been one he couldn’t fight off or hide from.”
“That’s not possible. She couldn’t.”
“She could—especially if it earned her a few extra bucks. It took months with us before he could stand to be touched in even the most casual way. He has nightmares still. And if you say his mother’s name, it makes you sick to see the fear that comes into his eyes. That’s your situation, Dr. Griffin.”
“God. How can you expect me to accept all that? To believe she’s capable of that?” She pressed a hand to her heart. “I grew up with her. I’ve known you less than a week, and you expect me to accept this horror story, this vileness as fact?”
“I think you believe it,” he said after a moment. “I think, under it all, you’re smart enough, and let’s say observant enough to know the truth.”
She was terrified. “If it is the truth, why didn’t the authorities do anything? Why wasn’t he helped?”
“Sybill, have you lived on that smooth plateau so long that you really don’t know what life’s like on the street? How many Seths there are out there? The system works some of the time, for the few and the lucky. It didn’t work for me. It didn’t work for Seth. Ray and Stella Quinn worked for me. And just under a year ago, my father paid your sister the first installment on a ten-year-old boy. He brought Seth home, he gave him a life, a decent one.”
“She said—she said he took Seth.”
“Yeah, he took him. Ten thousand the first time, a couple of other payments of about the same. Then last March she wrote him a letter demanding a lump-sum payment. A hundred fifty thousand, cash, and she’d walk away.”
“A hundred and—” Appalled, she broke off, struggled to concentrate on verifiable facts. “She wrote a letter?”
“I’ve read it. It was in the car with my father when he was killed. He was on his way back from Baltimore. He’d cleaned out most of his bank accounts. I’d have to guess she’s gone through a
big chunk of it by now. She wrote us, demanding more money, just a few months ago.”
She turned away, walked quickly to the terrace doors, and flung them open. The need for air was urgent, and she gulped it in like water. “I’m supposed to accept that Gloria has done all of this, and her primary motive is money?”
“You sent her money for her lawyer. What’s his name? Why hasn’t our lawyer been contacted by him?”
She squeezed her eyes shut. It wouldn’t help to feel betrayed, she reminded herself. “She evaded the question when I asked her. Obviously, she doesn’t have a lawyer, and it’s doubtful she ever intended to consult one.”
“Well, you’re slow”—the sarcasm rang clearly—“but you do catch on.”
“I wanted to believe her. We were never close as children, and that has to be as much my fault as hers. I’d hoped I could help her, and Seth. I thought this was the way.”
“So, she played you.”
“I felt responsible. My mother is so unbending on this. She’s angry that I came here. She has refused to acknowledge Gloria since she ran off at eighteen. Gloria claimed to have been molested by the counselor at our school. She was always claiming to have been molested. They had a terrible row, my mother and she, and Gloria was gone the next day. She’d taken some of my mother’s jewelry, my father’s coin collection, some cash. I didn’t hear from her for nearly five years. Those five years were a relief.
“She hated me,” Sybill said quietly and continued to stare out at the lights on the water. “Always, as long as I can remember. It didn’t matter what I did, whether I fought with her or stepped back and let her have her way, she detested me. It was easier for me to keep my distance. I didn’t hate her, I simply felt nothing. And when I brush everything else aside right now, it’s exactly the same. I can’t feel anything for her. It must be a flaw,” she murmured. “Maybe it’s genetic.”
With a weak smile, she turned around again. “It might make an interesting study one day.”
“You never had a clue, did you, of what she was doing?”
“No. So much for my renowned observational skills. I’m sorry, Phillip. I’m so terribly sorry for what I’ve done, and haven’t done. I promise you I didn’t come here to harm Seth. And I give you my word I’ll do whatever I can to help. If I can go into Social Services in the morning, speak with Anna, your family. If you’ll allow it, I’d like to see Seth, try to explain.”
“We won’t be taking him to Anna’s office. We’re not letting Gloria near him.”
“She won’t be there.”
His eyes flickered. “I beg your pardon?”
“I don’t know where she is.” Defeated, she spread her hands. “I promised I’d bring her. I meant to.”
“You just let her walk? Goddamn it.”
“I didn’t—not intentionally.” She sank down onto the sofa again. “I took her to a restaurant. I wanted to get her a meal, talk to her. She was agitated and drinking too much. I was annoyed with her. I told her we were going to straighten everything out, that we were going to have a meeting in the morning. I made ultimatums. I should have known better. She didn’t like it, but I didn’t see what she could do about it.”
“What sort of ultimatums?”
“That she would get counseling, go into rehab. That she would get help, get herself straightened out before she tried to gain custody of Seth. She went to the ladies’ room, and when she didn’t come back out, I went in looking for her.”
She lifted her hands, let them fall uselessly. “I found my wallet. She must have taken it out of my purse. She left me my credit cards,” she added with a wry smile. “She’d know I would cancel them straight off. She only took the cash. It’s not the first time she’s stolen from me, but it always surprises me.” She sighed, shrugged it off. “I drove around for nearly two hours, hoping I’d find her. But I didn’t, and I don’t know where she is. I don’t know what she intends to do.”
“She messed you over pretty good, didn’t she?”
“I’m an adult. I can take care of myself, and I’m responsible for myself. But Seth . . . if even a part of what you’ve told me is true . . . he’ll hate me. I understand that and I’ll have to accept it. I’d like the chance to talk to him.”
“That’ll be up to him.”
“Fair enough. I need to see the files, the paperwork.” She linked her fingers together. “I realize you can require me to get a court order, but I’d like to avoid that. I’d process this better if I had it all in black and white.”
“It’s not as simple as black and white when you’re dealing with people’s lives and feelings.”
“Maybe not. But I need facts, documentation, reports. Once I have them, if I’m persuaded that Seth’s best interest is to remain with your family, through legal guardianship or adoption, I’ll do whatever I can to help that happen.”
She had to push now, she told herself. She had to push to make him give her another chance. Just one more chance. “I’m a psychologist, and I’m the birth mother’s sister. I’d think my opinion would bear weight in court.”
He studied her objectively. Details, he thought. He was the man who handled the details, after all. Those she was adding would only help settle everything the way he wanted it settled. “I imagine it would, and I’ll discuss it with my family. But I don’t think you get it, Sybill. She isn’t going to fight for Seth. She’s never intended to fight for him. She’s just trying to use him to get more money. She’s not going to get that, either, not another dime.”
“So I’m superfluous.”
“Maybe. I haven’t decided.” He rose, jingling the change in his pockets as he paced. “How are you feeling?”
“Better. Fine. Thank you. I’m sorry to have fallen apart like that, but the migraine was a full-blown one.”
“You get them often?”
“A few times a year. I’m usually able to get to the medication at onset, so they’re not too bad. When I left this evening I was distracted.”
“Yeah, bailing your sister out of jail would be a distraction.” He glanced back at her with mild curiosity. “How much did it take to spring her?”
“Bail was set at five thousand.”
“Well, I’d say you can kiss that good-bye.”
“Most likely. The money isn’t important.”
“What is?” He stopped, turned toward her. She looked exhausted and disconcertingly fragile still. An unfair advantage was still an advantage, he decided, and pressed. “What is important to you, Sybill?”
“Finishing what I’ve started. You may not need my help, but I don’t intend to walk away until I’ve done what I can.”
“If Seth doesn’t want to see you or speak to you, he won’t. That’s bottom line. He’s had enough.”
She straightened her shoulders before they could slump. “Regardless of whether he agrees to see or speak with me, I intend to stay until the legalities are settled. You can’t force me to leave, Phillip. You can make it difficult for me, uncomfortable, but you can’t make me leave until I’m satisfied.”
“Yeah, I can make it difficult for you. I can make it damn near impossible for you. And I’m considering just that.” He leaned over, ignoring her instinctive jerk, and caught her chin firmly in his hand. “Would you have slept with me?”
“Under the circumstances, I believe that’s moot.”
“Not to me it isn’t. Answer the question.”
She kept her eyes level with his. That was a matter of pride, though she felt she had little of that or her dignity left intact. “Yes.” When his eyes flared, she jerked her chin away. “But not because of Seth or Gloria. I would have slept with you because I wanted you. Because I was attracted to you and when I was around you for any length of time my priorities became blurred.”
“Your priorities became blurred.” He rocked back on his heels, dipped his hands into
his pockets. “Jesus, you’re a case. Why do I find that snotty attitude intriguing?”
“I don’t have a snotty attitude. You asked a question, I answered it honestly. And, you’ll note, in the past tense.”
“Now I’ve got something else to consider. If I want to change that to present tense. Don’t say it’s moot, Sybill,” he warned when she opened her mouth. “I’m bound to take that as a dare. If we end up in bed tonight, neither one of us is going to like ourselves in the morning.”
“I don’t like you very much right now.”
“We’re on the same curve there, honey.” He jingled his change again, then shrugged. “We’ll keep the meeting at Anna’s office in the morning. As far as I’m concerned, you can see all the paperwork, including your sister’s blackmail letters. As far as Seth goes, I don’t make any promises. If you try to go around me and my family to get to him, you’ll regret it.”
“Don’t threaten me.”
“I’m not. I’m giving you facts. It’s your family who likes threats.” His smile was sharp, dangerous, and without an ounce of humor. “The Quinns make promises, and they keep them.”
“I’m not Gloria.”
“No, but we still have to see just who you are. Nine o’clock,” he added. “Oh, and Dr. Griffin, you may want to look over your own notes again. When you do it might be interesting, psychologically speaking, to ask yourself why you find it so much more rewarding to observe than to participate. Get some sleep,” he suggested as he walked to the door. “You’re going to want to be sharp tomorrow.”
“Phillip.” Going with the impulse of temper, she rose and waited for him to turn around, with the door open at his back. “Isn’t it fortunate that circumstances changed before we made the mistake of sex?”
He angled his head, both impressed and amused that she’d dared such a dangerous parting shot. “Darling, I’m counting my blessings.”