Elizabeth stared down at the dark spot for a moment before jerking her hand away and pushing the sleeve back down, covering it. “He’s my husband.”
It was all she said. I expected more, an explanation. But she didn’t give it. Instead she turned her haunted gaze back to Michael.
Julia stayed crouched there for several moments before standing. She didn’t say anything as she headed for the door. I followed her.
“Go over this place ten times before you call everyone off, and make sure anything taken out of place is put back just the way it was when we came in,” I said to Randy as I passed him.
“All right, man. But I’m pretty certain this is a dead end. This house isn’t all that big.”
I nodded, letting that news sink in. This is a dead end. What would we do from here? It was too good to be true. To find Kevin, find the answers we needed, and put everything to rest. But nothing was put to rest. If anything, the situation even more fucked up than it was this morning. And I thought this venture would finally give us some answers.
FOURTEEN
Julia.
“What would you like, ma’am?” I blinked my heavy eyes as I looked up at the waiter in front of me. He wore a button-up shirt that said Callan’s on the left breast. I glanced at Cole across from me. “I’ll just have whatever he’s getting.”
I didn’t care to search the menu and order something fancy at the nice restaurant Cole had brought me to. I was emotionally drained from the ordeal at Kevin’s dad’s house, which we’d left some thirty minutes ago. After I’d walked outside, Cole had been hot on my heels, following me out and helping me into the limo.
I was fine with it. In fact, I couldn’t wait to get the fuck away from there. I’d had enough, seen enough. It had been so difficult to tell the story of my past; I hated looking weak in front of anyone, especially him. After all the things that had transpired between us, after him calling me a whore earlier that morning, I just didn’t want him to know the truth about how pathetic I had once been. But it was important that he knew.
To see the twisted relationship Elizabeth and Michael shared, where she loved him in spite of the horrible things he did to her, took me back to those placed I’d left in my past. It took me back to the pain, the love I hadn’t wanted to let go of. It gutted me.
“Are you okay?”
I glanced up at Cole, sitting across from me, surprised to see the waiter had already left. “I…” I didn’t know what to say to that. Was I okay? “No.” I answered myself and Cole all at once. “I’m not. I’ve had the worst month of my life. Not even the shitty moments I told you about before could compare with the way things have been this last month.” Tears pressed at the backs of my eyelids and I felt weak. Pathetic. “And Mrs. Malone—” I couldn’t even finish my sentence. I didn’t know what I wanted to say about her.
“Shhh.” Cole reached out grabbed my hands in his. They were clean now. He had washed Michael’s blood from them; it was as if it had never been there. His movement rocked the little glass centerpiece that held water and a single, floating flower. The liquid sloshed back and forth and almost spilled on the tablecloth. “It isn’t your fault she didn’t want your help. You can’t help that. Some people are too far gone.”
“I used to be that person, Cole.” I blinked hard, trying to stave off the tears. “I used to be that girl who loved so hard it almost killed me.” I shook my head and snatched my hands out of his. “I’m still that stupid girl.”
His gaze softened. “Julia, I—” But I didn’t hear anything else he said. My full attention focused on the people who had just walked into the restaurant. Where Cole and I were seated, I had a perfect view of the front door. It was a family that came in. A man, two little girls, and a woman. A woman I knew. She had short, white blond hair that was cut in a swing bob-style. A black dress fit tightly to her slim, tanned body.
“There’s four of us,” she said, smiling at the hostess. The sound of her voice made me jump. It was her. She was real.
My mother.
She had left so long ago when I was kid. Went for groceries one day and never came home. As if she’d never really existed. I never knew why she left, and my dad never had a good reason to give me.
“Julia, what’s the matter?” Cole’s words drew me back to the present and I glanced away from her as the hostess started to guide them toward us.
I opened my mouth to say something, but I couldn’t form the words. It had been more than fifteen years. Fifteen years since I had seen my own mother. Fifteen years since she’d walked out of my life and never looked back. I never knew what had happened to her. For most of my life I had thought she was dead. It was easier to think of her as such than to accept the truth—that she didn’t want me. But she was very much alive.
I looked down at my hands just as I heard her laugh. The sound made my head jerk up again. Her laugh was the same, it hadn’t changed a bit. I could remember when we rolled around in my bed, her tickling me while we both giggled uncontrollably. It sounded the same. It was brought on by the pinch of the man’s hand on her side as she walked in front of him.
“Julia?” Cole asked.
“Hush!” I whispered intently at Cole. He frowned and glanced over his shoulder.
They came closer and I realized the hostess was going to lead them right past our table. Panic bubbled up inside me along with fury. It blasted through me like storm. This was where she had been? She had been in New York state—doing what exactly? What was so much better about this place than home, than her husband, than her own mother? What made this place better than her own daughter? What was it?
I’d asked myself those questions a lot right after she left, but then I had closed them off and pushed them away, knowing I would never have answers. But it looked like tonight was the night. Tonight, after fifteen years, I would have my answers. I kept my gaze glued on her as she moved closer with utter fluidity. The smile on her face was easy-going and carefree.
“Oooh, pretty hairs!” The squeak of a voice had me glancing away from my mom. I immediately came face to face with a little girl. I had noticed her when they came in, but I’d been so focused on my mother that I hadn’t thought much about her or the other little girl. But now, as I stared into dark eyes with white blond hair framing a heart-shaped face, the same as my natural color, the same color as my mother’s, the truth set in. It burned my skin as it baptized me in its burning waters. This little girl, who couldn’t have been older than six, was my sister.
“Sissy, mommy, look! Look how pretty!” She reached out and grabbed a lock of my aqua blue hair, which cascaded down over my shoulders. “It’s so blue.”
Another little girl, who looked to be maybe a year or two older than her stepped up next to the first one and smiled at me. Her hair was a little longer, but the same color as her sister’s. “It is pretty.”
“Oh, girls. Leave that poor lady alone. She’s trying to enjoy her dinner. Not be hounded by y’all!” The little bit of twang in her accent made my heart ache with a new kind of hurt. It took everything in me to smile at the two children before me instead of bursting into tears.
These two little people were related to me. There was no denying it, their likeness to one another, to her. To me. Two little people I didn’t even know existed. It was suddenly hard to breathe and I had to suck in a big gulp of air. Neither of the girls noticed. They both smiled back happily. It was the kind of smile that lit up their entire faces, leaving me even more breathless than the moment before.
It rattled something inside me, causing rage to bubble up. That rage demanded the answers I had wanted all my life—those little smiles squashed it. They didn’t make it go away. I suspected it never would, but it helped me accept it.
What would happen if I did confront her here in the restaurant in front of her new family? Just thinking it made my heart ache. But I knew the answer. It would be appalling to the little girls standing in front of me, so innocently. It would rock their world. They woul
d remember it forever. What would the new man in her life say? Would me showing up incite her to run again? Would she leave this family behind like she left mine?
Even if she didn’t run away, even if for some miracle reason she welcomed me into her life, where would that leave all of us? What if the person who was after me found out about these two little girls? Would it be their blood smeared on a wall next?
I couldn’t handle that thought. The idea these two girls—my sisters—could be hurt, tore at me. They were as innocent as I once was. They were free of guilt. They were undamaged. And I refused to be a part of the reason their innocence and happiness disappeared. Because it seemed no matter how I entered their life, I would bring some sort of doom upon them.
“Thank you,” I said quietly as their mother—my mother—came up and patted their shoulders. Her nails were manicured, the ends perfectly round and white, as if she had just gotten them done today.
“So sorry,” she said. But I didn’t look up at her. I kept my gaze on the girls.
“It’s no problem,” Cole said across from me, reminding me he was still there. I looked over at him. His face was filled with worry, his chiseled jaw tense. “Ju—”
“I need to get out of here.” The words rushed out of my mouth. “Now.”
He glanced at the retreating back of my mother and then at me. “Okay.” He stood up and offered me his hand. I took it gratefully as my legs were wobbly. I let him lead me out of the restaurant and away from my mom, away from the sisters I would never know.
I looked back in the window as we stepped outside. It was dark now and a chilled breezed rippled across my skin.
“Who were those people?” he asked.
My gaze focused on them. They were all flipping through their menus, smiling. They were living a life I never had, at least not for long. I couldn’t remember the last time I had gone out to dinner with my mom and dad. I couldn’t remember when we had all smiled happily, thankful to be together. I would never have those times. But she got to have them now with her new family. Bitterness swept through me before I reminded myself of the girls. They would have this. And that made it all okay. Even if they never knew it, I was able to give them something no one could ever give me.
“No one.” I glanced up at Cole. He peered down at me, concern in his eyes. “Strangers.” And that was the truth.
FIFTEEN
Julia.
“You’re lying to me,” Cole said as we rode in the limo, our destination unknown to myself, but of course I no longer cared. “And I’m not sure why.” I was sitting next to Cole, tucked into his side, the warmth of him seeping into me through his suit and my dress. Part of me wanted to push him away, to hate him for being such an asshole all the time, but I just didn’t have the strength right now.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter.” He leaned away from me and tilted my chin up so I was looking at him. His gaze implored me, demanding an answer. I chewed my lip. Tears still pressed at the backs of my eyes. The same ones I’d been fighting all day. “She’s my mother,” I blurted out, the words sounding scratchy against my throat. “The woman in the restaurant, with the little girls.”
“What?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “I figured you knew where she was.” An idea popped into my head. “You stalked me, so I’m sure you had her looked into. Hell, you probably knew she was going to be there tonight, didn’t you?” I scooted away from him, letting those thoughts roll around in my head.
“No.” He shook his head, but didn’t elaborate.
I snorted. “Right. Of course.” A single tear spilled over my cheek and I swiped it away angrily. “Why me? Why am I the one who gets the shitty end of everything?”
“It’s not—”
“My own mother leaves me and starts a new family. My dad kicks me out. My boyfriend beats me.” I held up a finger for each one. “The guy I was falling for is my stalker. Someone cuts my throat.” I jab at my neck. “Mandi is killed.” I shook my head. “And then everything today, Kevin’s parents.” My voice trembled, the image of Elizabeth unwavering in my head as she fought Cole’s men to get to her husband, the man who beat her and cheated on her. It was sickening, a replay of my own past that terrified me. “And now this,” I added, referring to my mom. “What’s next, Cole? Are you a murderer, too?” A burst of laughter escaped my lips as the answer to that question popped into my head. “Of course, you are a murderer. The icing on the cake, right? My stalker is also a convicted murderer. Fucking fantastic!” I kissed my fingertips and threw my hand into the air.
I expected Cole to deny the things I said about him, or to at least defend himself, but he didn’t. He just sat and stared at me, a myriad of emotions behind his eyes. “Things will get better.”
“Get better? Get better?” I shouted, the anger pouring from me as if it was being ripped from my skin. “It’s not going to get better. You know how I know, Cole? Because it only keeps getting worse! Just when I think everything will be okay, it just gets worse. Don’t you see that?” The tears came faster now, dripping down my face.
“Come here.” He reached for me, but I slid farther away so he couldn’t touch me. He flinched as if I had slapped him. But I didn’t care. I didn’t fucking care anymore. He was the one who’d dragged me to this city. He was the one who’d claimed he loved me and then turned around and called me a whore. He didn’t deserve to hold me. To have me. Not anymore.
“Don’t touch me.” I squeezed my hands together over and over in my lap, desperately trying to grasp onto something, onto some form of hope, but there was none. I didn’t have anything to cling to. Not anymore. Everything had been taken from me.
“Let’s talk about this.”
“I’m done talking to you,” I hissed. “I tried yesterday, but you wouldn’t listen and now I’m done.”
“You can’t just be done.”
“Fuck you! I can do whatever I want. I don’t need your permission or your blessing.” I crossed my arms. “And I want out.” I glanced at the door. “I want to get out, now.” I scrambled forward and banged on the partition. “Pull over!”
“No, Julia. We aren’t there yet.”
“I don’t care where we are. I want out!” My mom’s image floated in my head. Her skin was tanned, she was in better shape than when she’d left. She looked perfect, not like a woman who had left her daughter behind. “Please just stop the car!” I wailed as I banged harder. Strong arms wrapped around me gently, and I didn’t fight them. I let Cole pull me into his chest. I knew later I would look back and be angry at myself for this, for not pushing him away, but right now I didn’t care. The tears streamed down my face in scorching rivulets. I fisted my hands in the material of his jacket, the fabric giving me some semblance of stability.
Uncontrollable sobs wracked my body as I gasped for air. I closed my eyes against his chest, but all I could see were her hands. Those perfect manicured hands. Hands that looked younger than mine. Hands that used to hold me. Hands that used to love me. Not anymore.
Something was pressed to my ear and I jumped when I heard the familiar ring of a phone. I was about to push it off me when Gran answered on the other end. Her voice instantly calmed me and I sat up. She was just the person I needed to talk to, the one who would understand. My dad couldn’t. He was a lost cause when it came to my mom. He hadn’t spoken a single word about her since the day she had left. It was as if she’d never existed.
But Gran understood my hurt. After all, my mother, Amanda, was her daughter.
Cole eyed me for a moment before opening the door to the limo and climbing out. Apparently we had come to a stop at some point during my crying.
“Gran?”
“Hey there, baby girl. I didn’t expect to hear from you so late. You okay?”
The fact she knew it was me right away lifted my spirits a little bit. I planned to ease into it, to tell her softly, but hearing her voice was too much. “I’m not okay. I’m so far from okay,” I
wailed. “I saw my mom tonight. I saw her, Gran, in the flesh. She’s—” And the words just tumbled out. I told her everything about the way she looked, every detail about the girls, about her fingernails. I didn’t stop talking until it was in the air, in space, wherever the hell a phone signal took my words. I expected her to cry, too. To be disappointed, shocked, a little lost like me. But she wasn’t.
“I know, baby girl. I know where she is.”
Her words stunned me, making my heart plummet in my chest. “What do you mean, you know?”
“She sent me a few letters over the years. She—”
“What did they say?” I croaked, panic bubbling up inside me. What if she had asked about me? What if she had wanted to see me, but Gran had never told me? That possibility left me feeling cold.
“You don’t want to know.”
“I don’t want to know? How could you have kept this from me? I need to know, Gran!”
She sighed on the other end and I knew she was exhaling smoke from her cigarette. Instantly I could smell it, that scent that was purely hers. Flowers and smoke. The scent of my childhood. I could imagine what she looked like, laying in bed, her oxygen plugged into her nose, her hand trembling as she held her cigarette. “She wrote to tell me about her new life. About how it was so much better without me, and you, and Arthur. She wrote mean things, Julia. Things you didn’t need to know.”
“Did she ever say why she left?” It was the one question I wanted the answer to the most, but I had never asked.
“She’s a bitch, Julia. A selfish bitch. You know that.”
An ugly laugh emerged from between my lips. “I know that. But did she say…”
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