In the living room, she picked up Gideon’s cell phone, only to stare at it for several moments, wondering if she was doing the right thing. Was it possible for her father to trace the call to Gideon’s lair? She wasn’t up to speed on all the latest achievements in modern technology.
She hesitated for a few more minutes, debating the wisdom of contacting anyone in the pack, then punched in her aunt’s number.
Smart move or not, she had to get in touch with her mother.
The sun was slipping over the horizon when Gideon woke to the muffled sound of crying. He pulled on a pair of sweats. A moment later he was in the living room. He found Kay curled up in a corner of the sofa, her eyes red rimmed, her cheeks soaked with her tears.
She looked at him through haunted eyes for a moment; then, amid a flood of fresh tears, sobbed, “She’s … dead. My mother’s dead.”
“Dammit.” Moving swiftly across the room, Gideon swept Kay into his arms and held her tight.
“It’s … it’s all … all my fault!”
“Shh.”
“She said she would provide a distraction so I could get away and … and she killed herself, Gideon! She committed suicide … hanged herself … so I could be free. So I could be with you.”
Gideon stroked Kay’s hair while he tried to think of something to say that would comfort her, but at the moment, words failed him. He hadn’t known Kay’s mother well, had seen her only a few times, spoken to her only once or twice, yet because Kay loved him, Dorothy Alissano had gone against her husband’s wishes and set him free, had sacrificed her own life so her daughter could be with the man she loved. He had rarely seen that kind of courage and devotion.
“The funeral’s on Saturday,” Kay said, sniffling. Had her father purposely arranged it then, knowing the moon would be full? Her mother would have hated that.
Gideon nodded. His immediate inclination was to tell Kay she couldn’t go, but it wasn’t his decision to make.
“You think I should stay here, don’t you?”
“Are you reading my mind now?”
“No, just your silence.”
“I think it’s a big risk. Victor’s bound to be there, too.”
“I know it’s dangerous, but I have to go.”
“Kiya, your mother died so you could get out of there. How can you even think of going back?”
“I have to see her one last time. I have to tell her good-bye. I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t.” She stroked his cheek with her fingertips. “The moon will be full. The pack will run that night. I’ll slip away and find you like I did before.”
“Yeah,” Gideon muttered dryly. “I remember how well that turned out.”
“Well, we won’t be distracted this time.”
“Is that what I am to you?” he asked, his voice suddenly husky. “A distraction?”
“Yes, but only in a good way. Oh, Gideon,” she sobbed. “I’m going to miss her so! And the funny thing is, we were never that close,” she said, sniffling. “I always envied the kind of mother-daughter relationship that Wanda has with her mom. They share everything, spend time together, gossip, go shopping. My mother and I never did anything like that. I hardly ever told her that I loved her, and now it’s too late.” She looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. “Forever too late.”
Murmuring her name, Gideon wrapped Kay in his arms again. At times like this, words were useless. He just hoped his being with her was enough.
Kay slept late the next day, and woke feeling as if she hadn’t slept at all. Her eyes were swollen and gritty, her throat hurt from all the tears she’d shed. She glanced at Gideon, sleeping beside her, loosed a soul-deep sigh. Life had been a lot less complicated before she met him, but looking at him now, she didn’t know what she would do without him.
Or how she was going to live with her guilt.
Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she stared at the floor. If she hadn’t fallen in love with Gideon, her mother would still be alive. She blinked as tears stung her eyes. She told herself she wasn’t entirely to blame, that her mother had been unhappy for years, but it didn’t help. Her mother was dead and it was all her fault. And even though Gideon didn’t want her to attend the funeral, Kay knew she would never forgive herself if she didn’t go.
Once the decision was made, she felt a little better. She couldn’t change the past, but fear of the future would not keep her from telling her mother good-bye.
Hunger drove her out of the apartment. Emotionally, she didn’t feel like eating, but the wolf inside demanded nourishment. She was always ravenous before the full moon. She had asked her father once why that was, and he’d told her it was because it required an amazing amount of physical energy and stamina to shift from human to wolf and back again.