The woman, if I can be so magnanimous as to call her that, seeing as I think she’s a monster, had given her kid up right after birth and spent the last years living a quiet but good life thanks to a shit load of money she’d gotten out of nowhere.
Huh! She’d sold her kid, it seems, and that shit has officially signed her death warrant with me.
“Look.” He sighs, watching me go through my nightly routine with an indulgent smile. “We need to get to the bottom of this, and I don’t want to leave you here. I’m still not convinced that fuck skipped over the Mexican border. Anyway, didn’t you want to go see The Tower and The Eye?”
Okay, that is true…
“Fine, but if your bitch mother so much as sneezes my way, I can’t be responsible for my actions,” I warn, putting my hair up in a loose bun.
That makes him laugh, something he’s been doing a lot of lately despite my refusal to have sex—hey, it’s hurting me too, but I don’t feel comfortable going there as yet, not when I haven’t got the answers to everything.
For all I know he’s up to his eyeballs in this stuff and is just spinning me a really long story to keep me in check.
Time will tell, I guess, but that’s also something that’s working against me, since my hormones have done things to my vagina I’m having trouble controlling.
I’m cool now, but only because talking about his mother always gives me the crabs. He’d finally opened up some and told me about his stepmother and his father, and boy am I glad I’ve never met those bastards.
According to him and a very scathing Cammy, two colder human beings were never born. They’d spent eighteen years trying to push my husband into the mold they’d made for him, and when that didn’t work they’d all but disowned him, leaving him to fend for himself.
Not that they’d taken much satisfaction out of it, because he’s richer than they are six times over and can buy and sell those creeps any day of the week.
Now I have to meet them, thanks to his brilliant idea that we all need to go over there and get some answers. And all because I can’t keep my big mouth shut about who I’d suspected had given that Barker bitch all that money in the first place.
I hope for their sakes I’m wrong and that he doesn’t connect any of them to it, because if he does, those two are dead freaking meat.
“If she says anything I’ll hold your coat while you play footie with her head. Now come on and get into bed.”
His eyes have taken on that weird, sexy, hooded look that I recognize as his sex face, something my libido is picking up on with bells and whistles ringing strong.
“Lucian, I’m not in the mood to argue with you about sex tonight.”
I say it because I know if I get on that bed and he turns my way, there won’t be much arguing. I’ll probably fold like a freaking concertina under his hands.
God, why did all of this have to happen when things were going so well?
Uh, because things were going so well, my inner harpy snarks, letting me know how cynical and unimpressed she is with me at the moment.
Yeah, yeah, I know you want to do the tango with your guy, but I need to get a grip before I give in here. Trust is not a given, ya know.
Jesus, I really need to call Mary or the girls before I get on that jet, or I can tell ya, my mind may not survive whatever the heck else happens.
Chapter Twenty Nine
London, England
Luc
The moment the huge wrought iron gates squeak open to admit the car filled with those I cherish most, I have an instant regret for thinking this is at all a good idea.
Why have I brought my family here?
What possible good do I think could come from subjecting these innocents to my parents and their icy brand of disapproval?
Well, for one, I want them to see what I have and know that nothing they did or will ever try to do will ever have the power to harm me. I want them to see the love my family has for me—hopefully Ashley will buckle soon and tell me—and covet what their black hearts can never have.
Mostly I want to see the look on Mother’s face when she sees Maddy.
It’s a shot in the bloody dark, I know, since the woman has no emotions and so rarely gives up her secrets, but if there’s even the smallest chance that she’ll react, I want to see it with my own eyes.
“It looks like a castle.”
“Yes, Benjamin, but there are most definitely no fairytales here.”
Ashley rolls her eyes at my tone and kicks my leg none too gently, her gaze telling me she doesn’t appreciate my attempt at disillusioning her little ones.
“What? Best they know that their grandparents are bloodsucking—ow! Dammit, woman, that bleeding hurt!”