Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 72765 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72765 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
* * *
It hasn’t been but a few minutes since I kissed Astaire goodbye Saturday morning when there’s a knock at the door. I shut the shower water off, slip back into my sweats, and jog to the door. I imagine she forgot something.
Or maybe she came back for one more round …
I check the peep hole to be certain—only to be met with the familiar lanky outline of Victoria Tuppance-Schoenbach.
She knocks again. “Open up, Bennett. I know you’re home. I just passed one of your conquests in the hallway. I’m not leaving until you answer.”
And she means it too.
She’s been known to set up camp for hours when necessary, having her assistants bring her lunches and magazines and phone chargers.
Steeling my resolve, I swing the door wide.
Her gaze lands immediately on my bare chest. “My God, Bennett. Have you no decency?”
“I was just about to grab a shower … you should have called.”
She steps in, pushing past me. “I’ve been calling you all week.”
My mother’s watchful gaze sweeps the space, as if she’s looking for clues or signs or evidence, though for what I’m not sure.
“I heard you were back in the hospital this week.” She turns to face me, hands clasped.
I’ve no need to ask how she heard. Knowing my brother, I imagine he had Astaire followed after he saw her leaving my place that night with my bag in tow.
“Everything all right, darling?” she asks. But before I can answer she adds, “Well, I suppose I should assume so, seeing how you didn’t think to call your dear mother and let her know you’d been admitted.”
“I’m fine. Now what can I help you with, Mother?”
“We need to discuss that child again.” Disgust colors her voice.
“That child has a name.”
“Because this is a decision that affects all of us, we need to handle this as a family. Do what’s best for the entire family.”
“I don’t see how any of this is going to affect you. She’ll be living with me. I’ll be raising her. You don’t have to do a damn thing.”
She scoffs. “You don’t think people will see the two of you around? You don’t think they’ll wonder why the child looks so much like a Schoenbach? And what if they discover she’s Larissa’s child? It won’t take a genius to piece that together.”
I shrug. “Not my problem. Maybe if you’d have raised Errol to be a little less like you and a little more like a decent human being, he wouldn’t have been screwing his sister and none of us would be in this predicament.”
I brace myself for a slap that doesn’t come, and then I realize she’s staring at my scar.
When I had my operation last year, she visited once. And once was enough for the both of us. And while things were peaceful without her flitting in and out and pretending to give a damn, it still stung to know that I mattered that little to my own mother.
“Bennett, I’ve tried to reason with you, but if you’re not going to budge on this issue, you’re leaving me with no choice.” She straightens her shoulders and lifts her pointed chin the way she does when she’s about to strong arm me. “Your brother is prepared to go to a judge to request a court-ordered paternity test, proving he’s the child’s biological father. Once that’s established, he’s prepared to fight for sole legal and physical custody—and he will win. After that, her fate will be in his hands. He can waive his parental rights and place her right back in the system, where she is now. So it’s up to you, darling. Do you want her to spend the next year of her life being bounced around and shuffled from family courtroom to family courtroom? Or do you want to do this the easy way?”
My heart hammers, blood whooshing in my ears.
Everything is red.
Then black.
Then crystal-fucking-clear.
The other night, when Errol was here begging for me to sign over custody, he skirted the Beth issue because this was his intention all along—to gain custody, only to waive his rights. With a bit of careful manipulation, he could do all of those things under her nose.
“You’re a wicked and vile excuse for a human being,” I spit the words I’ve been longing to say for as long as I can remember. “You disgust me.”
She sniffs. “I would say it takes one to know one, but that’d be giving you too much credit. You’re not wicked, Bennett. You’re weak.” Her gaze drips to my scar and back. “You were born weak. And you’ll die weak.” Strolling past me, she sighs. “Thank goodness your father didn’t live to see you like this. Defiant. Not a shred of loyalty. It’s pathetic, truly.”
I get the door. “Threaten me one more time, Mother, and see what happens. Attempt to use this child as a pawn one more time. Please. I dare you.”