“What about Freya? Where is she?” I ask, watching his uneasiness rise.
Damn it. Here we go again.
“Just tell me.”
“She passed away about ten years ago. Jennifer said they believed it was an accidental overdose.” He reaches over, wrapping me in a warm embrace. “I’m sorry, sweetie.”
“It’s okay,” I say and actually mean it. I should feel something for her. Be upset that I won’t have the opportunity to ever know her. But I don’t. I’m grieving for the mom I had, not a stranger who was never in my life.
“What about Zachary?” I ask, waiting until he finally says, “He’s Jennifer’s biological child.”
I’m jealous. Her blood is running through his veins. He still has a part of her. But I’m happy for him too.
“I have to go.” I stand as Aunt Kathleen begs me to spend the night.
“I have plans with a friend tonight.” Lies are coming way too easily. But I need to get away. Because lying that I can’t stay because I have plans is easier than the lie that I’m okay.
83
LUCA
Since I got the call from Anthony that she was at her house, I’ve had my eyes on her. But she doesn’t know it because I’ve kept my distance.
Though it gets more difficult with every minute that ticks by. When she leaves her uncle’s house and heads to the accident site, I know my willpower is spent. So, I stop fighting it and walk over to where she’s sitting in the grass. Her sight on the street as cars drive through the intersection.
She flatly states, “Go away.”
“I’d like to explain.” I’ll try if she lets me. She must have questions, and I need to be near her a little longer.
“I. Don’t. Care.” Her voice trembles as she says, “It really doesn’t matter.”
“You matter. You’re everything to me.” I drop down beside her.
“No, I really don’t. But great news, you didn’t kill my mom. She was just some woman who adopted me and stayed married to a toxic, gambling loser for me.”
I don’t know how to respond to that correctly. “Sounds like you mattered greatly to her.”
“Yep. And I was hateful to her,” she utters. “My bio mom is dead too though. No need to worry about that one. Two dead moms and a compulsive gambler for a father. Lucky me. I should play thelottery.”
There’s a pause before she says, “Explain that to me. Please. How did my dad pick the house behind yours?”
“He didn’t. I offered it and the money to him as long as you lived there.” It won’t make sense to her. But I try to explain where my head was. “I wanted you to be close by. And Anthony is the person I trust most in the world, so I asked him to keep an eye on you when I couldn’t. I needed to do something to help you. But it’ll never be enough.”
“The entire thing was a sham. But for the right price, I was available to be your puppet.” Her angry stare turns to me. “So how much pleasure did you get knowing you were fucking me all while keeping your dirty secret that you killed my mother? Was that a bonus for Mercy? Did you score any extra points?”
“It wasn’t like that.” I recall watching her in the aftermath of the accident. “I didn’t want to pull strings; I wanted to repair what I broke.”
She slowly looks away as she asks, “How’d you even know he was my dad? Who to buy off?”
I admit, “I followed you. After the accident, I kept a close watch on everything you did, everywhere you went. I thought you’d get better, but you only got sadder, then you stop caring, stopped living.” The more I speak the more I don’t believe she will ever forgive me, but I owe her this much. “When Everett touched you, promised you to take it easy, I knew he wasn’t who you needed. And I wanted to be the one to fix everything.”
Leaning over, I gently grasp her chin and turn her head to look at me. “He wouldn’t push you. He sat by and let you be miserable; let you become numb and hollow. I recognized that you needed to be pushed. That you’re strong. That you had a firein you that needed the right match. I extinguished it, so I needed to reignite it.”
“That’s stupid.” She slaps away my hand. “You’re stupid. This entire thing is stupid.” She’s screaming by the last word and gets on her feet.
When I stand, she shoves her hands against me, punching my chest. “I hate you.”
I grab her wrists, holding her hands to me. “I had to try. It was more than anyone else, including you, were doing.”
