“We need to get you back to the cabin,” he said without answering my question.
“Why?”
“Just trust me.”
“Oh, my god, Tris, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”
“I’m not goin’ into details, sissy. Come on, let’s just get you back.”
He took my bag from me and led me to his rental car. I climbed in, but my stomach roiled, and I just wanted to get eyes on my man.
“Is Ori okay?” I whispered.
“Yeah, sissy, he’s good.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Have you seen him to confirm ‘he’s good’?”
“No.”
“Oh, my god!” I squeaked. “What the hell is going on?”
“Jenae.”
“What about my mom?”
“Well, she’s here.”
“What?” I asked on a gasp. “Here, where?”
“The cabin.”
“No. Huh-uh. No way in hell.”
“Way,” my brother retorted.
“Why?”
“Because she went to the townhouse, where she was met by Scooby and Scrappy, and she demanded one of them take her to you.”
I groaned. “My mother is not really at the cabin, surrounded by bikers…is she?”
He grinned. “’Fraid so, sissy.”
“Jesus Christ. Did she remove her jewelry and hide her Birkin in the trunk?”
He glanced at me and nodded, his grin widening.
“Has she seen you yet?”
He couldn’t stop his laughter as he shook his head and I smacked his arm.
“You did not really leave her there alone without at least reassuring her she was going to be okay, did you?”
He grimaced.
I couldn’t blame him too much. My mother was asnob. With a capital S and had not always been kind to Tristan. He was the person who stood between her and our dad. He never did, but she always saw him as a threat.
Even twenty-eight years later, she was convinced my dad would leave her for a younger woman and that Tristan would help facilitate that. She was fifteen years my dad’s junior, she had been a flight attendant, and since he was a pilot, she saw the bevy of offers he received on a daily basis, so I suppose it was a natural insecurity when she started to get older, but my mother was beautiful. Cindy Crawford beautiful.
