Besides, I keep thinking about what she said:Sometimes a relationship isn’t about what you see in the other person. It was just…really complicated.
What kind of complication would make her stay with a guy who left her dry as a bone for two years? It wasn’t like he was good to heroutsideof bed. I wasn’t the only one who noticed how badly Jude treated her. The only thing anyone could think of was that he must be a stud in bed for her to stick with him, especially since she didn’t even need money.
I stare at the clock on my laptop, then finally close it and stand up. Damn it, it’s my house. I shouldn’t have to avoid it. As for Fiona’s remark, I’ll just find a good opportunity to broach the topic and ask her to explain. She probably wasn’t in the mood to go into it earlier. We were both overwrought, and I wasn’t in the most receptive mode at the time.
My mind made up, I head out. The underground garage is half-full. I spot the red Lamborghini, as usual taking up two spaces rather than one near the elevator. Can never decide if Aunt Jeremiah does it just for giggles or because she’s really that terrible at parking. It’s incongruent given how capable she is and how much she loves the law.
I stride past it to my Maybach. I left the Ferrari, Lamborghini and Maserati in the garage for Fiona should she need to go out.
“Bryce Emmanuel Huxley!”
I freeze at the nightmarish shriek.It can’t be Mom, it can’t—
The sound of shoes rapidly slapping concrete echoes through the garage. “Howcould you marry that whore? She works for Harvey!”
I turn to see Mom running toward me. Her blue eyes glow with a wildness that chills my blood. I feel like I’m back twenty-two years ago. She radiated the same zealous determination when she tried to kidnap me. I clench my hands to stop the fine tremor from starting. Mom will never see howshe affects me, never.
“He’s making her do his bidding for two million dollars!” she says shrilly.
“You need better spies.” I stand up straight. “And Fiona’s not a whore, she’s my wife. Show some respect.”
“I’m yourmother!” she says, stopping in front of me.
The reminder makes me want to strangle her. If there weren’t any security cameras in the garage, I might actually do it. “I don’t give a shit who or what you are. What are you going to do?” My voice shakes with rage and the old guilt that I’m the reason Ares couldn’t escape her. “Kidnap me and try to burn me alive, like you did to Ares?”
Mom goes pale. “That was anaccident!”
“Accident, my ass! He’s completely fucked in the head because of you. I’m a mess because of what you’ve done!”
“I love you!” she screams as though saying it louder will make it true and excuse all her madness. “I did it for us—for our family! I thought you’d understand. You’ve always been a good boy! Understanding and sweet and—”
Familiar fury surges at the tired defense. “Stop trying to manipulate me! I’m not your good-boy puppet anymore! Everything you didruined this family!” I bite out. “You’re the worst thing that ever happened to us!”
She staggers like I actually did hit her. But the shock fades almost immediately, replaced by wrath. Her face goes crimson. She slaps me hard enough to turn my head.
My cheek burns, and the corner of my mouth stings. I run the pad of my thumb over the spot and see blood. “So much for love.”
“It’syourfault. I’m doing my job as your mother to discipline you.”
“Mother?” I laugh at her. “You haven’t been my mother since the day you decided to kidnap us.”
She pales. “Bryce—”
“Don’t ever approach me again. Or my wife.”
“And if I do?”
“I’ll kill you,” I say quietly.
She sneers. “You wouldn’t dare. You and the rest of the goody two-shoes men in the family can’t do anything out of the box. Gotta toe the line, don’t you? You’ve always been a rule follower. A perfect child.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I love rules—know them all by heart, including dozens of ways I can get off on technicalities,” I say. “I fantasized about it while studying at Harvard Law. Had a lot of time to think about it, figure out the best way, just like you.” I take half a step forward, getting in her face. “You might think you’re tough, but that only works with a loser like Aaron. Not me.”
Mom’s chest heaves as she glares at me. Resentment flashes in her eyes as she realizes she can’t control me like she used to. I don’t buy into her vision of the family. I’m no longer her “good boy.”
“You aren’t invincible,” she says finally. “You have weaknesses.”
The way her mouth twists with bitterness brings forth the image of my wife in shock and pain after meeting my mother. “If you ever appear in front of my wife again, I’ll break your legs. If you touch her, I’ll break your hands.”
