“She was the most beautiful woman I have ever known.” The words weren’t spoken for effect; they were soft and sincere and came from Branna’s heart.
“How long has she been gone?”
“She died when I was twelve.”
Two years before she came to Howling. He remembered how sometimes she’d looked so sad it had hurt his chest, but at sixteen, he’d not been able to do anything about it, because he didn’t know how to reach out to a girl who was struggling to cope in his town, a girl two years younger than everyone around her.
“How did she die?” He thought she wasn’t going to tell him, but then she started talking.
“W-we were in a car and it crashed. I lived and she died.”
“Tough losing your mother at that age, on you and your father.”
“It was my fault.”
The words were whispered, and when he looked at her, she’d turned around and was gone. Jake followed, finding her in the kitchen. She was getting down two mugs from the cupboard above her.
“Why was it your fault, Branna?”
Her shoulders were hunched, body curled in on it’s self.
“It doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Is this another question we’re not going to have an answer for?”
“Don’t make it sound like it’s just me who doesn’t like answering them, McBride.”
“Point taken.”
She messed about with sugar and cream, taking things out of cupboards and putting them on the bench.
“So, tell me anyway,” he added.
“This, what’s between us, is about sex, Jake, nothing more. Nothing deep and meaningful, no emotional entanglements. Just sex. If you don’t want that, then walk away now.”
“Not want it? It’s every man’s dream.” So why wasn’t he smiling? She’d said the words that he’d wanted to hear.Don’t rely on me, Branna. I’m not a safe bet right now.Those words had been on his tongue, and she’d beat him to it, and that just plain pissed him off, and Jake had no idea why.
“I still want to hear about your mother, seeing as you started the conversation by saying it was your fault.”
She turned away from him to pour the coffee.
“I was arguing with her, telling her and my father, who was in the front seat that I wanted a cell phone like everyone else had. Why did I have to be the different kid, the one everyone laughed at just because my parents were too mean to buy me one?”
“That sounds like a normal teenage conversation to me.”
Her hands were braced on the surface now, body still turned away from him, as the memories hit her.
“She turned to look at me and the car swerved and we hit a barrier. She took the full impact, but my father and I survived.”
“And, therefore, her death is your fault?” Jake kept his voice calm. He’d dealt with enough trauma in the army to know what was going on here.
“Yes!” She spun to face him. “It was my fault because I was a spoiled brat. Had I not made such a scene that day, she would still be alive.”
“Because nothing else would have distracted her. She wouldn’t have wanted to turn to look at her husband or daughter, the two people she loved? Her eyes would have stayed on that road, never deviating. You know that’s bullshit, right? That supersized brain of yours has worked that out by now, surely?”
“Don’t try to analyze this, McBride. It is what it is, plain and simple. My behavior killed my mother and drove my father and me apart. End of story, now drink your coffee or leave. I don’t care which one.”
She was lashing out at him because she was angry and hurting, Jake knew this. He’d even done it a few times himself, but it still pissed him off. “‘Thanks for the fuck, Jake. Now piss off.’ Is that how this is going, Rosebud?”
