Even if I had proof, I wouldn’t dare.
It’s bad enough the Bouchard Syndicate has it out for us. I don’t want to paint a target on my mother’s back. She’s already in enough danger from being related to me, right now.
But what am I supposed to say that won’t have her contacting him to demand that he keep his word to her?
“It’s complicated,” I say.
“Uncomplicate it,” she says flatly.
I sigh. “Mom…”
I don’t know what to tell her.
Maybe George Bouchard will keep his word to her and I’m worrying over nothing.
I doubt it.
He’s going to want to get to Blaze, and he knows that fucking me over is an easy way to get to his own son.
I wonder how his own homecoming is going. I itch to pull out my phone and text him, but I’m here to spend time with my mom.
I’ll message him later.
I finish loading the dishwasher and turn to the fridge. It’s full, but I’m willing to bet most of it is expired and she hasn’t gotten around to clearing it.
“Tell me about your new job,” I say, tossing the jar of mayonnaise I find.
“Nope,” she says. “Nice try. Asch, please stop doing that.”
“Nope,” I echo. “I’m going to help you, and we’re going to get everything in order.”
She sighs, muttering, “Why bother?”
I grit my teeth. “Because it’ll help you. You know it will.”
“For all of three weeks before things go back to how they were,” she says, and I hate the defeatist attitude.
She doesn’t usually show it to me, preferring to stay positive when I’m around, but I’ve seen the tears and the despair over her inability tostopdoing what she’s doing. To fix things. To make things better.
“It won’t be like that,” I say softly. “Not this time.”
She offers me a tight smile. “Tell me why you think your tuition is going to stop being paid for,” she tells me.
“Because Blaze pissed off his dad, and the easiest way to get to Blaze is to get to me,” I finally tell her.
“That motherfucker,” she mutters.
I arch a brow at her.
“What?” Mom asks. “What else am I supposed to call him? If he’s willing to drop his end of the deal he made with me because of a feud he’s having with his son, he’s just as much of a heartless bastard as I always thought he was.”
If she knew the truth, she’d have more creative curses for him.
“Yeah, well,” I say. “It wouldn’t be terrible having me home, would it?”
“Dyschord will give you more opportunities than NVU,” she says. “And you know it.”
“There are other universities in New Valence,” I remind her.
