Page 91 of Mad Girl

“I wouldn’t put too much stock in what that twit says.” Under your breath, you muttered, “Fucking wanker.”

I smiled, because you tended to sound infinitely more English when you were angry. Twit. Wanker. I would’ve teased you about it if I hadn’t wanted to get my point across. “Well, do you see anyone else here with an escort? Or even their parents?”

You sighed. “Do you actually care what any of them think?”

“Not really. But I still want you to acknowledge how crazy it is that you have to come to these practices at all. My dad wants you here to keep me in line. You’re not here to protect me—you’re here to protect them. You get that, right?”

You squinted against the afternoon sun. “It is a bit crazy,” you agreed. “But you’re not going to hurt anyone, we both know that. And your dad? He’s just overprotective. Some parents are like that.”

“My dad’s so overprotective that everyone knows it, and it makes me even more of a freak.”

“Don’t call yourself that,” you ordered.

I sighed. Crossed my legs. Watched Greer shoot his partner a cocky grin as they approached the net. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” you said.

“My mom—you said my dad talked to her about you. Was it over the phone or in person?”

You winced. “Um…both?”

My heart skipped. “How do you know for sure he saw her?”

“He…told me he did. But I shouldn’t be telling you that.”

“Why not?”

“I get the feeling he wouldn’t like it,” you said, back squirming against the chain-link fence.

“But she’s my mother. If he talked to her in person, that means he knows where she is. Everyone acts like she walked off one day and vanished—that’s the way they’ve always made it sound to me.” I issued a bitter laugh. “But this is my dad—of course he knows where she is. He would’ve tracked her down. He makes it his business to know everything.”

“Hey,” you said, laying a hand on my arm.

But I went on. “She’s out there somewhere, and he can reach her whenever he wants? She’s out there, still talking to him, and she’s never asked to see me?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “I don’t know the answer to that.”

“What if she has? And he won’t let her? What if he’s been keeping me from her all this time?”

“Elliot,” you said, ducking to meet my gaze, fingers pressing into my arm. “I’m not sure of a lot, but I do know this—each of their chats left your dad agitated. Angry. On edge. The effect she had on him? It wasn’t good. She seems toxic to him.”

“But if she’s so horrible, Casey—if she’s this cold, toxic woman my dad claims she is—what made him fall in love with her? Want to marry her? Want to have a baby with her? There has to be something good about her, right?”

“I’m not sure,” you said with a sigh. “But, hey, why’re you bringing this up right now?”

“Because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since you told me. He talked to my mother. He saw her.”

“Yes—and I should never have mentioned it.”

“Why?”

“Because it doesn’t change anything, right? Do you see her?” You flung a hand out, as if to prove your point. “Is she here? If she wanted to be here, don’t you think she would be? If she really wanted a relationship with you, do you think your dad would be able to stop her?”

I considered this—but not for long. “If you don’t know the answer to that question, then you haven’t been paying attention to what I’ve been trying to tell you about my dad. If he wanted to keep me away from her, he would. If only I had a way of finding out the truth…”

That’s when it hit me. I grabbed your wrist to check the time. “Let’s go,” I said, standing up.

“You can’t leave in the middle of practice,” you replied, peering up at me.