Page 29 of One for the Money

My phone started to vibrate, and the ringtone told me it was my father. Frowning, I pulled my phone out and saw I missed a few texts from him. Ignoring the call, I pulled up the messages. My father and I had a complicated relationship where he kept trying to control me, and I told him to kick rocks.

Dad:

Von, it’s your mother, call me.

Dad:

This is serious, Evonnia, I need you to call me.

Dad:

Evonnia, I’m not fucking joking or trying to use your mother to get you to talk to me. Please call me back.

Dad:

I’m going to call you and if you don’t answer I’m going to Bear.

Dad: Missed Call x2

Out of my parents, I got along with my mother the best, but even then, we weren’t close. After she had me, there were complications that led us to find out she had MS or multiple sclerosis. Something about going through childbirth a second time had kicked the disease into high gear, and she went downhill rather quickly. Her eyesight was the first thing affected, but she never complained or got upset about her illness. “How can I be upset when I got the chance to see all of my babies’ faces?” It’s what she always told me when I asked how she wasn’t pissed off at the world.

My mother was a saint. Period. The end.

How else could you explain her ability to be so loving and kind in the face of so much pain? Fuck, she even encouraged my father to take Katarina, her full-time live-in caretaker, as a mistress. That was one thing when I was younger, I couldn’t understand or accept my father doing, even if Mom gave her blessing.

A familiar presence stepped up behind me, and instinctively, I leaned back and looked up at Bear. His black eyes stared down at me with an expression I’d never seen before, but it created a warm, fluttering sensation deep in my belly. The feel of his hand gripping my throat and his thumb stroking my skin settled me in a way I couldn’t explain. He lowered his head and kissed me, keeping it brief before he pulled away, making me pout. The glitter of approval in his gaze and the smirk he was fighting told me that reaction pleased him.

“You need to call your father,” he said, taking a seat next to me.

“He really went to you when I didn’t answer?” I demanded, irritation sparked through in my veins as I stabbed the pancake.

Bear’s hand caught my chin and forced me to look at him. Only he didn’t say anything more, simply handed me my phone with it already ringing. When I took it from him, he released me and turned to Franzi, who handed him a smoothie.

“Von,” my father’s voice sounded through the phone. Bear had put it on speaker.

That didn’t bother me. I would have told Bear everything, and Franzi would never repeat what she heard.

“What’s wrong?” I said, cutting to the chase.

The only reason he’d be this frantic to get ahold of me about Mom is if it was bad news. For him to bypass me and go to Bear meant it was terrible news. Grabbing the pot lolli, I put it back in my mouth and took a deep breath. The good feelings about this day were about to vanish as I knew they would.

“Your mother has pneumonia,” Dad answered bluntly. I appreciated he didn’t beat around the bush and try to protect me from a reality I already knew. My mother wasn’t going to live much longer.

“Is she on a vent?” I questioned, guessing that’s why he called.

With the stage my mother was at in her disease, there was a risk if put on a ventilator, she might never come off of it. In other words, she wouldn’t be able to speak to any of us, and her hands were too weak to hold a pen, let alone write something.

“We held off as long as we could, but I couldn’t get a hold of you in time,” Dad explained. “If you want, I can switch this to a video call, and you can at least speak to her.”

Taking the fork still in my hand, I slammed it into the wooden countertop. “No, I saw her when I was there a few months ago. We both said everything that needed to be said then since I didn’t know where this job for Queenie would take me.”

My father was a long-time ally to the Raffa Family, which had been run by Astin’s grandfather until she took over. Because of that, he’d been part of the plans to take down the Accardi and Leoni Families, which meant he knew the task I’d been assigned and how important it was.

“Are you sure? You don’t even want to say goodbye?” Dad pressed, the hurt at my choice ringing clearly in my ears.

“I said my goodbyes when I was able to do it to her face and hug her. That is the memory I want to keep… not seeing her hooked up to a machine when you should have just let her go. Hasn’t she suffered enough?” I snapped. “Thanks for letting me know, but next time, just send a fucking text.” With that, I ended the call and slammed my phone face down on the counter.

Tears burned in my eyes, but I wasn’t going to cry over my mother. She’d made it clear when we talked that death was something she welcomed. Finally, her suffering would be over, and her hope for whatever lies on the other side would allow her to be happy and free.