Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 71832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
I stare at her, not sure what to say. On the one hand, it’s extremely sweet: this woman is a member of a powerful family and, from what I’ve heard, she’s considered the brains behind the operation. But on the other, I absolutely don’t want to be welcomed, not into her family, not into anything resembling her family.
Unfortunately, this is my situation.
“Thank you,” I finally manage to say.
There’s another noise down the hall. Molly stands, smoothing her pants, as Carson comes storming into the room.
Chapter 28
Ash
Carson stares at his mother for a long moment before his eyes flit down to me. I get up, feeling awkward, like I walked in on something I shouldn’t have.
“Mother,” he says, his tone sharp. “I heard you showed up. Why didn’t you call first?”
“Because I didn’t want you to be here.” She sounds disappointed that he arrived so quickly. “I hoped you would be gone longer.”
“I ran back the moment my security system alerted me to your presence.”
She clucks her tongue. “I forgot about that silly thing.”
“Wait, your home security knew your mom was here?” I look around, searching for cameras. “How does that even work?”
“Facial recognition,” Carson says, waving me away as if it’s totally normal he’s got cameras scanning every face that comes into his home. “Mother, why did you show up without speaking to me first?”
“Because I wanted to make sure this girl wasn’t in trouble.” She comes around the couch and it’s like I can barely breathe. His own mother is straight up saying that to him? Right to his face? But if the implication bothers Carson beyond a minor annoyance, he doesn’t show it.
“We have a mutually beneficial arrangement,” he says, glaring at her hard. “You don’t have any right to get involved.”
“I have every right. I’m your mother. And you know I worry about your… little obsessions.”
Carson’s eyes glance at me for a moment. That word pierces deep into my stomach. Obsession. His little obsessions. What does she mean by that, and why do I get the distinct feeling that I’m missing something important here?
“Ashlyn is safe,” he says, moving closer to his mother. “I understand I should have approached you sooner, but you must know why I didn’t.”
“You were worried. I can see that.”
“Despite what you may think, I didn’t force anything in this situation. Ash is here by her own choice.”
“That’s what she said too.” His mother touches his face. I shift from foot to foot, glancing away. It’s too intimate for me to watch. “You know I worry.”
“You don’t have to. I’m happy, Mother.”
“Then I’m happy for you. She’s very pretty. I can see why you like her.”
“It’s not only about looks.”
“I hope not.”
I want to scream and explode. They’re talking about me like I’m not here—or, worse, like I’m a prized cow.
Molly turns away from her son, catching me with an appraising look. “It was lovely to meet you, Ashlyn. I hope we’ll spend more time together in the future.”
Overwhelmed by this whole thing, I say, “I hope so too. Thank you for stopping by.” I come around the couch. “Let me walk you to the door.”
She gives her son a wink as I brush past him. He only stares at me, his expression inscrutable.
“You want to ask me something,” she says out on the stoop.
I linger, glancing around to make sure nobody’s listening. “This isn’t the first time I’ve heard someone mention Carson and me and obsession in the same breath. Like he’s been, I don’t know… thinking about me. For a while.”
His mother tilts her head to the side. “My oldest son is a good person. Despite what you may think about our family, he takes care of those he cares about. And I believe he cares about you very deeply. Does that help?”
“Not really.”
“I didn’t think it would.” She moves down the stoop. “I can’t answer your question. You’ll have to talk to him if you want to get to the root of that. But just know… he does care.” She waves as she gets into the back of a black sedan.
I watch her pull away, a shiver running down the back of my neck.
“I already told you what you need to know.”
I yelp, jumping slightly, and whirl around. Carson’s standing just inside, watching me.
“Don’t sneak up on me like that, you psycho.” I brush past him, heading into the house.
He closes and locks the door. “I like what you’ve done to the apartment.”
“I like that your mother just showed up out of the blue to make sure I’m not your latest kidnapping victim.”
“I’m not so much a fan of that.”
“Which begs the question, why the hell would your own mother think you’d do something like that?” I snatch my wine glass from the coffee table and drink it down.
He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he picks up a photograph of my brother, my father, my mother, and me back when we were young, taken on the boardwalk at Sea Isle City, New Jersey, during a summer vacation. We’re happy, sunburnt, and nobody’s worried about organized crime or dying of breast cancer. Not yet, anyway. All that ugly stuff would come later. But that’s what I like about the picture: it’s before everything fell apart, back when we were still a family.