And maybe that isn’t her fault. My father did a number on her confidence and security. If she was anything like Alex in her past, I imagine she had to do some awfully dirty things to get to her place near the top of the ladder. Whatever my father did to her before I was born and leading up to his recent death isn’t quite clear—though I have seen plenty to make me think that her level of fucked up has a lot to do with him.
“I worry about you,” she says softly while shutting the door. “I worry about Addie.”
I frown hard while responding coldly, “You don’t have to worry about us.”
“I can’t help it, Tomas. I want to be a mother to you. But I just don’t know how.”
“That’s just how it is sometimes, right?”
We share another passing silence. Without waiting for her to ask, I step out of the car and open the trunk, ushering one of the valets over to help with my mother’s luggage. The valet rolls a cart toward us and starts piling Gucci suitcases onto the platform, being careful with each one. Mother stands nearby to watch with her colorful shawl draped loosely around her shoulders.
Now that she has more color in her skin, she appears a little more saintly than usual, all rosy cheeks and bright eyes as she observes me quietly. Always so quietly. I never realized my mother was such a quiet creature until she wasn’t on every drug known to mankind. The round hazel-brown of her irises reflects an image of me, a boy who once loved her and saw that she could do no harm.
Christ, what have the years done to us?
What has this lifestyle done to us?
“Goodbye, Mother,” I whisper while embracing her. “I hope you find what you need.”
“I hope you know what you truly want, Tomas. Unlike me.”
She releases me, her body still somewhat frail from rehabilitation, hardly retaining any of her former strength. Or did she never quite have any? I don’t recall my mother being as rail-thin as she looks now, but maybe that’s because I’ve grown so much.
She touches my cheek lightly and then turns to the sliding doors, holding her chin up as she wanders inside. The valet follows her to the counter and I watch her until the doors slide back into place, revealing the empty road behind me, hosting my parked car. The wind whips around me for a moment, tousling my hair.
It takes a minute to break eye contact with my reflection. I return to my vehicle, pop the car into drive, and pull carefully away from the curb, the silence of the cab throbbing in my ears. But I don’t bother turning on the radio. I need the quiet—I need the emptiness to fill with my thoughts.
Soon enough, the highway opens up in front of me and I set the cruise control, reclining slightly in my seat while keeping an eye on the growing traffic around me. Afternoon light creeps through the windows and warms my arms, revealing the perfectly ironed lines of my suit. I rub the area briefly before returning my hands to the wheel, slowing my vehicle as more traffic joins the highway.
While weaving between cars, I think about Alex and how much I want her. I’m tired of acting like a little boy in her presence, a jealous and vengeful child who refuses to take any sort of kindness from her. I’m sick of being afraid of her affection—and of the potential of being without it.
The time for change is now.
I’m ready to give her what she wants. Love, security, attention, and her father’s killer should be the right recipe. As much as Alex is sensitive, she’s also a stone-cold bitch who craves revenge as much as the rest of us do. There’s a possibility that she desires it even more now, her motives fueled by the deaths of her parents as well as Lev.
If I were her, I’d want to burn the whole city to the ground.
Hell, I wouldn’t be opposed to such a thing. If it meant her happiness and her comfort, then I would gladly watch every building in this place burn to ashes. It would be the best sort of apology that would give me an outlet for my rage.
While losing my father wasn’t any kind of loss, I feel his absence weighed in the listless stare of my little sister, who doesn’t understand how to move forward just yet. She would have been with my mother if my mother had decided to stick around, but now she’ll simply stay with Evelyn and Cynthia, guided by their gentle and generous natures.
Which might be better than any place she could end up.
Taking her with me isn’t right. My selfish side wants to keep her in my sight at all times and to give her a mentor like Alex, but I also want to shelter her from the horrors of the crime world. Too little. Too late. I sigh while flipping my blinker on and merging into the left lane, taking the exit that splits off to the left to continue toward Macedon. At least she’s learning how to defend herself now.
Will my sister be okay without me? There’s no doubt she’ll be safe with the Welles. No other family in town will dare to threaten her because they know I’ll be back in a heartbeat if her safety is ever compromised. But where does that leave the Persian?
My hand tightens on the wheel. We’re going to handle that business before we leave. Once that’s handled, we won’t have anything to worry about anymore.
Having Alex on my side grants me the confidence I’ve always needed. I realize now how poorly I treated her—more like a trophy than a person—and my obsession led to deeply rooted pain that I can’t heal in one day. It will take a while to earn her trust again, but I’ll be sure to do it right, to prove myself to her.
No wonder she always said no to me. She tried to tell me once that I was treating her like an object, but I refused to listen, too absorbed by my desires to care about what she wanted or needed.
But not anymore.
I’m prepared to meet her halfway, to give and receive. All the fears that once haunted me about being vulnerable with her have been smashed to pieces. After almost losing her both at the hands of death and by my cruel selfishness, it’s up to me to make sure I don’t ever contribute to that again.
Her overdose was my fault. I’m the one who introduced her to drugs. Though she and I are both sober now, I can’t soon forget the nights we spent idly swallowing this pill or that drink, indulging every unquenchable thirst. She wouldn’t have toppled over the edge if it weren’t for me.