Torn (The Fosters of New York 3)

She blows a heavy puff of air out between her lips. "She took an Uber. The security guy posted at the door helped her load her stuff into the car."

"This is bullshit," I whisper. "She's not answering her phone. I have no idea if she's safe."

"She's a grown woman, Asher." She rubs her finger over the bridge of her nose. "If she wanted to talk to you, she'd answer. Let her be. You'll find her tomorrow."

She thinks it's that easy. She didn't see the expression on Falon's face when I had to rush away from her in my dressing room.

My chance to explain who Karen is and to tell Falon that she's the only woman who matters to me, may have disappeared, the same way she has.

***

"What are you doing here?"

I lean against the open door of my hotel room. It's just past seven in the morning. I finally fell asleep near four after working out in the private gym on the floor below me.

"I'm your mother, Asher." She brushes past me with a quick kiss to my cheek. "What kind of greeting is that?"

When I spoke to her on the phone two days

ago, I was tempted to bring up the voicemail that Caterina sold to me. I should have, but I know enough to realize that once I open that can of worms, my mom will scramble into victim mode.

The tears will start and the lies will follow. She'll warn my dad that I'm out for blood and any chance I may have had to talk to him candidly about this will be gone.

She's just as responsible as he is for keeping the truth from me all these years but I don’t want to discuss this with her. I refuse to. She'll shut down. I know my dad won't.

"I was asleep." I close the door behind her before I tug a t-shirt over my head. I hastily pulled on sweatpants once the knocking started, hoping it was Falon.

"How was the concert?" She moves to sit on a chair in the living room area of the suite I'm staying in.

The room is more space than I need, but I had Dita reserve it so I could spend the night here with Falon. I stare briefly at the vase containing two dozen white roses on the bedside table.

"It was fine, Mom."

"I tried to get here in time to see you on stage." She strums her fingers against the arm of the chair. "There was a luncheon in Los Angeles yesterday that I just had to attend. By the time that was over, it was too late."

"You're here now. Why bother coming if you missed the show?"

She studies the roses before she looks back at me. "Your brother called me last night. He said that something is wrong. Gabriel told me that you're trying to locate Roman. I took the red eye flight to see if I can help."

I open the small refrigerator and pull out a bottle of water. I unscrew the cap before I drink half. "I need to talk to him about something. Once he's back in touch, I'm going to see him."

"Why?" she blurts out. "What is this about?"

I finish the last of the water as I watch her. "It's something I want to talk to him about first."

She pulls on the neckline of the dark blue blouse she's wearing. "I'm your mother, Asher. You can tell me anything."

There's irony in there somewhere, I'm just too tired and pissed off to seek it out right now.

"I have to meet my manager soon. I'm doing a segment on one of the morning shows." I motion towards the washroom. "Right now I'm hopping in the shower. If you want to stay, order us both some coffee. If you don't, I'll talk to you after I talk to dad."

"What's going on with you?" She stands. "You're not acting like yourself and who are those roses for? Is there a woman in here, Asher? Is she in the bathroom?"

I laugh. "The roses are for my girlfriend. I wish to hell she was here but she's not."

"You have a girlfriend? Since when?"

"Since I realized that I can't fucking live without her," I mutter under my breath as I walk into the washroom and slam the door behind me.