He ends the call and shoves his phone into his pocket.
“What?” I pull back and cross my arms over my stomach, suddenly freezing cold. “Did he take her home?”
“Let’s sit.” He moves me into the living room and sits on the couch.
“I don’t want to sit, Blake.” Why do I need to sit? My head gets light, and my teeth chatter. “Is it bad? Are you afraid I’ll pass out? Just tell me, I’m freaking out here.”
“Come here.” He holds out his hand.
I don’t move.
“Everything’s okay, just come here.”
Closing the space between us, I grab his hand and he pulls me onto his lap.
The thought that I’m sitting on Blake’s lap in my living room tickles at the back of my mind, but the thought is shoved aside by my panic. “There. Now tell me what’s going on?”
He pushes my hair over my shoulder and lets his hand rest against my back. “Killian didn’t take her home today.”
“What!” I push off Blake’s lap, but he grabs my hips and pulls me back down.
“Sweetheart, calm down. You’re not doing your girl any favors by freakin’ the fuck out.”
“Okay, fine. Just tell me where she is.”
“He said she’s been hanging out with some different kids lately.”
Different kids?
“Guess she’s been ditching Killian after school and getting rides from a girl named Brooklyn.”
“Brooklyn. I’ve never heard her talk about any girl named Brooklyn.” She talks about a group of girls she’s made friends with, but they go see movies and go out for ice cream. “So she’s probably with her. Did Killian give you a number?”
A slight grimace twists his mouth. “Problem is, Killian doesn’t hang with that crew. According to him, they’re troublemakers.”
I feel my expression fall and my jaw go slack. My stomach turns and sours. “Oh no.”
“She’ll be fine, Mouse.” He sounds so sure. How can he be so sure? “But sounds like you girls need to have a mother-daughter heart-to-heart.”
I shake my head. “She doesn’t listen to me. She hates me.”
“Impossible.”
“No, I’m serious.” I groan and pinch closed my eyes. “It’s too late. I’ve lost her.”
He hooks my chin with his fingers, forcing me to look in his eyes. “It’s never too late.”
“You don’t understand—”
“I do. My dad’s a dick of epic proportions. He’s never been anything but a dick. Ever. You love your girl, she’s gotta feel it. She’s pissed. She’ll get over it. But she needs you. Do not give up on her.”
I stare at his handsome face, absorbing his words said with so much conviction it’s impossible not to believe him.
“I don’t know what to do.”
He runs his hand up my back. “You’ll figure it out.”
“She’s rebellious. She makes bad choices. I don’t want her to end up…” I exhale and fight the guilt that wells up at what I’m about to say. “Like me.”
“There are worse things than ending up like you, Mouse. I’m sure you talk to her, you’ll—Click.
The sound of the front door has us both on our feet. I rush to the kitchen to see Elle stumbling in through the door.
She sways on her feet, jiggling the door handle. “Stupid fucking keeeey.”
Worry and relief fuel my anger, and I cross the kitchen to get in her face. “Are you drunk?”
My question sends her body around so fast that she falls back against the wall. Her bloodshot eyes, rimmed in an obnoxious amount of black eyeliner, go wide over my shoulder. The heat of Blake’s presence behind me and his support make me stand taller. He literally has my back. “Answer me.”
Her sloppy eyes slide to mine. “Chill, Momma, chill.”
“Aw, fuck,” he murmurs for only my ears.
Aw fuck is right.
“It’s nine o’clock. On a school night.” There’s so much I want to say, but my mind scrambles to grasp just one coherent thought. “It’s not safe, Axelle. You’re a child, and you’re drunk. I trusted you.”
She glares at me and pushes off the wall. “Yeah, and I trusted you.”
That doesn’t make any sense. It must be the drunk talking. “Go to bed. You’re not making any sense.”
Her head rolls around on her shoulders. “Really, Mom? How about the fact that you sat on your ass. Doing nothing. Make sense?”
“What are you talking about?” I throw my arm out to indicate our home. “I’ve been working my butt off.”
She steps up, putting her nose just inches from my face. “Maybe you need to work harder.”
I blink through the stench of liquor on her breath when I feel Blake’s bicep press against my shoulder.
Damn, he’s hearing all this. He needs to leave. I need to end this. “Go sleep it off, Axelle. You don’t have the slightest clue what you’re talking about.”
For a second her eyes clear and she gives me a biting, deep-blue glare. “Don’t I?” She coughs up a laugh. “Not a baby anymore, Momma. All those years… you thought I didn’t know?” With a slow swipe of her eyes from my head to my ankles and back, she smiles. “You’re so fucking pathetic.”
“Enough.” Blake steps between us. “Bed. Now.” He grabs Elle’s arm and drags her to the mouth of the short hallway.
She rips her arm from his hold. “Fine, He-Man. That’s what I was gonna do anyway.” Her body ping-pongs down the hallway to her room, where she slams the door behind her with a muttered curse.
I stand there stunned but not at all surprised to hear her voice her feelings. I assumed she felt that way. Doesn’t make hearing it from her mouth any easier, though. It also doesn’t help that those exact words flowed from Stewart’s mouth frequently, oftentimes in front of her. Despite all my efforts to shield her from the ugliness of our life, she managed to have a front-row seat to the worst of it.
Blake’s standing with his back to me. His hands are on his hips, his face pointed to the floor. Shame and anger funnel within me. If I didn’t hate Stewart enough already, I despise him now.
I was convinced that leaving would solve my problems. But geographical distance doesn’t mean shit when the poison is imbedded so deep within that it’s become part of us. The destruction he left behind sabotages not only our relationship with each other, but ultimately our future.
“I’m sorry you had to see that.” There has to be something more I can say, something more poignant, but that’s all I can manage.
Words of eloquence were never your strong suit.
Fuck you, Stewart.
Blake faces me, and there’s a tenderness in his eyes that’s hard to look at. “She’s drunk. I’m sure she didn’t mean—”
“I deserved it.”
“No, Mouse. You didn’t.”
The loathing creeps in. My own destructive thoughts attack what little self-esteem I’ve managed to build. “You don’t know me.”
He dissolves the space between us. “I want to know you. Tell me.”
He has no idea what he’s asking. Busting the locks and tearing the chains off the vault that stores all my humiliation would be like reliving it. I’m not strong enough.
“I’m not doing this. Not with you. Not now.” I storm past him into the hallway and to my room. My eyes burn, but not with sadness as much as frustration. Because I’d give anything to purge my soul of the ugly secrets I’m hiding. I kick the door shut with my foot but swing around when I don’t hear it slam. I should have known.
Blake’s big body stands in the doorway. “Yes, you are.”
I lean toward him and point in his face. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”