Before she can usher us toward the overstuffed floral sofa in the parlor, Mr. A says, “Can I steal you for a minute, Cole? I need some help around back.”
Cole’s glance toward me might be mistaken for a new groom’s loving concern about leaving his beloved bride for even a second. But I see the set of his jaw. He doesn’t trust me.
In response to that coded stare, all the wild spirits inside me rebel. They scream for me to set a torch to the tower of secrets Cole has built over the years. That’s the only way I can truly protect myself—hit first and hit harder and keep on hitting.
But Mrs. A doesn’t know anything about the savage forces gnawing through my breastbone. She smiles fondly at both men and says, “Go on, you two. But the instant you get that screen door set, I want you inside and washing up for dinner.”
“Two minutes,” Mr. A promises. Cole follows him, with a single backward glance.Mind your manners, he seems to say. I raise my chin, reminding him he doesn’t own me. His eyes narrow before he leaves the room.
“Wonderful,” Mrs. A says, guiding me toward the kitchen. “That gives us a few minutes to catch up, just us girls. Now tell me the truth. How are you settling into married life?”
What am I supposed to say?
That I ran away from home two weeks into my marriage, planning to buy a one-way ticket to County Donegal, but I changed my mind at the last possible second?
Or should I tell her about all the ways I’ve let Cole hurt me in his dungeon, and all the ways I dream he’ll punish me again?
Or maybe I should say Cole said he loves me, out loud, without any qualifiers, but thinking of saying the same words back makes my heart pound so hard my vision starts to fade at the edges?
I finally choose: “It’s harder than I thought it would be.”
“That sounds about right for newlyweds,” Mrs. A says with a laugh. “Evan and I have been reading all those articles this week, about layoffs at Hamilton. Is Cole worried about his department?”
A dozen possible answers sting my throat like vinegar. Cole has left me exposed here. I don’t know what department he’s supposed to work for, so I’m vulnerable. And this is all his fault because Itoldhim I didn’t want to come to dinner. I didn’t want to leave the car. I didn’t want to be left alone with Mrs. A.
“Dear?” Mrs. A prompts when I take too long to answer. Her face creases into a frown.
I’m embarrassed and I’m angry and I’m scared—which leaves plenty of room for my old familiar devil to maneuver.
Go ahead,he whispers.Lash out. Say whatever you want. Cole deserves it, after dumping shite on all the years you kept your da afloat. Eye for an eye,the demon says.Tooth for a feckin’ tooth.
It’s the wrong thing to do—I know that. But the devil you know… And this devil has kept me going for years. Ever since the bad men…
Do it. You’ll feel better. You’ll be in control.
“The truth is,” I start, before I have to clear my throat. “I haven’t been up front with you, Mrs. A. Cole hasn’t either. He?—”
“Kate, love,” Cole says, so close behind me that I jump. I didn’t even hear the men come back inside while I was wrestling with my own worst instincts.
Cole settles his fingers at the nape of my neck, a gesture that must look like he’s offering a loving bit of massage. But I feel his real intention as his thumb and forefinger press together hard.
My husband’s voice is rock-steady as he says, “I thought we agreed not to bother the Andersons with all of that.”
The evil creature inside me burrows deep, leaving me alone to face the mess I’ve made.
18
COLE
Itrusted Kate. I honestly believed she understood what the Andersons mean to me—what I’ll do to protect them from my past, from all the bad decisions I’ve ever made.
As Mr. A and I came back into the house, he was sharing his list of household chores, so I missed the first part of Kate’s conversation with Mrs. A. I just heard the beginning of her confession, the brutal rip of the stitches that barely hold my lies together.
The Andersons stood by me when I took the fall for Shannon, when I pleaded guilty to multiple counts of fraud and served over two years in juvie, when I was released back into the world of civilized adults. If they find out I’ve been lying all these years, that I run Lone Wolf, that I’m a billionaire…
For a moment, I don’t recognize the force tightening a padlock around my chest. Then I do. It’spanic. I must keep Kate from destroying the only family I’ve ever known.
Mr. A gives me an odd look as he says, “Linda? Can you help me for a second? I caught my finger in the screen door, and I need a Band-Aid.” It’s clear both Andersons caught my deadly tone just now. They hustle out of the kitchen like they’re late to a church social.
