Page 47 of Kylie

“You didn’t know.”

It wasn’t a question.

“Oh, yes. You and your father probably thought she was dedicating her time to expanding young minds, but no, she was rolling around naked with a couple of young boys. I can’t even call them young men because at fifteen…” He smiled again. “You get the picture.”

The revelation probably should’ve surprised me, but it didn’t. I’d suspected that my mother had been spending too much time with some of her male students, but back then, I had been a teenager myself, not caring about anyone but me.

“She landed herself a live one,” Martin continued. “A classmate of yours, I believe.”

I didn’t want him to say a name, but I stared at him, waiting.

“Decker Bromwell,” he drawled slowly, his eyes imploring me, clearly anticipating a response.

“So?” I blurted, ignoring the creepy-crawly feeling that inched its way up my back. The thought of my mother and a kid who’d been my age. And yes, I remembered Decker. Not well, but he was teetering in the ol’ memory bank. He hadn’t been incredibly popular, but I had to wonder if that was by design. Had he been withdrawn and quiet because he’d been hanging out with my mother?

Yuck. The thought made bile surge in my throat.

“That’s actually how I came to know your mother. Through Decker.” He was animated at this point, his hands moving as he spoke. “Let’s just say I’d been maneuvering chess pieces on the board for some time, and Vincent, Decker’s father—who’d spent more time with a bottle than his own son—had been the perfect patsy. At least until I met your mother. Do you even know the lengths she went to keep her job?”

His smile was slimy.

“Oh, if you could’ve seen her then.” Martin smirked, his eyes glittering with pride. “That boy claimed to be in love with her. And she clearly enjoyed the attention. After all, when she should’ve been at home with her husband and two daughters, she was flat on her back, naked, letting that boy take pictures of her.”

“What is your point?” I snapped, not wanting to hear another word about the grotesque things my mother did with one of her students.

Martin continued as though I hadn’t spoken. “I was making a name for myself back then, and I knew an opportunity when I saw one. Who better to do my dirty work than a warped and twisted school teacher banging a student at every opportunity? Did you know I caught them in her car?”

My nose scrunched, the thought disturbing.

“In the parking lot of the school, no less. He had his head between her legs…” He laughed softly. “She wasn’t teaching him arithmetic, that’s for sure. Perhaps about the birds and the bees.”

Now he was just talking to get a rise out of me. I held back my reactions as best I could.

“Being the diligent FBI agent that I was, I did my homework on both your mother and Decker. I’d become an old pro at that point. While I was thoroughly enjoying using your mother’s fear against her, I actually needed her to help me in my endeavors. She was ripe for the plucking, desperate to clear her name.” Martin sighed. “God, she was desperate and eager.”

His smile told me he was remembering nasty shit. But why wouldn’t he? Here he was boasting about being a vile, despicable human being and proud of it.

“Oh, yeah. Your mother did good work on her knees. I found out pretty quickly what Decker saw in her.”

“That’s disgusting,” I bit out.

His smile was rife with pride. “Trust me, it was glorious. But I had more than enough whores who would service me, so your mother’s expertise wasn’t needed often. But I did have another use for her.”

“You blackmailed my mother?” I asked, hating that I needed to know the answer.

“Of course I did. It was just too easy.”

“What did you make her do?”

“I didn’t make her do anything. She volunteered.”

I seriously doubted that, but I didn’t want to argue with him.

The glitter in his eyes shifted from amusement to … well, it looked like malevolence based on the grim tilt of his mouth.

“Your mother made me a promise,” he said, his tone harsher than before. “I asked her for one fucking thing. Told her it was the last I would ever require, but she had to follow through.” His eyes narrowed on me. “She gave me her word.”

“That was her MO,” I told him, letting my repressed anger bleed into my words. “She was a selfish bitch.”