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Frantic, I hit the door over and over, until my knuckles were throbbing.
No answer.
Shit! What should I do? The only thing I could think of was something stupid I’d seen in movies, but at this point I was ready to try anything. I ran back along our hallway and took a running leap straight into the door, kicking out my foot with all my strength. I guess although the door was made of thick, solid wood, the lock was weak, because it burst open, sending me hurtling into the room.
I fell to my knees.
No.
No.
No.
She was lying on the floor, on her side, one arm outstretched and her bottle of pills spilling out on the floor in front of her. She looked like she was asleep, but her skin had lost all colour, looking like a waxwork version of the living, breathing woman that was the most important person in my life.
I stumbled across the floor, barely aware of what I was doing. I reached out for her hand and clasped it in mine, knowing it was too late as soon as I touched her.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
An inhuman scream burst from my lungs, and stabbing pain raced through my body, taking my breath away. I curled into a ball, still clasping her hand, my eyes squeezed shut, my brain going offline.
I wasn’t aware of what happened after that.
“Caiden!”
I opened my eyes to find my brother crouched in front of me, dripping wet, worry clear in his eyes. I realised I was sitting on the decking, my head in my hands, my whole fucking body shaking.
Fuck.
“I’m fine. I guess I drank more than I thought. Guess that’s my cue to go to bed.” I forced a laugh.
Weston eyed me cautiously. “Cade…” His voice trailed off as I shot him a warning look. He could say or do whatever the fuck he wanted, but I was never telling him what had happened to our mother. I wanted his memories of her to be pure, untainted.
As far as he was aware, she’d died of a sudden brain haemorrhage, and that was how it was going to stay. It was pretty much the only area where me and my dad were in complete agreement. My dad felt a sense of guilt—not enough to get rid of the bitch, but he at least cared enough about Weston to try and stop him feeling the fucking crushing failure and regret I felt.
Why hadn’t I done something sooner?
She’d still be alive.
I launched to my feet, turning towards the house, needing to be inside, and alone.
“Caiden?”
A pair of slim arms encircled my waist, and I saw red.
“Get the fuck away from me, right now. We fucked—that doesn’t give you the right to touch me. You’re the last person I want near me.”
She flinched, immediately dropping her arms, and I laughed cruelly, letting the hatred for her mother seep through me, filling me, smothering the pain of losing my mother.
“You’re nothing to me. You weren’t even a good lay.”
She gasped, and I cringed internally, because that was an outright lie. I hated admitting it, but fucking her had been the best sex of my life.
My dick needed to get the memo that it was never going to happen again.
