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But by now he was afraid to even say that.
Chapter Twenty
Ruth got through the day by keeping her mind carefully empty. She hadn’t done anything wrong. She and Liam had had a disagreement. Worse than that—she and Liam had had a fight, a serious one. But it wasn’t her fault. He didn’t understand the problem, didn’t understand why David was a threat.
She couldn’t have a relationship with somebody who couldn’t see the danger she was facing. And she couldn’t have a relationship with somebody who already had one foot out the door. It was that simple.
But it wasn’t simple at all. Her whole body ached with misery. But she couldn’t think about that. She couldn’t think about anything Liam had said. If she did, she might back down, and who knew what would happen after that?
You have to stay strong, for Carol’s sake. You can’t let your guard down.
She fixed Carol’s supper on autopilot, only half listening to her talk about the customers at the deli that day. The only time she’d been focused on anything except not thinking about Liam had been when Carol wanted to use the slicer. Ruth had focused all her concentration on the way her daughter put on her chain-mail gloves and sliced mortadella with elaborate care. At least it had given her something to concentrate on other than her own idiocy.
Because she was an idiot. When she’d stopped coming up with excuses, she’d had to admit it. She’d gone after Liam for no reason except that he’d tried to be reasonable and she wasn’t ready for that. But maybe that was the point. Maybe she wasn’t ready to let him help. And then she’d driven him off. She’d thrown away the last couple of weeks they could have together.
Her brain kept supplying images of the things she’d done with Liam. Things she’d definitely miss if she’d ended their relationship.
Stop it. You’re making yourself crazy. Crazier. There was no relationship. It was just a fling. Concentrate on Carol.
Of course, concentrating on Carol meant facing the fact that her daughter was still furious. And she hadn’t come up with a better way to explain why she didn’t want her to go to California. Liam’s argument—she’ll see what he’s like and maybe come back here knowing he’s an asshole—kept echoing in her mind.
No. I can’t let her go. It’s too dangerous. I can’t even think about it.
She ran a hand over her face, trying to stave off the exhaustion weighing down her shoulders. She’d sent Liam away for good reason. He wasn’t helping her fight, and she needed to concentrate on her daughter. She couldn’t give David a toehold anywhere. He’d run right over her.
“Mom?”
Carol’s voice penetrated the fog in her mind, and she looked up from the table. “What?”
Carol was staring at her with narrowed eyes, as if she wasn’t sure her mother was functioning the way she was supposed to. Which was no more than the truth. “Can I watch Dad’s show on TV tonight?”
“Which one?”
“The comedy. The one about the family in the sixties.”
Ruth nodded. “That one’s okay.”
“Good. I’m all done with dinner. Can I be excused?”
“Sure.” She glanced down at her own plate. Most of it was untouched. She had no appetite, yet another thing to thank David for. Or maybe she should thank her own stubbornness.
She thought about joining Carol in the living room, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. No way was she going to watch a show produced by a rat bastard.
The doorbell rang as she was loading the dishwasher. Her heart jumped. Liam. Except, it wouldn’t be him. Not after the fight they’d had.
She wasn’t entirely surprised to see David on the front porch. Nor was she surprised to see that he was carrying a box with “Xbox” printed on the side.
Of course, you bought it, you son of a bitch.
He gave her one of his superior smirks. “Where’s Carol?”
“Watching your show. If you want to attach that thing to the TV, you’ll have to turn it off.” She turned away, heading back into the house.
After a moment, David followed.
“If it bugs you that I’m giving her a present, think of it as an early birthday gift.” He didn’t always remember to send Carol a birthday gift, so maybe this was meant to make up for his erratic attention span.
