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“If it’s worth anything, I feel like you were a good mom.”
A laugh in disbelief came from her. Still so soft, but it was there. It was a small break from whatever punishment she was feeling at that moment.
“No, I mean it.” I tried to think of my own mother, what she would be doing if I had chosen that route. “I don’t think my mom would be crying about me in some room with a stranger. She’d be bawling her eyes out at my gravesite, with press scheduled to arrive. I’m sure she’d call them and make sure they timed it just right, catching her breaking down or something.”
Beth laughed, still crying. “Your mom’s a bitch.”
“True that,” I grunted.
“Look.” She shook her head again and lifted her gaze. Big teardrops were there, hugging the underside of her eyes and filling up to fall down, but she ignored them. “I just wanted to let you know I’m not the enemy. Regardless of what happens with your father, because you’re right, I don’t know his history with you or what appalling behavior he might choose, if he will leave at the end or not. I just wanted to let you know that I admire your fight. You’re a survivor. It’s something I wish I had more of in me.” She moved forward and grabbed my hands. Pressing them to her chest, she lifted a hand to my cheek. Her hand rested there lightly. A look passed in her eyes, one that I could only conceive as mothering and loving before her hand fell away. She stepped backward and murmured, “You’ll come out of this swinging. I have no doubt.”
Then she turned and left.
I had no idea what had just happened, but a different sensation had dug inside my chest. No, it wasn’t digging. It was filling me up.
“Yo!” Denton popped into the room. A bright pink towel was around his shoulders as he only wore board shorts and sandals. “Oh good. You found the margarita mix. I’d forgotten where that was.”
I laughed to myself, shaking my head. I felt loved, and it came from someone who I had been a bitch to. Now I really needed a margarita.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I went out to the pool, but restlessness had settled in. Bryce was there, wearing his black swimming trunks, laughing with Denton. Then he posed at the edge of the pool and jumped in, his back muscles rippling from the movement. His dive was smooth, barely a ripple in the pool, and an anchor dropped to my gut.
I had to get out of there.
Had to, or I was going to go crazy.
Denton was about to jump in when Bryce
pulled himself up from the side, standing back up on the concrete again. He raked a hand over his face, wiping the excess water off, and he frowned at me. Oh yes, indeed. A vacuuming effect was going on inside me. I felt like he was sucking me in, pulling me to him with just a look.
“What’s wrong?”
“I need to go,” I croaked. “Somewhere. I have to get out of this house.”
Denton started laughing. “You’re kidding, right?”
Bryce just frowned. For some reason, I felt like he understood what was going on with me and because he did, he closed his eyes and turned away. I frowned. Maybe he didn’t know. Maybe that was in my head and he had no clue what was going on with me—no, that was me. I had no clue what I was doing. I started to wave my hands in the air. “Guys, I have to get out of here. I feel locked up, and we have to go, do something, be somewhere else. I just need,” I skimmed the walls of Denton’s estate, “outside of this fortress.”
“Corrigan and Mena are still at school.”
“Good.” I snapped my fingers in the air and turned back around for the house. “Let’s go there.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Denton sprinted so he cut me off at the door. He had his hands up, as if to physically hold me back. “Are you thinking this through?”
I lifted my shoulders up and held them suspended in the air. “I have no idea. I don’t care. I’m beyond caring. I just have to get out of this house.” A throb started deep inside me. I knew without looking that Bryce had drifted over to us. The closer he got, the deeper that throb burrowed.
Visions of grabbing him and throwing him against the wall were filling my mind up. They were very clear images. I could feel the smoothness of his skin under my hands, how he would be surprised at first, then he would catch on and reverse our positions. I would be the one pressed against the wall and his mouth—I swallowed tightly, dear holy balls—his mouth would settle between my breasts. A lump was in my throat. I was having trouble swallowing around it, but my imagination kept going.
Bryce would slowly lower himself down to his knees, his mouth going with him, trailing kisses in a pathway, all the way down between my—”Let’s go!” I burst out, needing to change my thought process.
I pushed past Denton and hurried to my room. After changing, I waited at the front door. Denton and Bryce both showed up not long after that and soon a car pulled up to the front. When the driver got out and opened the back door for us, I almost started laughing.
“What?” Denton paused beside me.
“We can’t go in that.” I gestured to the car.
“Why not?”
