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“Not me. And the hundred grand went to my parents.”
“What did your parents need it for?” Stephanie asks.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say. I don’t really want to get into it. It’s clear Kim has made up her mind about me. A sob story from me isn’t going to change that.
“What, they made you pay them back for some huge bill you racked up?” Kim asks with a huff of disgust. “You wreck your convertible? Hobble your prize pony?”
Well, fine then. If she wants to know so badly. “Actually, they got sick,” I tell her coldly. “Really sick. My mom with dementia, my dad with Parkinson’s. They both needed round-the-clock care for years.”
“Oh,” Stephanie whispers softly. “I’m so sorry. Are they—?”
“Dead now, yeah. By the time it happened, it was almost for the best, you know? They were both suffering a lot.” I turn toward Kim, my eyes narrowing. I’m waiting for her to make a snotty comment, so I’m surprised when I find her expression guarded and sad.
“My mom has Parkinson’s, too,” Kim says quietly.
My anger melts away. Her attitude, her coldness, all makes sense; she’s going through some tough shit, and she’s forced to watch all of these people parade around like a reality show is the most important thing in the world. That has to be tough. I smile at her sadly. “So you know. It’s fucking awful.”
“It is,” she replies.
“How are you affording her care, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Kim sighs, rubbing her forehead as if she’s got a million things on her mind, which she probably does. “I have a big family. We all take turns. Chipping in.”
“I’m glad to hear it, though I know it doesn’t make it any easier.”
“Yeah. You didn’t have any family to help?”
I shake my head, then wince as I realize that my movement hasn’t helped either of them. Somehow I had forgotten they were both working on making me camera ready. “Sorry, I’ll stay still,” I say sheepishly.
“It’s all right,” Kim replies, a little more kindly. They work in silence for a few moments, and I let my mind wander. I wonder what’s going on with Arlo and Reese. Are they ok? Where would they go? I guess Arlo has a place, but would Reese be forced to go back to prison? The idea makes me feel sick to my stomach.
Trying to distract myself, I say to Kim and Stephanie, “Tell me about the mansion. Are people happy here?”
The two women glance at each other before getting back to their work. “Let’s put it this way,” Kim says at last, “You get into this place what you put into it. For better, or for worse.”
Chapter Nineteen
~Reese~
“What did you say to her, Reese?” Arlo hisses.
“I said what I needed to say to get her to leave.” She had pushed me to the limit, of course. I had to pull out all the stops — go for the meanest, cruelest thing I could think of to say. And it worked. Now I could never take it back.
“Let me go after her!” Arlo yells, pushing on my chest urgently.
I don’t answer. I’m blocking the door with my body, watching out the side window as Haven follows Derek to the car waiting on the street. She looks back at the house, tears trailing down her gorgeous face, and my heart clenches. Every instinct inside me is telling me that I’m making a mistake; that Haven belongs to me and to Arlo, and she needs to be with us, stay with us. But I’ve learned far too much from my time in prison; I know all too well how the world really works. If she stays with me, she’ll have no future. I’m the pathetic one, that’s the truth.
“Explain to me what you thought this would accomplish,” Arlo says.
With a growl, I turn to face him. “I thought it would get her out of my hair, and you’re next.”
“Oh really?” Arlo says, crossing those muscled arms across his chest and jutting out his chin like he’s gonna brawl with me.
I have to bite back a smile as I remember the way he used to do that as a kid. He and his brother both. Didn’t matter if they were smaller than their attacker. Didn’t matter if they were outnumbered. The Cassa brothers never backed down.
Arlo keeps talking, “I think you’ll find that I’m hard to get rid of, Reese Tribbi. My name is on all your paperwork as your sponsor.” He leans closer and pushes a finger into my chest. “I’m in charge of you, sweet thing. That means that either you stick with me, or you go back to prison. I don’t know what you were thinking, letting Haven go like that, but we need to make it right.”
“I did what needed to be done,” I growl, turning back to the window just in time to see the car pull away. It’s as if my heart is going with her; a piece of who I am. I swallow hard. This is the right thing to do. Giving Arlo a cold look, I say, “As for the sponsorship, do you really think you’ll still be in charge of anything now? Your secret is out.”
