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She scowls, and I elaborate louder, "The ones he bought in Virginia." I flick my gaze to Gray. "They weren’t for me—at least, not all of them." I rub the spot he drove the needle in.
Emily slowly swivels on her heels and focuses on her helper. "You were followed?" Her voice turns void of emotion. Her mood swings are starting to freak me out; there's no indicator of what sets her off.
The tall man shrugs. "You have her now. What difference does it make?" His words are slow like he has to concentrate hard to form them.
"What. Difference? WHAT. DIFFERENCE?" she shrieks and is across the room in a flash, grabbing onto Gray’s thigh and squeezing.
He winces but won’t buckle as her nails dig into what I assume is the other stab wound.
"What else have you been hiding from me, Fran-cis?" The shrill tone has turned to an icy whisper, and I have to strain my ears to follow the conversation.
"Nothing, Em."
"What if Weiler would’ve followed you to the house, huh?"
"No one knows where you stashed the cripple."
Cripple?
My heart starts pounding, and I jump up. "What did you do with Henry?"
She doesn’t turn when she responds, eyes locked with the man she’s torturing with her talons. "I simply kept him in line. But one phone call from me and he will no longer be of your concern. Or mine."
White-hot rage surges through me, and I lunge at the woman who gave birth to me. I tear her off of Gray, but she spins and backhands me with a force that makes my head snap to the side.
"You will not touch me. I’m your mother!" she seethes at me, getting right into my face.
I slowly turn back to her. "You are not my mother," I grind out. My cheek is burning, but I refuse to raise my hand to the sting. "Heather is my mother. Hell, Payton was probably more a mother to me than you—and I never even met the woman." A voice in my head screams to shut up. Emily is obviously mentally unstable, but the words were out of my mouth before I could stop myself.
Instead of responding to my verbal attack, she flips around and takes two long strides to Gray, whose eyes widen at her sudden intrusion of his personal space. She pushes her hand between the man and the wall and pulls out...a knife?
Shit. I scurry backward as she approaches me like a predator advancing on its prey. "Do you want to repeat that, my daughter?"
I flatten myself against the wall and move sideways away from her, but she keeps following with the knife held low toward me. I can deflect a blade. That was one of the first lessons Spence taught me, but the shock of my mother coming after me with a weapon has temporarily wiped my brain of all defense moves. Before I can collect myself, Gray's arms wrap around Emily, and he stops her.
"Em, you need to calm down. If you hurt her now, she most certainly won’t sign the money over."
When did he become the voice of reason?
She lowers the knife and stops struggling. Gray seems to know that the immediate threat is over and loosens his grip.
"Sign the damn papers, and you can have Henry. That's the only reason he's still breathing anyway," she barks out before shouldering out of Gray's hold. She spins on her heel and marches out.
Gray remains in his spot for a moment longer, eyeing me. "Piece of advice, princess. I’ve known your mother all my life. You need to watch your mouth if you want to come out of here..."—he pauses and quirks an eyebrow—"with a pulse."
