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From now on, my main goals were to collect embarrassing stories, go in search of the key to my room, and avoid Ares like a shady car dealer.
My shoulders sagged. It was the exact reason why I’d come along with Mom. I didn’t want to hide anymore, and I was tired of being afraid and having to look over my shoulder for any imminent danger.
Cary narrowed his eyes while he thumbed the glass condensation on his glass. “A Volt is mostly up to no good.” He popped abrow and playfully ribbed my mother. “I should know. I am one.”
Mom frowned at him, but her smile lingered anyway. Cary swung his arm around her shoulders before swiftly kissing her, pulling her against his chest to turn that kiss into a deeper one.
While grossed out but mostly happy for them, I watched them silently make out as I placed my chin into my palm. I was glad they’d found each other. They looked good together. I just wasn’t used to seeing this level of affection. Not even when my parents had been together. It hadn’t been my dad’s fault he wasn’t all cozy. His autism should’ve been diagnosed way earlier, but it hadn’t been. And it was hard to understand as a thirteen-year-old when your dad thought a pat on the head was sufficient for physical affection.
Clearly, Cary didn’t have the same problem with showing affection that my father had.
From what I’d heard, Cary had filled up the tabloids with all kinds of debauchery, but not as of late. He’d toned down a lot, exchanging alcohol, wild as shit times and horny groupie bitches—his words, not mine—for a lifetime of traveling, music, and his wife Stella.
Even rock legends seemed to have a soft spot.
I couldn’t remember one moment in our lives that Sergio Dominguez had handled us with such care. Or—oh, my God, mother!
I quickly averted my eyes and pleaded they’d stop making out like teenagers behind the bleachers.
“No, really.” Mom cleared her throat and pried Cary off her, training her attention at me while he looked at her with googly eyes. Cute. “How are you settling in, amore?”
Amore.
Okay, I forgive her for embarrassing me. It was good to hear her call me that after days spent in my room, alone and afraid someone could come barge in any second of the day.
“Oh, great.”
Super great. I totally didn’t have a confrontation with my stepbrother while I was soaking in his bathtub.
Cary refilled my glass of wine after that diplomatic answer. I thanked him and restrained myself from gulping it down. But I still managed to choke when the light hit his eyes, pupils flashing silver.
I coughed, sounding like a seal. Mom offered her plaid napkin while Cary came over to gently slap my back and waved off a waiter who came to check upon me. Tears sprang into my eyes as the acid burned in my throat.
“Mierda!” I cursed in Spanish, like I always did when I was upset.
“Dita!” Mom scolded me but she kept her lips curled in so she wouldn’t laugh. “We’re in a restaurant.”
Cary shrugged. “Don’t mind them, baby girl.” I blushed at the nickname. Another thing my dad never did. “They should be glad my boys decided not to come with.”
Yup. Undoubtedly.
He pinched my shoulder and leaned down, so he was on my eye level. “You alright?”
I nodded and he smiled, those crow feet at the corners of his eyes crinkling. I really did like him. He wasn’t all “oh, I know I’m not your dad, but…” No, he genuinely cared. I could understand Mom falling for him.
She was marrying him tomorrow.
My gut instinct confirmed his good-nature when he approached the next subject.
“That being said,” Cary continued, sitting back down in his seat, “they both signed. So, you shouldn’t worry about them too much.”
They both signed.
I gave them a soft smile, pretending to feel put at ease.
Did they do it before or after I’d arrived at the house? Because besides it initially being a job contract—housekeeping two days a week since the previous housekeeper retired a couple of months ago— there was one section in particular my mom and Cary thought should be involved. I didn’t really think it was necessary, though. Statistically, it would be impossible to get attacked twice in four months and in a different state, right? And even though Ares already made me vulnerable again, I couldn’t ask Mom and Cary to move in with them. As newlyweds, I would be in their space. Right before he got married, Cary had chosen to buy a two-bedroom penthouse. They wouldn’t be home much anyway, with all that traveling, and why need a three-storage house when you had two bad boys big enough to leave it to? It also gave me the opportunity to move in with them.
I needed to find that key.
