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Connie flopped back onto the bed, squeezing the bridge of her nose tightly. “And why exactly is this a cause for an intervention? Archie's attending her therapy sessions, she's recovering well from what happened in March, and she's happy with Jasper. If anything, it sounds like she's giving him a hint, Liam.”
“Oh, he took the hint. That's why we're intervening. He wants to propose.”
Happiness tried so, so hard to rise above the quagmire of shit she floundered in. She could feel the barest kiss of it against her skin before it sank beneath her own misery. “I'm surprised he's waited this long. She's made for him, and he for her. I really don't think any of us need to stick our noses into his business.”
“Well, sticking them in is what we're all good at,” he retorted cheerfully. “You need to be here by eight, Connie.”
“Eight? I thought you said nine?”
“The intervention is at nine. We're all meeting at eight so that we can run through our battle plans. When it comes to lovesick Jasper, we need to be prepared. Whoops, gotta run. Delivery van has just pulled up with our weekly supply of condoms, lube, and replacement toys,” he all but cackled in delight. “I ordered some fancy new ones for a change. Thought I'd spice things up. See you soon.”
Before she could tell him she was staying home tonight, he put the phone down. Asshole. Connie sighed and checked the time on her now blank screen, cursing as she realized she only had thirty minutes to get ready before making the drive out to Avalon…if she wanted to be on time. She should go really, if only to stop the idiot men from saying or doing something that messed up a relationship that had been almost a year in the making.
Christ, she was thirty-four. How did she get so tired and jaded, and just…sick of life?
She didn't know, and worse, couldn't see a way out of it.
*
Showered and dressed, with her hair twisted up into a delicate tawny knot, Connie hammered on Alicia's door with a fist and hoped the two Advil she'd thrown back with a glass of juice would keep the migraine at bay. Music continued to pound the walls; Connie could only be thankful for the distance between houses on her block.
“Come on, Alicia, open up!” she called, trying not to shout. She gave her another minute, then said, “Fuck it,” and opened the door herself. Her heart sank further to see the thin girl in the wheelchair, sitting by the window. The room was dark, the blinds open, and Alicia stared out into the night with a look on her face that said she wished she could just fly away.
Connie knew exactly how she felt.
“Lisha,” she murmured, feeling the sharp sting of her failure. She'd agreed to take in the girl because she couldn't bear to think of her stuck in a hospital or a facility, alone. The girl had killed her parents, for reasons no one could assign blame, and yet no matter what Connie did—all the tricks of her trade, all her years of experience—couldn't get Alicia to open up about that night or the decades of abuse before it.
Connie walked inside, wincing against the music threatening to blast her eardrums out. She switched it off, hitting the power button on the sound system and taking a moment to bask in the blessed silence that followed.
Alicia's head turned slowly, and in the light from the hall, Connie saw hollow blue eyes focus on her. “Connie.”
“Hey, sweetheart. Did you have a nice afternoon with Atticus?” Connie walked over and dropped into a crouch in front of her, rubbing her hand on a painfully thin thigh. “He said he brought pizza. You didn't let him eat it all, did you?”
Slim lips twitched in a pale example of a smile. “He made me eat two pieces.”
“That's good. He likes spending time with you.”
Those beautiful blue eyes, so like Bodie's, drifted away again, back to the window. “He's nice.”
“One of the best men I know. I'm going out now, sweetheart. Penny should be here any minute; she'll help you get a shower and organize dinner, okay? You both have my number, you can call me anytime if you need me to come home.” Trying to get Alicia to engage, Connie added, “I can take you over to see Bodie tomorrow if you like? The weather forecast looks good, and the doctor's given the okay for visitors. It would cheer her up; I know she misses you.”
Alicia's shoulders slumped. “Yeah. Maybe.”
“We can discuss it in the morning. There's no rush.” The doorbell rang. “That's Penny. There's some cash in the usual place if you decide you want takeout. For God's sake, don't let her hack into the porn channels again, okay? Her mother read me the riot act last time.”
This time, she got an actual, if exceptionally brief, smile. “We're both adults, Connie. I'm twenty-four now and Penny—”
“Penny is only a year younger, I know. But when she goes home and starts asking her mother questions like, how can a woman fit two penises in her vagina, her mother begins to wonder what on earth goes on here when I'm not around.” God forbid the woman ever discover whereConnie went on a night—her excuse so far had been taking night classes in the city. “Just keep the porn to one-on-one. Please?”
“I'll keep her on the straight and fairly narrow,” Alicia promised. Her frail hand moved to sit on top of Connie's, cold fingers giving it a faint squeeze. “Thank you, Connie.”
The doorbell rang again, a little impatiently this time. Connie leaned forward and brushed her lips over a raised cheekbone. “Don't thank me, Lisha. You don't need to thank me. I love you.” She rose and flicked on the lamp that rested on the bedside table beside the window. “I don't like you sitting in the dark, sweetheart.”
“Yes, Mom. Go, stop fussing. Have a good night.”
Connie let her fingers skim over Alicia's black fall of hair as she walked away. Before she left the room, she said, “And no keg parties while I'm gone!”
She heard the squeak of Alicia's wheelchair as it rolled across the room, and a second later, the music started up again. As Connie hurried down the hallway to the front door, she was relieved that the girl had eaten. Saying that, with Atticus in charge, Alicia likely had no choice in the matter. The man was a Daddy Dom through and through—tending stubborn little subs was his mission in life.
