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“Yes, you do. Because abuse doesn’t just end when the person is no longer there. And what happens if she does all the right things that get her out of the hospital? I don’t want your mother sitting in a jail cell for murdering you. Like my father.”
My fingers stopped, and my eyes widened as I still stared at the scar. The last little puzzle piece clicked into place. I swallowed. “Are you saying your mom is dead?”
His response was drawn out, the answer too morbid. “Yes. One night he beat me too badly, and Mom finally stepped in to stop him. He shoved her away, and she hit her head too hard. She wouldn’t wake up. That’s the only reason I was able to move in with Aunt Laura.”
“I’m sorry,” I choked out.
“It’s in the past.” The gruffness in his voice said otherwise. I almost rolled over to pull him into a hug. Almost. “But you’re not in the past, Cadence. We are going to help you. We will make sure she can never touch you again.”
“It doesn’t matter. Like I said, she’s already getting help. And when I graduate, she’ll never be able to touch me again.”
“What if she kills you before then?”
I snorted. “How? She can’t get to me. I have everything set up. I’m safe now.”
“I’m sorry, I’m having trouble believing that. She can play the long game, pretend to get well, then she’s released and she can come for you.”
“She won’t kill me. I’m her support, the reason she can live in any kind of comfort. And once the end of the year comes, I’m completely free of her. I’ve fulfilled my duty, paid back everything I owe her.”
“What do you mean?”
I sighed. “My dad left because of me. Because I couldn’t keep my stupid little mouth shut. It broke Lindie, it was what drove her over the edge. I figured I’ll let her have her safety net until I’m eighteen and done with school. It’s the least I can do for her. When I’m eighteen, I have it set up so that she’ll go into a facility with long-term care. They’ll work with her to get over her depression and to live with her issues. They’ll take care of her and do what I couldn’t do for her: help her through her trauma. The hospital she’s at now is only temporary, the minimum of what she needs if she doesn’t want to end up in a jail cell. Once she’s better, I’ll set her up in a house away from here. This town destroyed her.”
“Trauma?” Justin snorted.
I nodded but refused to expand on what I meant. He didn’t need to know. I was already getting too close to the full story.
Sighing, I glared at the cloud still inching across the sky. I wanted to stay here longer, get lost in the timelessness of this spot. But life wasn’t going to wait for me. “I have to go meet with a client now. Want me to drop you off at school or your house?” I sat up and got to my feet. Justin followed as we walked back to my car.
“Just drop me off at Seth’s.”
I nodded and we got back into my car, heading out. Justin had given me a lot to absorb. To think he had such a rough history. To think we were so similar. The only difference was that he got to get to know his little sister.
I never even had the chance to meet mine.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I dropped Justin off at Seth’s, neither of us bringing up what we had talked about. It was too intimate for me to ever be able to voice again. Both of us had opened up wounds, and if I felt as raw and vulnerable as I did, then I had to wonder how Justin was doing. I didn’t see Seth’s truck, so I waited until I knew Justin could get inside, then I pulled out and headed to the meeting with Laurens.
The directions led me onto the main strip of Coronac Falls. His company was big, and by my research, only a branch office. Why it was out here in a small town wasn’t anything I was going to try to understand. Either way, it was big enough to have its own parking lot. I squeezed in between cars and locked my car, making sure I had all my materials with me.
I stared at my laptop case, trying to ignore the way my stomach coiled. This would be the first big project I’d set up without Lindie there acting as my manager. She wasn’t a good mother, and she was a slave driver, but she was a good business woman. Setting up contracts to be more favorable to me rather than the clients was easy for her. I was going to have to consider hiring someone if I was going to continue with this profession.
After forcing my nerves to disappear, I headed inside. The building itself was three stories high, red bricked, and extended the width of the block. The automatic doors slid open as I got closer, giving me a clear view of the receptionist right in the front. Pasting on a polite smile, I approached her. She looked a little familiar, but I’d met so many people throughout the years that I couldn’t really place her. She was pristine, her hair in a tight bun, her clothes professional. Her makeup was minimal but effective in drawing out her attractive features, highlighting her hazel eyes and full lips. She had to be in her late twenties, comfortable with her life.
“How may I help you?” she asked in a professional voice, the words well practiced.
“I have an appointment with Mr. Laurens.”
Her eyes lit up. “Ah! Miss Wiles. He’s waiting for you. Hold on.”
She picked up her phone, dialed an extension, and briefly talked into it while I tuned her out, taking in the interior decoration. He had some expensive paintings on the walls, definitely to impress clients.
I still didn’t get it. A place like this should have been in New York City or in Albany. Not so far north, in the middle of nothing but mountains and farms.
“He will be right down; you may have a seat.”
I nodded and stood in the little waiting area, not bothering to sit down. I looked around, taking in the different ways I could escape if I needed to. Being here to see Laurens was setting me on edge for some reason. And long ago, I learned to follow my instincts. Something wasn’t right with this place.
