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She’d said this before.
She’d made all the promises.
That she’d protect me. That she wouldn’t let my grandfather dictate my life, how I lived, where I went to school, who I hung out with, what I did after, or what I did for the rest of my life because, no matter the luxury trappings, I wouldn’t be living my life. I’d be living his.
I’d never be free.
With me, how I am, I couldn’t live like that. And until she showed up here, I’d vowed that I never would.
Things changed.
“Mom, you told me what he was going to do to you. It’s my turn to protect you. I have to do this. I’m going.”
“No.” She stepped back, letting me go. “I didn’t know you had a girl here.”
Pain sliced me. I waved that off. “She’s nothing.”
“She’s not nothing. I know you. I gave birth to you. I know when you’re hurting and when you care, when you don’t want to show it, and that girl meant something to you. You’ve never let anyone in except Cohen, his sister, and Alex. Those are the only three Miles have mentioned. He didn’t mention her. That says everything.”
“Stop. Okay?”
“No.” She was vehement. There was a new look in her gaze. A look that I’d never seen before, not once in my whole life. She shook her head, a tear falling all the way to the floor. I doubted she knew it was there. “You’ve been saying it for a long time, and I’ve not been listening. I was too scared, but knowing you have a chance at happiness—it’s my time to do something. I’m so sorry, Scout. I’m so sorry.” More tears fell. She still didn’t know they were there, and she began to turn for the door. “I’m going to fix this. I’m going to fix everything.”
“Mom—”
She rushed out, her door slamming shut a moment later.
I could go to her. Yeah. I could be that son. Going in. Telling her to stop whatever she was thinking because it was fleeting. That was how she was.
My grandfather had always been controlling. He’d always been an asshole. He’d always been abusive in his way, and she folded every time. I grew up with that, watching that, watching how he treated her, how it paralyzed her, and she had moments like this.
She never followed through.
She wouldn’t follow through this time, so when she showed up here with a bruise on her arm, and knowing there were more on her body that she was hiding, it’d been enough.
He’d gotten physical. He’d do it again, and I couldn’t let that happen.
Ramsay . . . It hurt. It did. It really did, but this was best for us. For me. She said it, but I’d known the second my mom had shown up.
I was letting go of us, what ‘us’ there had been because it was my turn. I was tagging my mom out. I’d go in, live the life my grandfather wanted for me, and he’d leave her alone. That was the deal I was going to make with him.
I went back to doing what I’d been doing.
I finished packing.
78
RAMSAY
I refused to cry. Refused to, but my God, I couldn’t stop my hands from shaking as I sent out the text to Theresa.
Me: Where’s Gem? 911
Theresa: At Mario’s. She’s filling in for a cousin.
I tossed my phone aside and drove, still fighting back the tears but knowing my chin was trembling and that was because of Scout. Him.
I was over guys hurting me. Completely over them.
He’d—tears streaked down, and I tasted one. Gah.
My phone was buzzing on the passenger seat, but I was only focused on getting there. I had to make it right with Gem. It’d all been an accident. A miscommunication. Surely, she’d see that? She wouldn’t hold it against me?
I needed a friend. A non-cousin friend, who’d listen and agree that Scout should go to hell. Tequila might help too.
I got there, pulled in to the back door, and Gem was stepping out, frowning down at her phone before she lifted her head. I must’ve looked a sight because her eyes widened. Her mouth dropped open. I could almost hear her gasp through my closed windows before she stuffed her phone in her pocket and came running to me.
I’d just turned the engine off as she opened my door, and she was right there. Kneeling down. Her hands on my face, wiping my tears away. “Dios mío. Are you okay? What’s happened?”
I couldn’t undo the seatbelt. It was imperative I get out of the car, but the seatbelt wouldn’t move an inch. I cursed, almost punching it.
“Ramsay. Stop.” She was so gentle, moving my hand aside and unhooking my belt. Then I was in her arms. I didn’t know if I launched myself at her or if she yanked me out, but either way, my arms were tight around her and she was hugging me back just as hard.
