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“Hey, Raven, how about you go find Dad, okay?” I run my hand over her silky black hair and nudge her down the hall. “And take Myrtle with you, please.” When she turns toward the stairs, I stand back up. “Just me tonight, Scar.”
She gently shakes her head and wraps an arm around my shoulder. “Well, at least you did one thing right.”
She walks me into the kitchen like it’s my walk down the green mile, and my mom and Lenny both stand waiting for me at the end. The only one missing is—
My brother’s wife, Juliette, comes out of the basement with two bottles of wine in her hands. “Found them.” She looks from Mom to me and hands me the bottles. “How about you pour us some wine, and then you can fill us in on how exactly you became my pseudo-daughter-in-law.”
I take both bottles from her and glance at my mother, who hasn’t said a word to me. “Have you talked to Easton?” My voice shakes, betraying my nerves.
Easton and Kenzie moved in with Juliette and my brother Becket when their mom died years ago. E and Juliette have always had a special relationship, which according to Kenzie, has only gotten stronger over the years.
“I’ve talked to his voice mail, if that counts. But he hasn’t called me back. So I thought it would be better to come straight to the source. Right now, that’s you, kiddo. And I figured someone needed to be here to stop your mother and Scarlet from murdering you.” Juliette hands me the bottle opener and looks at my mom.
“I thought that wasmyjob,” Lenny offers, but I ignore her and face the music, also known as my mother.
“Hi, Mom.”
The mask of indifference she’s wearing slips and her exasperated glare zeroes in on me. “What were you thinking?” Her tone is sharp enough to cut glass.
This is going to be so much worse than I thought.
My entire life, I’ve been the good girl.
The one who always did the right thing and always did what I was told.
I spent a lifetime building a level of trust with Brandon and her.
And in one night, I destroyed that.
“Madeline... I... I just don’t.” She rips one of the bottles out of my hands and turns her back on me as she opens it herself. Once she fills her glass and swallows it in three gulps, she turns back slowly. “I’m trying to stay calm, but I’m not sure I can,” she tells me, slightly more in control than she was a moment ago. “I don’t understand what you were thinking. Are you acting out? Are you on drugs? Is this because you gave up skating and now you’re floundering, trying to figure out what you want to do with your life?”
Ouch. That hurts.
“I need you to explain this to me because I’m having a really hard time trying to understand what in the ever-loving hell you were thinking.” She gasps and covers her mouth. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”
“No, I’m definitely not pregnant,” I answer, mortified.
“Ashlyn,” Lenny whispers, and Mom’s fiery eyes fly to hers.
Len takes the other bottle from my hands as I stand there, frozen in place, certain my mother has never been this disappointed in me before. “Sit down, Lindy.” She pulls out one of the counter stools and pushes me into it, then pours me a glass of wine.
“That’s it, Len. Reward her with more alcohol. Because I’m sure she didn’t have enough last night when she married Easton in a dirty chapel in Las Vegas,” Scarlet taunts and yanks the bottle out of Lenny’s hands, then sets her sights on me. “If you’d at least warned me, I could have gotten in front of this with the press. Haven’t we taught you anything?”
“The press?” I squeak. Then I think about thePhilly Pressand ESPN articles I saw earlier. Son of a bitch. If there’s already two, there’s bound to be more.
“Yes, Madeline,” Mom snaps like one of those dragons fromGame of Thronesbefore it opens its mouth and decimates an entire city with one fiery breath. “Thepress. You are one of the wealthiest heiresses in the entire country. An Olympic gold medalist. You have how many million social-media followers? Did you think the press wouldn’t take notice when you married the boy who saved your life? The one who happens to be one of the top goalies in the entire hockey league and whose social-media presence rivals yours?”
Lenny sips her wine. “Maybe if Everly hadn’t posted a picture.”
“Maybe if that stupid Kroydon Kronicles column wasn’t obsessed with the whole group of you...” Juliette adds.
“Or maybe if you had behaved like an adult instead of a reckless, irresponsible child.” My mother levels me with a hard stare.
“You know what?” I slowly stand, attempting to hide my rapidly shredding confidence. I should tell them to back off. That I’m twenty-three and have never given them a reason not to trust me or my judgment. Remind them that it’s Easton, and he’d never do anything to hurt me. But I can’t.
Although, I think I needed that last reminder myself.
For a hot second, I think about telling them all to shut up.
