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Frustration and anger shorten my patience. “He’s a billionaire, mother. He doesn’t need anything from this family.”
“He’s not a billionaire.”
“Yes,” I say. “He is.”
“It doesn’t matter what he is or isn’t.Weare your family. He is not.”
That pisses me off. Now, she’s doing what the rest of this family has done to Eric and that’s not the person I know. She doesn’t hurt people. “He’sfamily. He’s a Kingston. He’s blood. We aren’t. Don’t act like them. You’re not one of them.”
“Wearethem,” she says, driving home every accusation Eric has ever made toward me.
“We arenot them.” And because I don’t want her to say anything else to hurt him when this family has done nothing but that, I turn to face Eric. My hand settles on his chest, my need to touch him, to let him know that I’m with him, not them, absolutely. “I’m sorry,” I say, my eyes meeting his, my hope that he sees the truth in my words, in all that I have told him, in them.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” he promises softly.
“Yes, there is,” I say, wishing he’d touch me. I really want him to touch me, especially since I know I have to speak to my mother alone to get her to see reason. “Can you give us just a minute?”
“Of course,” he says, his tone and stare unreadable, that hardness that is so a part of this man, back and etched in his handsome face. His blue eyes cold, ice I know is meant for the Kingstons, and now I’m a Kingston to him again. I hate that ice. “I’ll be in the kitchen,” he adds.
“Don’t leave,” I whisper urgently, my fingers closing around his shirt and I don’t care if my mother hears. I add, “Please. Her words are not mine.”
The ice in those eyes of his, warms, the hard edge of his mood softening as he covers my hand with his. “I’m not going anywhere.” He tightens his grip. “Let me know if you need me.” He releases me and turns to walk down the hallway.
“Are you sleeping with him?” my mother snaps at my back with Eric still within hearing distance. Honestly, I’m fairly certain he will hear everything from the kitchen anyway.
“That has nothing to do with this,” I say, whirling on her.
“That’s not a no. You are.”
“He’s helping us. How about being glad that he’s that kind of man? That he actually came here to help.”
“He didn’t come to help. Your father says—”
“My father isdead. Gone. And your husband is letting everything he worked for, including your future, get wiped away. You could go to jail.”
“We are not going to jail. No one did anything wrong.”
“You could actually,” I say. “People died, mother. If there were choices made that ignored risk to human life—”
“Stop,” my mother says now. “Stop right now. That didn’t happen.”
“And you know this how? Because even Gigi is scared. She wanted Eric here.”
“Gigi hates him.”
“Gigi was afraid of him when she should have embraced the one person in this family that has his shit together.”
She steps closer and actually grabs my arm, lowering her voice. “Gigi treated him horribly,” she whispers. “I didn’t know he was a billionaire, but I knew he was powerful. He’ll try to take everything. Don’t let him use you to do it.”
“Don’t turn him into the monster. People didn’t die on his watch.”
“You don’t know what you’re diving into here,” she warns. “You have no idea.”
Those words come with such conviction that I narrow my eyes on her. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“There’s nothing to tell,” she says. “You’re creating problems that don’t have to exist. My God, Harper, fuck him out of your system and send him home. Please. I beg of you.”
I feel those words like a slap. My mother doesn’t say things like that. Ever. “What aren’t you telling me?” I repeat.
