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Here I was being bitchy to the guy for helping us. “Nice one, Ry,” I muttered, and leaned back against the end of the bed.
The heavy thud of footsteps stopped at the landing.
My pulse pounded harder, sending a pang across my chest, until those resounding steps started once more, only this time they came closer. I shoved the cards back together, gathered them into a pile, and pushed them back where they'd been hidden.
I didn't need to be a genius to put two and two together.
This wasn't just a bedroom, or a storeroom, for that matter, no matter how much Creed Banks wanted it to be. This room was a purgatory of grief. The last memories of a wife—I glanced at the doorway, and a mother.
TWO
tobias
The stenchof smoke lingered on the stairs, growing stronger near the room where we kept mom's things. I turned from the closed door and made for Caleb's room, opening the door as I stepped inside. "Who's the female?"
"Depends," he muttered, playing COD, and winced as he was killed before glancing my way. "You talking about the mother flirting with dad downstairs, or the kid in the bedroom?"
"Kid?" I glanced toward the doorway.
He just shrugged, making stupid fucking faces as he battled. "Looked like a kid to me."
"What the fuck are they doing here?"
“Hell if I know. Now piss off, I got a mission to complete."
I strode from his room, walking past his desk and tipping over a half-full can of beer as I left.
"Asshole!"My brother roared, lunging as it spilled all over his brand new console.
I didn't like this, didn't like them being here. Didn't like any female being here. We'd just buried our damn mom, for Christ's sake, and here he was, entertaining guests.
No, not guests…women.
I breathed in the bitter stench of smoke and went to my room. I yanked off my shirt, unbuttoned my jeans, and shoved them off before climbing into bed. But I couldn't sleep, still wound up from driving through the city. No matter how many hours I spent out there, I still couldn't get the image of mom out of my head. Her gaunt face and haunted eyes looked nothing like the real her. I lifted my arm, rested my head on it, and stared at my ceiling.
Promise me...her last words lingered in my head. They were just a whisper…one tiny plea.Promise me you'll remember.
As if I’d forget.
Laughter drifted through the air, coming from downstairs. My father's laughter. I should go down there, just as I am, see if he laughs then. I turned over as agony moved through me.
He didn't know what mom was like. Didn't really see her at the end…none of them did.No, they took the easy way, hovering in the doorway of that room we’d set up like a damn hospital downstairs. Leaving her last days to be filled with the medical staff he'd paid to keep her company…and me.
I couldn’t leave her.
I'd held her hand and stroked her skin, watching while the cancer took her from us.
The deep seduction of a woman’s laughter cracked through the air. I winced, my pain growing colder until it didn't sting anymore, and as I closed my eyes and willed sleep to come, I answered her. “Yeah, Mom, I'll make sure we all remember."
* * *
"What the fuck is she still doing here?" Caleb stepped further into the bedroom.
I stood in the doorway and looked at her things scattered across the bed. Boxes. Clothes. Some with the tags still attached. "How the hell should I know?"
"He really wants us to haul this to the garage?" Caleb yanked the coverings free, exposing mom’s machines.
“That’s what he said." Anger seethed inside me, coiling like a snake in my chest as I moved closer and bent to shove her new jeans and iPhone case aside. Two days. That’s all it had taken. I glanced at the brand new MacBook sitting on the pillow, then to the white cotton fabric edged with lace peeking out from under the sheet.
