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I swing the door open and spear him with a vicious look. “Yes, we’ve talked about it, and I’ve explained to you time and again that I’m not in danger. No one wants me, not even you despite your ridiculous engagement. Get that through your thick skull already.”
With that parting shot, I take a step into the house and call out softly, “Mama, are you up?”
Lucian closes and locks the door behind me as I take the stairs two steps at a time. When my head is high enough to see into the landing, I stretch my neck and check the hallway floor. No one’s lying on it. I release the breath clogging up my throat.
Hoping she’s in her bedroom sleeping off her drunken stupor, I scurry back downstairs to get ahead of Lucian before he goes roaming around by himself.
Kicking off my shoes beside the front entrance, I fast walk in front of him and get into the living room a step before he does. My eyes go straight to the couch. Another sigh of relief.
Hands on my hips, I turn around to face Lucian, who’s doggedly followed me.
“See, I told you, she went to sleep. She’s an early sleeper.”Total lie.“Now can you come back tomorrow?”Or preferably, never.“It’s not right for you to be here with me without a chaperone.”A little too late for that, but whatever.
Lucian’s head snaps to the side. His eyes widen. A sick feeling washes over me as I sneak a look.
My gaze sweeps to the floor and I wince.
On the floor, two bare feet stick out from where the second sofa ends.
Hands fluttering in front of me, I hop from foot to foot. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Rushing to my mother, I kneel to check on her. She’s lying on her side, vomit spreading out beside her open mouth onto the hardwood floor.
She lets out a short little snore. I scramble back on my haunches with a screech. Clutching my chest, I let out great gusts of breath.
I hear the rustle of clothing behind me.
Shit, I forgot about him.
I glance left and Lucian is crouched beside me.
“Is she okay?”
His voice is concerned.
Tears spring to my eyes.
I smack him in the chest and say, “Why do you have to be so pushy? Why can’t you mind your own business and come back tomorrow like I asked instead of forcing your way into my home. Now look at her.Look at her.”
I shouldn’t shout at him. It’s not his fault, but I don’t care. I’m so angry.
My nostrils burn as I swipe at my falling tears. “Happy now? Are you fucking happy?”
He grabs hold of my nape and pulls me into his embrace, pushing my face into his shoulder.
His voice cracks when he says, “I’m so sorry, precious.”
His sympathy only fuels my fury and self-loathing. My sobs come out hard and loud.
“How long has this been going on?” he murmurs near my ear.
I cling to his jacket, leaving wet spots on the fine wool fabric of his tux. “It’s been bad since Tatum left.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks gently.
“Oh please, don’t act like I should have come to you.”
I lift my head and fling my hand out in her direction. “Look at her, she’s disgusting. When she’s like this.” I sigh as I stare down at her surprisingly peaceful face and repeat, “Disgusting.”
