that was when I realized there was enough light coming from a light post along the driveway that he could see me face. Definitely the puffy eyes. Maybe a bruise.
“Lila, are you okay? What happened?”
“Please, Brandon.” I didn’t even try to have dignity as I pleaded with him. “I just need a ride. I’d have to cut through the house to get to my car, and I don’t really want to drive right now and—”
“Yeah. Of course.” He was already putting the car in drive and turning his attention to the road. “Whatever you need, Lila. You know that.”
“Thanks.” It came out as a whisper, and I was horrified to find more tears welling before I turned to look out the window.
Brandon, thankfully, stopped with the questions. Though I knew he was probably dying to ask more, he drove the entire way in silence, letting me stew in my thoughts as I tried and failed to figure out what to do next.
My mother had seemed like the best start. I needed answers, and clearly, she was the only one who could provide them.
I could also probably crash there for the night, although the thought of it wasn’t exactly appealing. If her boyfriend was still away, then she’d be hammered, and if he was there, I’d be forced to deal with his prissy attitude and his snide comments.
When we pulled up to the bungalow, most of the lights were off and her boyfriend’s car was nowhere to be seen.
Still away then, thank God. I so did not need to deal with his outbursts during this conversation. I drew in a deep breath and let it out with a weary sigh as I reached for the door handle.
“Do you want me to come in?” Brandon asked.
I turned back to see his eyes filled with concern and fixed on my neck. There’d be finger marks there, no doubt. Any other time I might have cared.
“Stay here,” I said. I still wasn’t sure I wanted to spend any more time than necessary with my mother, especially after this conversation. Then, I belatedly added, “Please.”
He gave me a small smile and a nod. “Whatever you need.”
My mother barely lifted her head from the couch when I walked into the living room. A true-crime show was playing in the background, but her head was tipped back. For a second, I thought maybe she was sleeping, but then I saw the glass of wine dangling from one of her hands. A step closer and I saw the mask on her face which gave her a creepy vibe as she said, “Oh look. A surprise visit from my daughter.”
She didn’t sound pleased. Which was fine. I wasn’t exactly thrilled to be here. “I need to ask you a question.”
My mother waved her hand as if to say ‘get on with it,’ and red wine sloshed over the rim of the glass, leaving a dark red stain on the white carpet. Her boyfriend would freak when he got home and saw that.
One thing I could say about my mother, she definitely had a type.
“Who’s my real father?” I asked.
The silence that followed was filled with suspenseful music that only added to my tension as I waited.
And waited.
Finally, I moved closer so I could see her eyes and the rest of her frozen face.
She glared up at me. “Who told?”
“Does it matter?” I shot back.
Her sigh said no, and then she finally moved, sitting up and splashing even more red liquid. “Does your father know that you know?” She didn’t give me a chance to answer. “Don’t tell him. He’ll stop the payments.”
Of course that was her first concern. If she noticed the red eyes or the bruises on my cheek and neck, she didn’t mention them.
All the better, really. I wasn’t in a chatty mood. “I won’t tell.”
She nodded, finally setting down the wine glass and then looking up at me with arched brows that cracked the mold of her mask. “What did you want to know? Who the real father is?”
“Yes.”
My mother eyed me oddly. “Doesn’t change anything. Your read dad didn’t know any more than Grayson did.”
I stared at her as my father’s voice came back to me. She likely doesn’t even know herself. “But you know.”
My mother smirked. “Of course I know. Even fancied myself in love for a little while there.”
“But you were married to Daddy.” She arched a mocking brow, and I cursed under my breath as I caught my mistake. “You were married