The Protector (Barrett Boys #3) - Jordan Ford Page 0,26

a while.

She doesn’t seem to notice her daughter’s bitterness and starts gushing about her latest role. “I swear, this one has been written for me. You should see me on set, baby. I’m fire. Mack, you know, Macky McGuire. You met him last year at the film festival.”

“The one in Cannes you made me go to?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. Didn’t we have a blast!”

“I missed a really important assignment and nearly failed chemistry because you wouldn’t let me leave on my originally scheduled flight.”

Her mother laughs like this is the biggest joke, then completely ignores the statement. “So, Macky thinks my performance is Oscar quality. Did you hear that? I could get nominated for an Oscar, baby!” She shrieks and Indigo winces, lightly touching her ear.

"That's great, Mom. I'm just heading to college right now. Orientation starts on Monday, but I want to get all settled and meet my online friend. Do you remember Tabatha? I told you about her. She’s invited me to a freshman party this weekend, so I’ll probably go to that and—”

“Yeah, wonderful."

Indigo bites her bottom lip, obviously annoyed at being cut off. “I’m pretty excited. Did I tell you I'm going to be studying—"

"Gotta fly, sweets. They need me. I love you."

The line goes dead. My eyes bulge as I try to wrap my head around whatever the hell that was.

It definitely wasn’t a conversation.

Risking a quick glance at Indigo, I’m met with an icy scowl. "Next time, let me answer the phone. You may be my bodyguard, but I don't think it's appropriate for you to be eavesdropping on my calls!"

"Sorry," I mumble. “I just pressed without—”

“Yeah, I know. Just don’t do it again, okay?”

“Of course.” I raise my hand and give her an apologetic smile.

She turns away from it, staring out the window and kind of hunching over on herself.

I can’t really see her face right now, but I can almost feel what she must be thinking.

Talk about an outright rejection.

Her mother wasn’t calling to check on her, she was ringing to boast about being such an amazing actress.

An unexpected anger fires through me. I may not remember much about my mother, but the parts I do remember never included being pushed away or cut off. Mom used to let us sit on her knee. She’d hold me and Jake, one on each leg, and talk about how perfectly the three of us fit together.

“You’re my surprises from heaven, you two.”

She’d ask us about our day, and Jake would always go on and on, including every little detail. I’d be groaning and rolling my eyes, but she’d be rapt, drinking it all in.

Then it was my turn. I’d try to make it more interesting than Jake, and she’d laugh at my antics, letting me slide off her knee so I could act it out and entertain her.

She had the best laugh in the world.

I think I can still remember what it sounds like. Maybe it’s morphed into something I just imagine, but I don’t even care. I can see Mom’s face still. It’s a little blurry, but it’ll always be there.

Moms don’t cut their kids off.

Not the way Indigo’s mom just did.

No wonder she never smiles. With a self-centered stepsister, a smothering father, and a mom who doesn’t give a shit, what does she have to smile about?

11

Classic Tropes and Zipped Lips

Oh my gosh, I am so embarrassed.

I can’t believe Brody heard that entire conversation with my mom.

Talk about humiliating!

I’m used to Mom behaving that way, but I didn’t miss the look on his face. He’s obviously come from a very different home to mine. He probably has a mother who feeds him and looks after him when he’s home. She probably sits there asking him all about his life and wanting to be a part of it.

Unlike mine.

My eyes start to sting and I clench my jaw, swallowing down the stupid emotion that always surfaces whenever Mom gets in touch.

I almost wish she wouldn’t.

I don’t even know why she does.

It’s probably just to appease some guilt she carries for abandoning me when I was a kid.

“What are you going to be studying?” Brody’s deep voice is soft and so out of the blue I actually flinch.

“What?”

“What are you going to be studying?”

I tip my head with a withering glare.

He just grins. “Hey. I’m gonna have to be in these classes too, you know. I'll just hover around the back, keeping an eye on things, but it'd be good to know what I