The Biker and the Loner (Oil and Water #3)- S. Ann Cole Page 0,29
this shit up and I freaking hate it when he does. Fuming, I shoot to my feet, but then take a breath to reign in my anger. "I'm leaving now."
"Yeah, go on. Run from Scratch, The Big Bad Wolf," he calls after me. "Go eat her poison apples."
"Screw you, Landon!"
I scoop my keys from off the breakfast bar and stomp out of there. By the time I'm in my car and furiously firing up the engine, he’s at the front door of the house, leaned against the doorjamb with his arms crossed, watching me leave.
He's an asshole. A big, odious jerk. And I hate that my stupid, idiotic heart won't stop letting me feel things for him.
Shittingfreakingshit!!
I punch my fist against the steering wheel and give myself only a minute to lose it, not caring that he’s seeing me lose it.
Once I’m done abusing my steering wheel, I back out of the driveway and screech the hell out of Opal Meadows.
Chapter 7
Ley
The sun is dozing by the time I get home. Kathy will be suspicious. I usually try to be home before three each day so I'm not out long enough for her to miss me. It's becoming more and more exhausting, having to put her feelings and needs ahead of my own, not being able to live however I want to live.
An aromatic scent of mixed spices and melted butter hits me when I enter the house. Is she…cooking? Unbelievable. Kathy hasn’t held a spatula in years. I’m the one who does everything, while she drinks, smokes pot, pops antidepressants, and ghosts around.
I find her in the kitchen, stirring something in a saucepan, wearing just a red bra and some silken lounge shorts. The woman has a wickedly amazing body for her age. She’s vain enough to put some effort into maintaining her beauty and physique, but not enough to show it off to anyone but herself…and me.
Her best moods are after her long leisure walks on the treadmill; there’s a two-hour grace period where she becomes the old Kathy again, the Kathy I love, before the endorphins from her walk slowly dissipate.
"You're cooking," I say, stating the obvious as I set my handbag and keys down on the island. Seeing her standing over the stove has me thrown. Not that she doesn’t know what she’s doing. She’s a consummate cook. I attribute all my culinary skills to her. Papà was great at traditional dishes, but Kathy used to be the MVP in the kitchen. I miss that. I miss her. The real her.
She doesn't look at me when she replies, "Well, you have been gone all day. I had no choice."
"Sorry. Kendra needed my help with something."
Kendra is the one name I can use in fibs for her to believe me. We’d rented out the pool house to Kendra after a traumatic break-in incident at her apartment. With Kendra’s incident hitting too close to home for me—my mom losing her life in a break-in—I’d offered Kendra a safer home, peace of mind, and didn’t care what Kathy had to say about it.
In the end, Kathy ended up liking Kendra. Their interactions were few and far between, and mostly surrounded marijuana and music, but it was enough for Kathy to “trust” me with her.
"Oh, she's back?" she asks.
Crap. I forgot that I’d told her Kendra was traveling with Alec. "Um, yeah. Just for a few days. Family emergency."
She looks up at me then with those dead, empty eyes, her slightly raised brow letting me know she doesn't believe me.
"What's for dinner?" I ask in a lame attempt to deflect.
"Spicy shrimp masala." She switches off the stove and turns her back to me. "Go set the table, baby. Let's eat."
Later that night, I wake with a parched throat and trek downstairs for something to drink. I'm surprised to find Kathy seated at the kitchen island nursing a glass of wine. She looks up when she hears me approach. Her eyes are red, puffy, and wet.
Dear God. What now?
I pretend not to notice as I go to the fridge and get out a bottle of sugar-free fruit juice. "Hey."
She doesn't answer.
Grabbing a glass from the dish-drainer, I pour some juice and drink it all in one go. After I’ve returned the bottle back into the fridge and placed the empty glass in the sink, I tell her, "Put the wine down, Mom. Come get some sleep."