Cruel Shame (Knights of Templar Academy #3) - Sofia Daniel Page 0,30

me an apology.”

“I owe you more than that.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and placed a kiss on his lips. Instead of stiffening or flinching or saying something dickheadish, he wrapped an arm around the small of my back and pulled me into his warm body.

“Lilah?” a voice shouted over the barking of the dogs.

I turned to the back of the house, where Mother stood at the kitchen door in a thin, white dressing gown.

Chapter Fourteen

Mother stared at me through glazed eyes set within a face as pale as her dressing gown. I hadn’t expected to see her until two or three in the afternoon, but it looked like she hadn’t been as far gone as Billy Hancock had implied. She was still drunk and had probably taken something else to counter the alcohol.

My heart lurched, and I leaned into Kendrick’s side for support. It had been years since I’d last seen her in this condition, but all the feelings of having an alcoholic mother flooded back. The stomach-churning anger mingled with worry, and the powerlessness that there wasn’t a single thing I could do to help her.

When I was younger, I would make deals with myself, thinking that she might stop drinking if I smiled more around the house or if I got good grades or if I was nicer to Billy Hancock. It didn't work. Then I tried staying out at night and disappearing for days at friends’ houses so maybe she might stay sober out of worry. Nothing I did affected the amount she drank.

I would never understand Mother. If she wasn’t drowning herself with gin, then she was flying high with coke. On the few days she was straight, there were non-stop arguments with Billy Hancock.

“Abby.” His sharp voice cut through the loud barking. Mother turned around and smiled at the man who I came to see as her jailer.

Billy Hancock appeared from the kitchen, placed an arm around her shoulder and guided her back inside.

I turned to Kendrick, wondering if he had picked up on my strange family dynamic. He stared ahead at the kitchen doorway with his brows furrowed as though trying to puzzle us out. I wished him a silent good luck. My family had enough skeletons in its closet to start a zombie apocalypse.

“Lilah,” Nichelle screeched at us from the dog kennels. “Look at what he’s done to Sammy’s face.”

“Let’s go inside,” I muttered.

We stepped back into the warmth of the kitchen, where Margaret carried a ceramic bowl of roast potatoes out of the microwave and out through the door that led to the dining room. I pressed my lips together, suppressing my disapproval. The dining room was supposed to be where Billy Hancock entertained important guests and made important deals over cigars and cognac. Why was he bringing us in there?

The dining room was straight out of a Harrods display. Seriously. It was a vast space, illuminated by a gold-and-crystal chandelier that cast kaleidoscopic light over gunmetal-gray walls with matching marble floor tiles, gold skirting boards, and the most elaborate gold ceiling rose that held a crystal chandelier.

Billy Hancock sat at the head of the black, marble dining table decorated with gold Versace flourishes around its edges. On his left, Mother perched on a gold-upholstered chair with a crest rail that belonged to a throne. Both still looked at ease at entertaining guests in their dressing gowns.

Among golden dishes filled with cooked vegetables sat one containing an un-browned chicken fresh from the microwave. I walked around to sit at Mother’s right, furthest away from Billy Hancock, but she raised her head and pointed at the nameplate on the setting next to hers. “This seat is for Maxwell.”

I would have asked how they knew his name, Sammy must have told them about Maxwell from the time they spent together in that cell.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“You wanted to speak to your mother, here’s your chance,” Billy Hancock stood. “Now sit down.”

Margaret stepped into the room, holding a bowl of stuffing. As I walked around Kendrick and made my way to the other side of the table, she scooted around me and took the seat closest to Billy Hancock.

My brows drew together. None of our previous housekeepers ever dined with us. They usually returned to their husbands after performing their duties, but Margaret turned to Billy Hancock and offered him a warm smile. I glanced at Mother, who watched the pair with blank eyes. Then I took a closer look at