my gut. “He put his hand … on my stomach. And down my pants.” I screw my eyes shut, as if doing so can block out the memory that continues to play behind my lids. “I screamed, and he told me that if anyone heard me, he’d have to hurt them. I remember the pain. So much pain that I blacked out from it.” I exhale a shaky breath, and open my eyes to find Aunt Midge staring back at me with more tears in her eyes. “When I woke up, there was blood everywhere. So much blood. And my mom, she was there, and she picked me up into her arms.” Voice cracking, I break into tears. “She said, ‘It’s going to be okay, baby’, and I looked over, and he had blood on his throat and all over his hands.”
“She got into her car, and she drove for miles, until she arrived here on this island. When she brought you to me, you still had his blood all over you. Uncle Hal and I took you in, and I washed it off and wrapped you in a blanket, just holding you while your mom broke down.” She sniffs and wipes the freshly fallen tears away, while mine sit trapped in a jiggling shield across my eyes. “She told me she had to leave you with me. And she made me promise to protect you. To never tell you who your father really is.”
She reaches out a hand, setting it on my arm, and as she grabs something from her purse that’s hanging off the edge of the chair and slides it in front of me, the tears finally break. All of my school pictures lay in a pile atop a large picture of my mom and me when I was small, maybe five years old. She’s smiling and pointing at the camera, her face healthy and lit up, framed by those fiery red locks.
“I gathered these this morning. From where she was camped under the viaduct. I’m no mother, so I’m certainly no expert on what makes a good, or bad mom. But one thing I know for sure is, she loved you. As much as a drug addict can love, she loved you.”
I finally break down and feel Aunt Midge’s arms wrap around me, drawing me into a hug. “I said horrible things to her. And now she’ll never know how sorry I am.”
“She knows, baby. She knows.”
Chapter 56
Lucian
I swirl my drink in the glass, staring at the empty bed on camera. Teeth grinding in my skull, I recall her last words before she left. Let me go. They echo the night Amelia dangled from my arm, trying to pry my fingers loose.
I chuck the glass across the room, and it shatters against the wall. “Fuck!”
What the hell was I thinking, getting involved with this girl? I knew the consequences of falling for an unbridled thing like Isa. A young, sassy, package of poke-my-eyeballs-out-with-a-chopstick kind of girl. Like trying to contain a hurricane inside of a test tube. She’s whipping winds and half-torn rooftops, treacherous waves and dangerous undertows, and I can’t fucking get enough of her, for some reason. I don’t know if I’m a weatherman at heart, or a bona fide masochist who loves the torment.
The elevator dings, and Rand steps out, staring down at the broken pieces of glass as he skirts around them on his way to my desk. He lays the bracelet I gave Isa across the desktop, and my hand balls into a fist at the sight of it.
“I’ve gotten word that another dead body was found this morning,” he says, taking a step back and crossing his hands in front of him. “Another drug overdose, it seems.”
“And why do I care?”
“It was the body of Jenny Quinn. Isa’s mother.”
Easing back into my chair, I stroke my jaw in thought. “She never said anything when she left.”
“No, I suppose she wouldn’t.”
“Any connection to Nell? Any similarities?”
“Just that a needle was found lodged into her arm. Heroin is suspected with her, as well. Though, as I understand, Isa’s mother has been an addict for quite some time. I suppose there wouldn’t be anything unusual about that.”
“Any word on Isa? How she’s doing?”
“Nothing, I’m afraid.”
I push to my feet and tuck my cellphone into my pocket.
“Master … perhaps a couple days might be in order. To let her mourn, and all that.”
I’ve made a point of ignoring Rand’s advice over the last couple