The Rush (The Siren Series) - By Rachel Higginson Page 0,63

It was what drew my mother to him in the first place, but he somehow clawed his way out of hell and my mother’s greedy fingers. He must have been a monk in a former life, or Mother Theresa or something because to defeat stage four brain cancer and the curse was like legend status.

Maybe he was a super hero.

Honor certainly thought so, which made me immediately fall in love with him. Any man my mother hated and my sister loved was basically a saint in my book.

My mom pulled the car to a stop in front of the pillared front entryway of his huge modern estate and we exited the giant SUV in silence. My mother preferred demure-classy-Ivy over all other options and so I obliged her. She had the power to take away these visits and making sure Honor stayed as far away from our mother as possible had become my life’s purpose.

Or one of them. Making sure I got far away from our mother was the other.

“Smile, Ivy,” my mother commanded through her own plastic expression. “Look like you love me.”

I obeyed and kept smiling as we were welcomed into the house by Smith himself and led to the drawing room. Ok, it wasn’t actually the drawing room, but that’s what it felt like. Smith had a whole household worth of servants but he preferred to answer the door himself when my mom was around. Personally I didn’t think he trusted her around any man, even ones that worked for him.

Obviously he was smart.

“Ava,” Smith greeted her coolly. He didn’t even hold out his hand to her. Where in most of these pretentious circles people greeted each other with kisses or at least a handshake, Smith stayed as far from my mother as he could. It annoyed her to no end. “Ivy, it’s so good to see you back home and healthy,” he smiled down at me, bringing me into a hug. Another thing that would annoy my mother.

I let it happen. Smith was like the fun uncle I never got to have. He was devilishly handsome in that refined gentleman kind of way, with short, cropped blondish hair infused with streaks of gray although he was still in his early forties. He had a classic jawline and strong nose, and his eyes were deep brown but lightened when he laughed. I could so easily see why my mother had chosen him. And the best part about him was his easy going personality except when it came to everything Ava Pierce.

“Ivy!” my little sister squealed from across the room.

I wrenched out of Smith’s grasp to open my arms just in time to catch her. She wrapped her stick thin arms around me, squeezing me until I could barely breathe. But I wouldn’t have pulled away for anything. Tears pricked the backs of my eyes as I held her close, inhaling her unconditional love. She was like this mini version of me, with deep auburn hair and bright green eyes and perfect flawless skin. Her freckles spattered the bridge of her nose too, but scattered over her cheeks and one just to the corner of her eye. And she was untouched by our world, completely innocent.

I prayed every day that she would stay that way.

“I missed you so much,” I confessed into her hair. My voice was full of emotion and I didn’t even try to hide the catch in my throat.

“I missed you too,” she squeezed me tighter, stepping on her tip toes so she could get a better hold. “Did you get my letters?”

“Yes, sorry I couldn’t write back. They wouldn’t let me,” I explained hoping she didn’t think I had blown her off.

“I know, mom told me. She said it was part of the therapy,” Honor whispered but not from fear of being overheard…. from just plain fear. “You’re better now? You’re not… um…. depressed anymore?”

Ha. The million dollar question.

“No little one, I’m not,” I lied. I hated lying to Honor, but sometimes it was necessary. I couldn’t have her worrying about me. I couldn’t give my mother something to use and lord over her. If my mom thought she could convince Honor I would be safer and healthier with Honor at home with us, she might just leave her dad to help me.

“Alright, Ivy. I would like to see Honor too,” my mother’s voice attacked our embrace and I could feel the rage pouring out of her in waves. She had seen the opportunity