Page 56 of Reckless Seduction
“Did you have something important ta say, Marianne?” Nan’s forehead raises and her eyes narrow at the woman. “Or did you just come here to complain?”
Marianne puts on a plastic smile that is so fake even the Russian space station can see it.
“I was hoping to have a word with our little captive here,” she grits, the smile still in place.
Nan snorts. “She’s busy.”
The twins’ mother goes to protest, but Nan is having none of it. “Why don’t you do us all a favor, dear, and make yerself scarce? Ye’ve never been a help before. No reason ta start now.”
Ava cracks a laugh as Marianne huffs, turns on her heels, and stomps from the room. And I thought I had temper tantrum problems.
“Snake, that one,” Nan mutters darkly. “Judas in the flesh.”
I really want to know, but I don’t.
But I really do.
So I ask.
“What’s her deal with you?” I turn to Ava, sneering at the red pumps Nan lays out with the dress. “I’m not wearing those. I’ll break my leg.”
“Fashion is pain, dear.”
“You know what’s also painful?” I shoot back. “A broken leg.”
Nan ignores me and then shuffles out of the room, closing the door as she goes. Meanwhile, Ava is smiling brightly at me from the bed.
“She’s a hoot, right?”
“Oh yeah,” I deadpan. “I’ve always wanted a grandmother who would dress me as a hooker.”
Ava laughs.
“But really.” I shift myself to the bed, keeping a few feet between us. Seamus has told me that Ava doesn’t enjoy being crowded. “What’s your deal with the Wicked Witch of the West?”
“It’s a long story.” She sighs. “Marianne and my mother were best friends growing up. When my mom went missing the first time, she didn’t file a police report until a week later. Even suppressed evidence of their dorm room being raided.”
“Jesus,” I mutter.
“When I confronted her about it, she got defensive,” Ava murmurs sadly. “And every time I try to bring it up to Liam, he shuts me down. Doesn’t listen to me. It’s like he’s completely blind when it comes to Marianne.”
Her life is a real-life soap opera. A Korean drama. A mafia romance. There are more moving parts than I can keep track of,and part of me wants to reach out and hold her. I want to assure her. Keep her safe. This sudden flare of protectiveness I’ve never felt before takes hold of me.
I’ve never had a connection with Dalia. Not that the spoiled brat or her demon mother would let me. Dalia isn’t my sister, and I’ve never felt a kinship with her. Not like I do with Ava. She is like a younger sister, even though we are pretty close in age.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, a lone tear tracking down my cheek as I take her in. This amazing woman has been through hell and survived. She has been beaten down. Used. Abused. And she has still come out fighting. “I don’t know if anyone has said that to you, but I’m sorry for what you had to go through. I’m sorry no one was there to protect you or defend you.”
Her emerald eyes find mine, and she silently weeps, her shoulders shaking with the force of her quiet sobs. Acting on instinct, I pull her into me, wrapping her in my arms and soothingly rubbing her back.
I hope it is soothing. There isn’t exactly a manual for this sort of thing, and I’ve always been shit at comforting people. We sit like that for what feels like hours. Two damaged souls taking comfort in one another.
“They like you.” Ava shifts, her hand wiping at the tears that have dried on her cheek. “The twins. They really like you.”
I snort in disbelief. “More like they like me in their bed.”
Ava sits up, her nose scrunching in distaste as she looks at me. “That was not an image I needed.”
“But it’s the truth.”
