Page 137 of Possessive Sinner
"What?" Seems about all I'm capable of saying.
"I'm here to protect and drive you. Now get in before the fucking garage smell ruins the new car scent of this baby."
I take a step forward. "Is this some kind of trick?"
Gabe had been adamant that he didn't want me to go to see Kelly. Why would he suddenly change his mind?
"He's not as mulish as you think." Brick laughs to himself.
I take a step forward. "You're going to take me to see Kelly?"
He nods. "If that's where you want to go. I swear on my life."
I climb into the passenger seat.
"Seatbelt," Brick huffs.
"Bossy," I grin because…
My mood just improved a hundred percent. I don't care that Gabe changed his mind andgavepermission for me to leave. The important thing is he did.
"Address?" Brick doesn't seem to be in a chatty mood.
That's okay. I have enough on my mind to keep me occupied on the drive to my mother-in-law's house. Or is it ex-mother-in-law?
Make it quick. I tell myself when I ring the doorbell. Brick parked the car by the side of the road and told me to take all the time I needed.
The door opens, and I stare into Kelly's bloodshot eyes. If anything, she looks even more haggard than she did at the funeral.
"Oh, Kelly, I'm so sorry," I whisper, falling forward to take her into my arms.
She steps back. "Au-udra?"
"I thought I should come. We need to talk," I offer, a little hurt by her refusal of my hug, but I get it.
"Now?" She laughs bitterly, shakes her head. "You've got some nerve."
"Who is it, Ma?" A familiar voice calls.
"Maggie?" I call into the house.
"Audra?"
Maggie appears behind Kelly. "Oh my God, Audra!"
She enfolds me into her arms. I've missed her warmth and hugs.
"Come in, come in." Pointedly, she ignores Kelly's death glare.
We enter the kitchen, which has always been like a refuge to me. Decorated in a Southwest Style, the usually immaculate kitchen's sink is filled with dirty dishes, and half-eaten take-out containers stand on the counters, taking up most of the space. The aroma of fresh coffee permeates the air, bringing back memories of happier times spent here.
Kelly doesn't follow us right away, but when she does, I feel a storm gathering behind my back.
Maggie presses a mug into my hands. "Sit," she says softly. "You look like you're about to fall over."
I don't argue. I don't have the energy. After a moment, Kelly finally steps into the kitchen. "You need to call Detective Greenwald," she repeats.
My grip tightens around the mug. "I didn't come here for that."
