Page 47 of Violent Little Thing

They’d finally get to experience life without worrying about having to be at work.

“You’ll get to go on a cruise,” I pointed out. “You always wanted to go on a cruise.”

“Yeah, but those cost money. We won’t make enough for play. Only to live.”

I rolled my eyes.

This was a popular argument that we had.

I offered to give them some of the dividends of the ten percent ownership that I had in the teams, and they said that the money was mine.

I’d insist, they’d tell me that the money was mine, and you didn’t get rich by spending your money—or giving it away.

“Mom…”

“Anyway, the retirement ceremony is next week. I hope that you can make it.”

I sighed. “I’ll be there. Just shoot me the time and place.”

My mother sniffled. “Love you, baby.”

“Love you, too.” I hung up.

When I turned around, it was to find Court close. “What happened?”

“My mother is being forced to retire because some new insurance policy at their work doesn’t allow anyone over the age of sixty-four out on the factory floor.” I shrugged. “It’s pretty dangerous, what she does. So I can kind of see it. But it’s pretty random news to find out. I don’t know. She may just be getting older and not as fast, and they’ve decided that she needs to go. So they’re trying to force her out without making it look like they’re doing it because they’re old.”

“Doesn’t your dad work there, too?”

“He does, as the head supervisor. He’s going to retire, too,” I explained. “He doesn’t do anything without my mom. That includes working.”

He looked lost for a second, his eyes on the dirty kitchen.

I bumped him with my shoulder. “What’s your family like?”

His lips thinned, and I realized that I’d stepped into it based solely on the look on his face.

“What?” I asked.

“I haven’t talked to my family since my wife died,” he said. “They hated me for what I did.”

His unspoken “not that I blame them” broke my heart.

It hadn’t been his fault.

“Court.” I poked him in the chest. “Let me tell you something.”

His eyes focused solely on me, the weight of them nearly drowning me in emotion.

“What you did and what Seraphina did are not the same,” I said. “You were literally just living. You ate something. Your body betrayed you. You didn’t mean to do it. It was a fluke accident that no one can ever prepare for. However, Seraphina, on the other hand, knew exactly what she was doing. She drank, she drove, and she did it all the time. I know, on several occasions, that I heard her say that she didn’t ‘give a fuck’ when people suggested that she not drive. She could hurt someone. People that drive drunk are not the same as what happened with you. And I think you know it.”

He didn’t say anything, but I saw relief in his eyes, like he wasn’t expecting me to be so blunt. Or to be on his side.

I’d bet it was heartbreaking for your own family not to understand.

No wonder he was so messed up about all this.

I mean, on top of it all, he’d killed his wife and unborn child. That was punishment enough. Especially when he had no control over his body.