But then, you can’t choose which parts of a person to accept.
Tess is that person, but she’s also the cold power bitch that comes down on me like a hammer.
“Dakota,” she starts, and I feel a small rush of pleasure that she chooses the right name. “I’m sorry that I lied about your father. When you asked me about Justin Prior that day, I should’ve … I should’ve been honest with you.”
I shake my head. Even though she did lie to me, I understand why.
She likely has no idea that Justin Prior is a serial killer, that he’s the Seattle motherfucking Slayer. But she knows he’s a bad man. She was trying to protect me from that.
Saffron, too, seemed to know so much more than she should. I’d love a chance to speak with her privately. There could be clues there as well.
“While I don’t appreciate being lied to, I can see why you did it. He’s … intense.” I grit my teeth at the memory of his smile after Maxx punched him. There’s something even more unsettling about his charming, almost placid demeanor. If he’d flown into a rage, I could’ve understood that. But that quiet calm? Dear god, what have I walked into here? “To be fair though, Tess, you can’t just tell me he’s a liar and a cheater and expect me to hate him.”
She lets out a small sound, turning away from me toward the darkening sky outside the window. Even though I can only see her profile right now, there is no mistaking the intense sense of longing in her eyes, the sorrow in the shape of her mouth, the love in her shaking hands.
She’s thinking about Parrish.
A line from Abducted Under a Noonday Sun comes back to me with a rush of pain. Losing a child is like losing a piece of your soul. On the outside, you’re still you. On the inside, you’re nothing but aching regret and bountiful memories. Every small moment you shared becomes larger than life; it becomes everything.
I finish my braid and then reach into my pocket, searching for a stray hair tie. I have a tendency to collect them in my pockets. Once, I counted fifteen hair ties shoved into the pocket of a denim jacket.
Instead of a hair tie, I find my Tess-phone. A thought occurs to me, so I slide it out and pretend to check my notifications. Instead, I surreptitiously start recording our conversation. If Tess is going to give me any clues about my father—or any of their ‘special places’ as Maxx put it—it’ll be now.
“Why don’t we start with … how you two met?” I begin, adding a question mark onto the end of that sentence. At least I don’t say ‘question mark’ aloud. Guess I’m not twelve anymore. A small flicker of sadness chases through me. My childhood is most certainly in the rearview mirror. I will never be the same after the things the Slayer has made me do.
And I imagine this is only the beginning of his demands.
My hands twist in my sheets as I wait for Tess to reply.
She keeps her gaze focused out the window, but her expression shifts from one of longing to one of long-buried pain.
“We met at Whitehall,” she says, and then she finally glances back at me. “I’m sure you didn’t miss Justin’s little dig about me being trailer trash.” Tess cringes slightly, as if she’s ashamed about that. My mouth flattens into a thin line. I hate billionaires with unabashed passion, but I do not hate people for being poor. There’s nothing to be ashamed about here.
“Tess,” I start, but it’s like, now that she’s started, she isn’t ready to stop.
“Anyway, my grandmother worked hard to make ends meet while still trying to chase her dream of becoming an author …” Tess pauses again, turning fully to face me. There’s regret written plainly all over her face. “I should’ve told you all of this sooner. Not just you, but all of you kids.” She reaches out to touch my face, hesitates, and then flattens her mouth into a thin, determined line. Tess closes that distance between us, cupping the side of my face and stroking her fingers into my hair. “You kids are my heart,” she whispers, voice cracking. “My whole entire heart.”
I look away. I can’t help it. I’m not ready for this conversation with her, not after she hurt me in too many ways to count. But I also feel for her, ache for her, want to cry for her. I will save Parrish for her. For Chasm. For Maxx. For Kimber and Ben, Amelia and Henry. Even Paul. They all need him back, no matter what it costs me.
Tess drops her hand back to her lap, and I look back, wishing I’d had the strength to maintain that eye contact with her.
