Page 10 of The Queen (Masterpiece Duet 2)
“Is that what you would do?”
“No,” she admits ruefully. “I would have done anything for my father. And I guess I did. I can’t say that I really regret it, but it also was misguided. I was blind to his faults. So desperate to hold on to my last piece of family.”
Acid burns my throat. “I know what that’s like.”
“The women in Tanglewood don’t fare too well,” she says softly.
I know the sad story of her mother, how even with all her money and education she hadn’t managed to escape the dark side of the city. It would be even harder without those resources. Impossible. It had been pure luck that had let me leave the first time.
That luck won’t find me again.
“I don’t think I can stay here, knowing he might be in trouble. But I don’t want to leave. It’s been too good here,” I say in a whisper, a little rueful. To know what it’s like, life without struggling for my next meal, for the next five dollars that may never come.
“You can come back,” Avery says.
She’s a wonderful friend, but she doesn’t know what it’s like to be hungry for years. And I wouldn’t wish that on her. “Maybe.”
“You can,” she insists. “You can visit home, make sure your dad is okay, and then fly back. If you need money, I can help.”
“Please,” I say, my cheeks turning warm. “You’ve done enough for me.”
She frowns. “It’s not charity, Penny. You’re my friend.”
“And you’re my friend. That’s why I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
This is an argument we’ve had before. I can see the old arguments in the air of her apartment, how she wants to help me, how she doesn’t need the money. It feels too good to have a friend, though. One I don’t owe. One who doesn’t owe me.
“It’s not only that,” I admit. “I’m a little afraid to go home. To see him.”
She doesn’t ask who I mean. Damon Scott. The man who saved me. The man who pushed me away. And the only person who will know where Daddy is.
“Do you think he’ll give you a hard time?” she says, sounding worried, as if she thinks he’ll give me a hard time. “I can ask Gabriel to talk to him. He’s out of the country at the moment, but—”
“No, it’s not that. It’s more about my reaction to him.”
“Oh,” she says knowingly.
“I think I was silly before. Thinking there was anything between us. He’s probably forgotten all about me.” This is what I convinced myself. It was the only way I could actually leave Tanglewood. After the phone call I’m not so sure.
But even if he cared about me back then, I was a little girl. How could he have cared about me? How could he have known me? I barely even knew myself. The young woman sitting on this couch with Avery James is someone else entirely.
“Or maybe he’s been pining after you.”
My throat gets tight, filled with words I don’t dare say. “No. I was only a teenager when I saw him last. He kissed me, but I think… I’m afraid it was only out of pity.”
She looks dubious. “I don’t think Damon Scott kisses people out of pity.”
“Maybe not. But it’s been three years. He could have kissed every girl in the city by now.”
“He could have kissed none of them.”
Only when my heart beats faster do I realize that’s what I’ve been wishing for. How stupid of me. How presumptuous. And yet I can’t deny the possibility. He had kissed me. And it hadn’t felt like pity, the faint tremor in his strong body, the gentle way his lips touched mine.
“Has Gabriel said anything about him lately?”
Avery’s hazel eyes grow troubled. “No, but I’m not sure if he would tell me. They’ve been arguing. And he’s been gone so much for work. So much traveling.”
There’s more than travel bothering her. I feel her unease as surely as my own, dark and sinewy, climbing our ankles like vines. “Have you told him you’re worried about him?”
Her nose scrunches. “I shouldn’t be surprised you can see right through me. You always were crazy smart.”
“With numbers,” I remind her. “Not people.”
“They’re not so different, I think. Both of them are puzzles.”
I put her hand in mine. “I can tell you’re worried because I care about you.”
It still feels strange to touch anyone.
I didn’t get hugged much as a child. My mother left early, first in spirit, losing herself in drugs and men. Then in body. Daddy did his best for me, but he was never much of a hugger. Maybe that’s why it meant so much for Damon Scott to hold me. He was really the first person who did.
She squeezes my hand, looking grateful. “I didn’t want to tell anyone. Not even him. As if saying the words would make it more real. I can’t help but think one of these days he’s going to go away and not come back.”
