Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 105231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
“Yeah, she was likely doing whatever she could to make sure you had food to eat.”
“I thought Tyler caught me once. I was sneaking food into a bag I’d brought with me and he walked into the kitchen. I ran off, certain he’d tell your uncle or Lacey or you, but no one ever said anything to me.”
“Maybe he didn’t see you.”
She nodded.
“You came to her place a lot,” she said to him. “I liked that. Better than when she was at your place and I didn’t see any of you as much.”
“We liked to stay over whenever we could because our uncle could be a neglectful piece of shit.”
“Yeah.” She hated that Lacey had been treated so badly by her father. Made to feel less than her dead brother. Lacey deserved so much better. “I didn’t move to Albany until after Brax’s death, but Lacey told me that he blamed her for it.” Asshole.
“Yeah, he’s a fucking winner.”
“I think you did a far better job of walking her down the aisle than he could ever have done,” she told him.
“Yeah?”
Was it her imagination or was he blushing slightly?
“Yes. I think he would have made her miserable on what’s meant to be the best day of her life and you helped her to feel safe and happy. To glow.”
“Thanks, Goldie.” He reached forward and grasped hold of her hands. “I’m so fucking sorry your parents treated you that way. And that I never knew.”
“No reason you would know. I knew better than to say anything. If I ever drew attention to our family, bad attention, my mother would get so mad. So I learned to hide what was going on. My mother was a very smart, cold and calculating woman. She would have known what to say to anyone who called her with concerns. But she would be fuming on the inside, and she’d turn that on me.”
“Fucking bitch.”
“Yes.”
“Goldie, is she the reason you’ve got a huge lump and bruise on your forehead and your arm is hurting?”
14
He had to know. He was going fucking insane not knowing who had hurt her and what had happened.
Surprise filled her face. “You know about my arm?”
“I saw you wince when you used it before.”
“Oh.”
“What happened? Did you go visit your mother and she hurt you?” he asked.
“Um, yes, in a way.”
“In a way?” What the fuck did that mean? “Either she hit you or she didn’t.”
“Well, I guess she did.”
“Good. We’re going to call the cops. No way she can get away with this. Not happening any longer.”
“No, no you can’t call the cops!” she cried.
“Why not?” he asked. “She hit you. There is physical evidence. And she needs to pay for what she did. Unless you want me to pay her a visit.”
Now that was something he was more than happy to do.
“No, you can’t do that, either!”
Shit. Was she really defending her abuser? He knew that happened sometimes. Especially when the abuser was a family member.
“Baby, what she did is not okay. I know she’s your mother but you can’t let her get away with this. What if she does it to someone else?”
“No, you don’t understand. I’m not defending her. She’s a terrible person and I honestly want nothing to do with her. She could actually rot for all I care.”
The words were said fiercely and he believed her. So he couldn’t understand why she would be all right with letting her mother get away with harming her.
“But you can’t call the police on her because she’s in a dementia unit in Albany. And she likely didn’t know what she was doing when she hurt me.”
Right. Shit.
Dementia was a cruel, horrible disease and she was right. It would be hard to prove that she knew what she was doing, even with her history of abuse . . .
“You went to visit her? How long has she been in the unit?”
“Um, let me think. I guess six months. Her lawyer tracked me down to inform me. And he let me know that my father had died three years ago.”
“She didn’t tell you that your father had died?” he asked.
“No. But then she didn’t know where I was or how to contact me. At that stage my grandmother was gone and I’d sold her home in England.”
“You said you lived with your grandmother after you left your parents. But did she know about how your parents treated you?”
“Yes. I never even knew her until she rang on the house phone one day and I answered. I had just turned fifteen. We were both shocked to learn that the other person existed. Apparently, no one ever told her about me and she’d been estranged from my father for years. I don’t even know why she called that day. Anyway, we started secretly talking after that. And she told me that she was coming to visit but that it would be a surprise for my parents.”