Page 56 of Ruthless Redemption

“He likes you.” The bedsprings squeak with her movement. “He couldn’t stop talking about you in the car, which means he really,reallylikes you.”

The words shouldn’t hurt, but they do. They lash with the force of a knotted rope.

I’d thought the same thing. I’dwantedit, too.

“Where did you meet? What’s his last name? What does he do for work?” She peppers me with questions that seem more like accusations, each one harder than the last. “You said you two were working together, right?”

“Calm down, little fish. We’ve got all the time in the world to talk about me. I want you to tell me about school first.”

“Forget school. Something is definitely going on with you two.” She grins. “I’ve been here five seconds and it’s already obvious he thinks you’re the goat.”

“The goat?” I squeeze a tissue paper tighter in my grip, compacting it into an aggression-filled ball to throw into an empty box in the corner. “Where are you getting all these words?”

“You’re so old. It means the Greatest Of All Time.”

I shouldn’t have asked.

“How long have you known each other? Have you met his family? Have you kissed?”

“Stella, please.” I turn back to her, my eyes pleading. “I told you, it’s not like that.”

I don’t want to lie to her. Not about this. I also can’t stomach telling her even the slightest snippet of truth. Problem is, she’s old enough to remember all the things I might lie about if the reality is eventually revealed.

I need to lay low. Glide under the radar.

Distract. Divert. Redirect.

“Do you want to sleep in here tonight?” I force energy into my voice. “There’s plenty of room in my bed. We could stay up late and watch the stars like we used to.”

Her nose scrunches as she breaks eye contact. “Are there any other rooms?”

“There are plenty of rooms. I just thought…” I don’t know… I guess it doesn’t seem so long ago that she was crawling under my covers in the middle of the night, her face soaked from tears, her mind a mess from nightmares of her father’s murder. She spent months cuddled into me. Almost a year. Now she doesn’t even want to spend a night. “Where would you like to sleep?”

“It’s just that I kinda like my own space now. And I wouldn’t want to wake you if I get up during the night and check my phone. I get good cell reception here, by the way. I don’t know what carrier Matthew uses for his phone, but he needs to change.”

I smile despite her revealing my first lie. “Well, you better hurry before Aunt Keira takes the best room.”

“Are you sure?” She scrambles from the bed. “You don’t mind?”

“Not at all.” It’s more dishonesty. “Go. Claim the comfiest bed.”

“Okay.” She dashes for the hall, her eager footsteps clapping into the distance.

I don’t move. Don’t even twitch.

I remain weighed in place while sorrow consumes me.

I thought being with her would strengthen me. That all I needed was to see the one person who loves me unconditionally. But pretending I’m not dying inside has only increased my suffering.

The worst part is that I hate acknowledging I have no fear for her safety under this roof.

Yes, Matthew might worm his way into my daughter’s heart, or Bishop could say something highly inappropriate in an attempt to make her laugh. But I don’t doubt for a second that the men who have ruined my life will never hurt her.

It’s just me that the world wants to bring to its knees.

I force myself to move. To keep busy tidying the remainder of the mess as doors open and close through the house.

Voices murmur from the living room, a low grumble from Decker, a soft reply from my sister, then a sarcastic drawl from Bishop. They should be killing each other. Why aren’t they?

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