Page 119 of Filthy Promises

I blink back tears. “You are my life.”

“No.” Her voice is firm. “I’m your mother. And it’s my job to take care of you, not the other way around. I’ve failed at that for too long.”

“You haven’t failed at anything,” I protest. “It’s not your fault you got sick.”

“Maybe not. But it would be my fault if I let you sacrifice your future for a past-due bill I can’t pay.”

We sit in silence for a long moment, the only sound the soft beeping of her monitors and the muffled hospital announcements from the corridor.

“What if I can find a way?” I finally ask. “What if I can get the money without… without destroying myself?”

She eyes me suspiciously. “What kind of way?”

I think of Vince. He could write a check that would cover this treatment without even noticing the money was gone.

He took care of me when I was sick, didn’t he?

Then I think of the complications, the implications, the strings that would inevitably come attached to that kind of help.

“Just… a way,” I say vaguely. “Nothing illegal or dangerous.”

“Or demeaning?” she presses, seeing too much as always.

I force a smile. “Would I do anything demeaning?”

“For me? In a heartbeat.” She sighs. “That’s what worries me.”

I lean forward, resting my head on her shoulder the way I did as a child. She still smells like Mom beneath the hospital soap and medication. That’s enough to break my heart all over again.

“Let me try,” I whisper. “Just let me try to find a solution. And if I can’t?—”

“If you can’t, we accept reality,” she finishes for me. “Promise me, Rowan.”

“I promise.”

It’s the first promise I’ve ever made to her that I’m not sure I can keep.

35

VINCE

Something’s wrong with Rowan.

I’m watching her through the slit in my office blinds because that’s all I can fucking bear to do these days.

Legitimate work? Not a fucking chance.

Bratva duties? No thank you.

Stare at her and imagine how I can bend and twist and break her tonight?

That sounds a lot fucking better.

But as she presses the phone to her ear, all that delicious pent-up energy that mirrors mine goes sluicing out of her.

This is bad. Something has her terrified.

When the call ends, I watch through my office window as she fumbles with her phone, dropping it twice before managing to set it down. Her hands are shaking visibly, even from this distance.

---