Page 28 of Blackmailing the Bad Girl

Chapter Seven

Summer stepped off the bus and walked the short distance to the house. She hesitated at the gate. The garden was a riot of color with a yellow rambling rose climbing over the small porch and sky-blue door.

As a child, her mother had often told her stories of the home they would have lived in if life had been fair and not a load of crap, if her father had done the right thing and married her mother. It would be cozy, with a pretty garden and a blue front door. Blue had been her mother’s favorite color. Summer had kept all those long-ago stories in her mind while she was searching for the perfect house for her mom.

They hadn’t seen each other for more than two years, since before she’d been arrested. She hadn’t had the money for bail. And the only person who might have put up bail for her was Danny, and she hadn’t wanted to involve him, in case the police started to look for other connections, and then both their lives would unravel. She hadn’t wanted to take Danny down with her.

She and her mother had written to each other over the years, but never saying anything important. But then, her mother had never asked where the money had come from to buy this house. Or to pay for the live-in housekeeper and other help she needed. And Summer had been happy about that. The less her mother knew, the better.

She’d wanted to give her something. To make her happy.

After she’d finally gotten rid of Nik that morning, she’d made a trip to the nearest supermarket, stocking up on a few essentials, painkillers and toothpaste being on top of the list. A slice of toast for breakfast had settled her stomach, and she’d felt almost ready to face the day.

Now her stomach was churning again.

Was her mother happy?

She’d never been a particularly happy woman, and after the accident when Summer was fourteen, she’d retreated into herself. They’d been separated then. Her mother had been unable to care for her, and Summer had been put into the foster system, despite trying to explain that she could look after them both. She’d visited every chance she could get, but her mother had been closed off, distant, bitter.

In the months before her arrest, Summer had thought her mother was opening up at last, making the best of her situation. But then Summer had gone into prison, and despite the letters, she had no clue how her mom was really feeling.

She forced her finger to the bell and pressed. Footsteps sounded from inside, drawing closer. The door opened and the woman she paid to look after her mother opened the door. She wasn’t your typical housekeeper.

Ginny was around thirty, with spiky red hair and a ring through her left eyebrow. She wore jeans and a T-shirt. Summer had been incredibly lucky to find her. In fact, she was another friend of Danny’s. He’d known Summer was looking for someone and recommended her. She had a ten-year-old daughter who lived with them as well.

She grinned when she saw Summer. “Hey, the prodigal returns.”

“Thanks,” Summer said wryly. “How is she?”

“She’s good.”

Summer bit her lip.

“No, really. She’s good.” Ginny rested a hand on Summer’s arm. “One thing though. She knows what you did. Where the money came from.”

“How?”

“Danny told her.”

“Danny?”

She was sounding like a parrot, but she couldn’t get her head around this.

“She was bitter after you went away. She’d been coming along well…improving, and then she just sank into herself. Said it was her fault, she’d brought you up all wrong, blah, blah, blah.” She led the way into the hall and paused again. “I didn’t know what to do. So I talked to Danny, and he said he’d come see her. He’s been coming every week.”

“Why didn’t I know about this?”

She gave a small shrug. “We didn’t tell you because you’d been so adamant about him staying out of your life. We didn’t want you to worry.”

Her head was hurting again. Why couldn’t something in her life just go as expected? She was glad her mother was happy, but what had Danny told her?

Ginny pushed open the door to the sitting room and ushered her in. “I’ll go make some tea.”

The room was spacious, with a big floral sofa, french windows leading out to the back garden, and a wide archway that led into a dining room. Summer had gotten a specialized architect in to redesign the house to make it wheelchair-friendly. It had been expensive but well worth the money.

Taking a deep breath, she entered the room, her eyes drawn immediately to the woman in the wheelchair. For a moment, she didn’t recognize her. Her blond hair hung loose around her shoulders, her face made up discreetly. She was slender, and if it weren’t for the wheelchair, it would be hard to tell that something was wrong.

She was a beautiful woman, but had always worn a pinched, bitter look. And after the accident, she’d developed lines of pain and tension. Now they were gone, smoothed away. Her lips curved up in a smile, reflected in her blue eyes.

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