Page 10 of A Light in the Darkness
I swallow whatever words were on my tongue, trying to imagine losing a mother at such a tender age. The age-old question pops into my mind. Is it better to have loved and lost or to never have loved at all? At least never knowing my mother means that losing her didn’t hurt. You don’t hurt for what you don’t know. I feel her absence, have my whole life, but it’s not a conscious loss for me.
Inexplicably, I think of Remy. I think I’d rather never have loved him, either. Living without him hurts too fucking much.
Technically, I never told him I loved him, but what else could it have been? Love is the only thing I’ve heard of that makes people go crazy the way I did when I was with him.
“Your sister sounds amazing.” I say honestly. Rhea is like a sister to me, but what I wouldn’t have given to have someone looking out for me when I was growing up. Even if the majority of the homes I lived in hadn’t been bad, school was always a tossup. Being the new kid never gets easier.
“She is.” Moose confirms. “Which is why I take jobs for spoiled rich kids who want to throw their money at me to watch pretty, vapid girls stare into space during class.”
“Hey!” I snap, “I am notvapid!”
He raises an eyebrow when he turns to look at me, taking his eyes off the road for a disconcerting amount of time. He doesn’t say anything to argue his point, and it takes me a minute to realize the other part of his statement.Pretty.
Well, I guess he doesn’t think I’m dumbandugly. The bar is low, I guess.
“So, you get paid a lot to follow me around and you send that money to your sister?”
“Yep.” He tips his head a little as he focuses on the road again. “It’s my turn to take care of her.”
The strangest jealousy flits through me at that, but I chase it away with another question. He’s never told me anything about himself—I’m going to press my luck. “What’s her name? Fawn?”
A laugh escapes him—a real laugh, genuine and uncontained. “Fawn?” He grins, gracing me with an appreciative grin. “You’re actually funny, Monroe.”
“I just thought maybe your mother was into an animal theme… moose, fawn…”
“I see what you did there. Don’t kill the joke.” His grin is wry as he relaxes into the seat, one arm draped over the steering wheel, looking decidedly less tense since we got in the car.
“Have you ever killed anyone, Moose?”
As soon as the words are out, I wish I could stuff them back in. What the ever-loving fuck possessed me to ask that?
But he doesn’t look annoyed by the question. In fact, a little smirk graces the corner of his lips instead. “Haveyouever killed anyone, Claire?”
My heart skips a beat when he turns to me again.
The look in his eyes tells me that wasn’t a question.
Chapter seven
Remy
Dimitri didn’t bother flying home with the rest of us. Instead, he took a separate plane to the States while the rest of us flew back to Costa Rica. I’m not keen on the house guests, so I’d have gone in place of him, but I hate the States more than I hate having people in my house. I also don’t think I’d be able to resist the temptation to stop off at Darrington and pay a visit to my sister.
Besides, as far as house guests go, none of them are terribly exhausting.
Harley sleeps in the room next to me, and I don’t know whether that should be a comfort or not. I watched her crush the tablet camera I’d used to spy on my previous house guest within ten seconds of me showing her to her room. It’s just as well because I have no interest in her beyond whether she intends to murder me in my sleep.
If someone breaks in, at least, I have faith they won’t make it past her door… and that’s assuming they make it past Dom, who is staying in the adjacent room, where Rhea used to.
Most of the guys are staying out in the guesthouse, though they infiltrate my space during the daytime. I guess I can’t blame them—Elaine has made it her job these last few weeks to keep them fed. Honestly, I don’t know how I’ll ever get rid of them once we take Davos out. They’ve grown comfortable around here—so comfortable that Rich walks into my kitchen in just his boxers.
“Jesus, Dick.” Kent groans, throwing the kitchen towel that Elaine discarded a few moments prior.
“I know,” Rich grins. “It’s big, right?”
Next to me at the bar, Harley lifts a single eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “If you think that’s big, I have an uncle who’s a Nigerian Prince and would love to write you into his will.”
“Sign me up,” Rich smirks, dropping onto the bar stool beside her.
