Page 163 of Never Die for a Sinner
“I see you’ve found another family to mooch off of.”
“I see you haven’t.”
She glares at me. I glare back.
“Why are you here,Rebecca? To stir up trouble?”
“I’mherebecause my mother died, Ava. Do I need a reason?”
“You two haven’t spoken in years, and you expect me to believe you carenow? After you told her you hoped she’d rot in hell for embarrassing you when she took me?”
“Yes, it’s always about you, isn’t it?”
“On the contrary, I think it’s always been aboutyou, hasn’t it?”
“You don’t know what I had to put up with from you.”
“No, I guess I don’t. In between your stream of men and your neglectful parenting style, I’m guessing I must have forgotten to remember how I ruined your life when Dad left.”
“You knownothingabout your father,” she hisses. “He was a spineless narcissist who knocked me up and left me withyou.”
“Well, I guess it’s a good thing you no longer have to worry about me, isn’t it?”
“Of course,” she snaps, and although I’m used to the animosity in her words, I have to admit, the bitterness still stings. “Sign over my rightful property, and we’ll be done here. You’ll be free to go back to your party, and Brad and I will leave.”
I freeze. “What property?”
She looks at me like I’ve grown three heads.
“The house, of course.”
We both turn to look at the door, and Brad’s stepping inside. It’s the women’s restroom, but he doesn’t seem to give a damn.
He looks like he’s around my age. Maybe a little older. Regardless, he’s half my mother’s age and looks like the type that would buy minors beer at the local liquor store. Not to mention, he smells like he lit a pack of cigarettes and smoked them all at once.
“Your mother is Della’s next of kin, is she not?”
“No,” I snap, shooting him a look. I mean, honestly, who does he think he is? “She’s not. Gran named me her power of attorney.” I turn back to my mom, tears burning in the backs of my eyes. “The woman just died three days ago, and you’re already homing in on her house?”
“Don’t act like you’ve got the means to use it. It should go to me. I grew up there.”
“So did I,” I fire back.
Mom takes the rolled-up papers out of Brad’s hand and steps over, placing them on the counter in front of me.
“Just sign the papers, and we never have to see each other again.”
I take a step back. Both advance like vipers ready to strike.
“No.”
Brad moves closer, a sadistic glint in his eyes.
“Just do it for your mom, sweetie.”
“Get the hell away from me.”
“Sign the papers, Ava,” my mother growls, while Brad inches closer, crowding over me.
