Page 10 of Shattered Souls
“That we do.” Bertram lifts his glass of champagne in a toast. Lydia and Grayson follow suit. Me? I can’t seem to make my arms move, much less lift the glass without shaking and spilling it everywhere.
“Riley.” I can’t stop the flinch at hearing my name on his tongueagainand feeling the weight of his perverted gaze on me.“I understand you are at Halston with Grayson. What are the chances?” Bertram chuckles, but there’s a hardness in his eyes.Oh, he doesn’t like it one bit that I’m attending the same school as his son.“Have the two of you had the opportunity to catch up?”
Thankfully, Grayson fields that question. “It’s a large enough campus, and she’s a freshman while I’m a senior. We don’t exactly run in the same circles, and I haven’t had much desire to go out of my way to reacquaint us,” he drawls. Turning to look at me, there’s none of the usual possessiveness I’ve become accustomed to seeing in his eyes. Instead, they’re hard and cold—just like his father’s. It’s frightening. Terrifying, honestly. Especially when he accompanies it with that forced smile. “However, I’m willing to bury the hatchet—for the sake offamily.”
“Yes, let’s leave all that ugliness in the past,” Bertram agrees, his voice a touch less hostile than it was a moment ago. “You’re brother and sister; you should get to know each other as such.”
My insides twist.Yeah, I have never looked at Grayson as a brother. And with how he looks at me, I’d judge he’s never seen me that way either.
“Lydia, how are you settling into the new house?” Grayson redirects.
In between the waitress taking our orders, Lydia blathers about the new house. The one that isn’t as nice as what she had before, butwill do for now.
The entire time, Bertram sneaks glances my way while sipping from his glass of whiskey. I shuffle uncomfortably in my chair, and it’s evident that Grayson is the only one feigning interest in Lydia’s rambling.
However, when I shift in my chair for the fifth time, he spreads his legs under the table so his thigh presses againstmine. It’s the only source of support he can offer, and I soak it up, leaning into his warmth.
Food is delivered, and I mostly push mine around my plate so it looks like I’ve eaten something while Lydia and Bertram continue talking as though this truly is a family dinner. Honestly, I’m barely listening. I’m just trying to get through this, counting down the minutes until it’s acceptable to make my escape.
Anytime Bertram attempts to pull me into the conversation by asking me personal questions, my mother slyly diverts the conversation back to her. I don’t care. She’d probably stop if she realized she was actually doing me a favor.
However, as the meal drags on, I see her becoming more irritated. She starts openly glaring at me across the table and making passive-aggressive remarks anytime Bertram compliments me.
By the time our main course is taken away, my mother dabs at her mouth with her napkin before piercing me with a fierce stare. “I need to use the ladies’ room. Riley, accompany me.”
It’s not a question, though I don’t argue because I do need to talk to her—alone.
Pasting on a fake smile, I say, “Sure, mother,” as I place my linen napkin on the table and slide out of my chair. My eyes connect briefly with Grayson’s, a silent reassurance that I’ll be okay before I turn and follow my mother away from the table.
Storming into the bathroom, she stalks the length of it, pushing open stall doors before whirling on me. “What are you doing here?” she hisses, spitting venom now that she doesn’t have an audience.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I stare her down. “Why are you dodging my calls?” I ask instead, ignoring her outburst. “I want to talk to Aurora.”
Just saying her name has a fresh wave of pain slicing through me, and my hands shake as I form a fist, wanting so badly to call Lydia out on her lies.
This is how we decided to play it, though: Apply pressure while Dax and his IT guy do their thing. Royce assures me that Dax has confirmed that his computer guy is the best. If Aurora has shown up on a camera, had her picture posted online, or her name mentioned anywhere, he’ll find it. We only need one digital breadcrumb to trace the footprints back to whoever has her.
The problem with that is that it means we’re currently sitting on our asses waiting for said breadcrumb to materialize. In the meantime, I’m slowly losing my sanity without my daughter. And being face-to-face with the woman who fuckingsoldher is messing with my head. I don’t want to play dumb.
Iwantto shove her against the wall and demand to know who she fucking soldmy daughterto.
Iwantto wrap my hands around her throat and watch the fear that is eating me from the inside out flood her eyes.
Iwantto make her as weak and helpless as I have felt every single second since Grayson told me what was happening.
“I won’t let you ruin this for meagain.” My mother continues on her tirade as though I never spoke, pacing the length of the bathroom. “You stole him from me four years ago, and I’ve had to suffer the consequences of your selfishness since then. Ideservethis.”
The fucking gall of this bitch!
“Please,” I sneer. “We both know you only went back to him because no one else would put up with your ass. You’re not twenty-two anymore,Lydia, and plastic surgery only gets you so far. Why have a fake, dried-up version of a younger woman when you can have the real deal?”
She stops in her pacing to gape at me. “How dare you!” Marching toward me with her finger pointed at my face, she snarls, “I can keep Aurora from you. Make it so younever see her again.”
Except she’s already done that. She’s already sold her bargaining chip—the one thing she used to manipulate and control me.
Instead of cowering to her as I typically would, I stand taller, glaring down my nose at her. “I’d like to see you try. You think all I did was get those lawyers to send you a sweet little letter?” I hiss, stepping closer. “They’re going to ensure I regain full custody of my daughter. They’re going to drag your decrepit ass over the coals. Reveal you to the whole world for the manipulative, narcissistic bitch that you are.”
Well, thathadbeen the plan. Logan’s plan. And one that I’d started to believe could actually be a reality one day… until that night.
