Page 6 of Shattered Souls
“Answer it,” I say dismissively. When she shakes her head, I put more steel behind my words. “Answer the phone, Lydia.”
Her eyes flick to mine, fear flashing across them before she scrambles to answer the call before it ends.
Bringing the phone to her ear, she sighs in exasperation, “Riley.”
I can’t hear Riley’s side of the conversation, but I astutely watch Lydia’s reaction. Her face is pinched, and it’s clear sheisn’t interested in talking to her daughter. Itcouldbe because I’m standing over her, but I know it’s not.
Her eyes flick to mine, but I don’t avert my gaze or pretend to give her any semblance of privacy. “Now isn’t a good time.” Riley must say about calling back later because Lydia makes a noise of exasperation. “No. I’m busy. We agreed to weekends. That wasyourplan.”
God, this bitch!
I take a few steps away, needing to put space between us before I choke her out right here in the kitchen with moving men directly outside her fucking door.
“You can talk on Saturday,” she snaps before ending the call.
My teeth grind, and I seriously debate the merits of just killing her. It’s unlikely she’ll even tell us who she sold Aurora to. Does she even know who she sold her to? Still, the possibility that shemightstays my hand—but barely.
“That sounded like a spat over custody arrangements if ever I heard one,” I drawl.
She doesn’t latch onto my bait, instead thrusting the check into my hand. Her tone is clipped as she snipes, “I trust this will be the end of our business.”
Accepting that I’m not going to get anything else from this exchange, I give her a slimy grin as I pocket the check. That will make a nice initial deposit to Aurora’s college fund. “I hope you get everything you deserve in life, Lydia.”
Outside, I approach the back of the moving van and stop one of the movers, asking if everything in the van is going to the same place.
“She said that pile there could go to charity.” He points to a small stack of brown boxes. There’s no writing on the outside to indicate their contents. Regardless, I pluck a hundred-dollar bill from my wallet. I hand it over to him, along with my address,and ask if he can deliver them there instead. With a shrug, he takes the money.
Exhaustion tugs at my bones as I slot my key into the front door of the house later that night. I’ve spent the last however many hours driving around, avoiding coming home.
Avoiding facing her.
I deliberately waited until I knew Logan would have dragged her up to bed. Except, as I step into the house, a flash of auburn hair draws my eye to where Riley is sitting at the bottom of the stairs… waiting.
I stop on the threshold, realizing my plan has backfired as Riley’s gaze lifts to mine, and she slowly rises to her feet. She’s wearing an oversized Huskies t-shirt that belongs to Logan, a black pair of boxers peeking out the bottom and accentuating her long, toned legs.
Her loose, wild hair falls past her shoulders, framing her unnaturally pale face. In the light of the hall and the nightmare of the past few days, her hazel eyes glow darker than usual, more brown than green. I hate looking into them now. I hate the lack of spark I see there, the flatness staring back at me.
I watch as she swallows, sucking her lower lip between her teeth as she gathers the courage to ask. Not that she needs to. I already know the only question on her mind.
“You should be resting.” There is nothing but weariness in my tone as I delay the inevitable a moment longer.
“Not like that’s actually possible…” Her fingers twist in the front of her t-shirt, those wide, anxious eyes boring into me.
The force of her words hit me like a hurricane, and I have to steel my spine to stop myself from falling back a step. It’s notthat I didn’t already know how impossibly hard this must be on her.
It’s the guilt.
Knowing that this is all my fault.
That if I hadn’t fucked up, she would be cuddling beside a sleeping Aurora upstairs right now instead of a wraith of her former self, staring at me like I might have all the answers when that’s the last fucking thing I have for her.
“Did you…” Her question hangs like a guillotine in the air between us.
“Dax and his guy are looking into it.” The words are ash in my mouth, and my tongue is thick and swollen as I spit them out. I don’t mention her mom since that turned up jack shit.
I’d given Logan a heads-up about the boxes being delivered to the house, and he messaged earlier to let me know he’d hidden them in the spare room before Riley saw them.
I’ll go through them once I’ve convinced Riley to go back to Logan’s bed. Not that I’m expecting them to reveal anything, but I have to dosomething.The thought of just lying in bed, alone with my thoughts… nope. I can’t rest until I have a lead—anything to alleviate the heartache etched into the very lining of Riley’s being.
