Page 113 of Worse Than Wicked
“Actually, that’s worth a lot,” she says, taking a breath and smoothing her hands down the front of her trim black skirt. “It makes me feel better about this, anyway.”
Colt and Mabel join us, Mabel’s gaze moving between me and Lo. “Hi, Gloria.”
“Hi,” Gloria says, licking her lips quickly and glancing at Colt. She smooths her skirt again, then makes a laugh that evenI can tell is insincere. “Damn, this is awkward. I guess you don’t like me very much.”
“I have no feelings about you whatsoever,” Mabel says.
“Oh,” Gloria says. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did. I mean, I bullied you in high school.”
“You did what you were told,” Mabel says. “I know that.”
“Oh,” Gloria says again, glancing at me this time. “I figured you hated me.”
“People often overestimate the impact they have on others,” Mabel says. “I never thought you had any feelings about me one way or the other.”
“That’s good,” Colt says, smiling. “Because she never bore you any ill will, and since we’re together, it’s nice to see you don’t have anything against her either. I want my sister and my lady to get along.”
“Okay,” Mabel says. “Is that what you wanted to tell me?”
“No,” Gloria says, swallowing and glancing around. Finally, her gaze settles on me. “Um, so… Did you check up on me once I went to Cedar Crest?”
“No,” I say, scowling at her. “Why would I? You’d served your purpose. Mabel just told you how insignificant you are to us.”
“Okay,” she says slowly. “Well, I had a baby. I put it up for adoption. It was an open adoption, but I didn’t want to know anything about it. I don’t even know the sex. I only know… It was probably a Dolce.”
“What.”
My voice is flat, with no inflection.
Gloria gulps. She isn’t like Mabel. She’s weak. She groveled and trembled and begged all the time. She has no dignity. No right to do what she’s done. “I don’t know for sure,” she says quickly. “I only saw it once. It’s just a guess.”
“You had our baby,” I say carefully. “And you didn’t tell us?”
“Look, you fucking psychopath,” Colt cuts in, his brows drawn into a fierce frown, his words a harsh growl. “You raped her. And before you start to spew your bullshit about how she was willing, we all know that’s not true. I know it, she knows it, and you know it, even if you won’t admit it. Hell, Mabel knows it, and she wasn’t even in the state when it happened. Everyone knows what you are, Baron.”
He stares me down, his smoky blue eyes dark with a fury so potent even I can identify it. If he thinks he’ll intimidate me, though, he should know better.
I don’t budge an inch. “What does that have to do with this?”
“It has everything to do with it,” Colt says. “Your victim has no obligation to inform you of the consequences of your assault. So if you’re going to get all bitchy and act like you had a right to know, save it. You never had a right to anything. You’re lucky she’s fucking speaking to you, let alone telling you this. So unless you’re going to thank her for telling you, don’t say another fucking word to her.”
I think he might finally lose his temper after all these years and throw the first punch, but before I can make that happen, Ma comes stumbling over, a drink held aloft in one hand.
“Baron,” she cries, and then her heel turns in the soft grass, and she lurches sideways, towards the casket. Her body knocks against it, and the hollow sound is like there’s nothing inside at all. But I know there is, even if it’s not Duke anymore. It starts to tip, and I lunge for it, grabbing the top end with both arms, wrestling for control. Colt darts forward and grabs the foot end, bringing it back into balance. We stare at each other alongits length, neither of us speaking. My heart is beating harder than it does on my morning runs.
He could have let it fall.
After all we did, he could have let it fall, let the lid be knocked off and my brother’s body roll facedown into the dirt. He could have laughed, said now he’s where he belongs.
In his place, it’s what I would have done.
But he just blinks those inscrutable eyes at me, a hidden message in their depths that I will never understand. Then he swallows and steps back.
Ma is on the ground, having fallen when the coffin moved. “Baron,” she howls. “Look what you did! Threw me on the ground like trash. Your own mother!”
“Ma,” I snap, grabbing her under the arms and hauling her to her feet. “Get yourself together. You’re making a scene.”
She throws herself into my arms, her body a deadweight around my neck as she clings on. “My special boy,” she says. “You won’t leave me, will you? You’re all I have left.”
