Page 106 of Devil's Iris
“Mikkel has been so good to me since John’s death.” An unreadable expression flashes, then shutters as she wrings her hands together. “He was even kind enough to speak with the loan sharks to lend me and Ethan some money when we were desperate and?—”
“You didn’t think he had an agenda? Loaning you—a known drug addict—and a minor money you both had no hope of ever paying back?”
“What agenda? Why would he?—”
“Think, Amelia. When the loan came due, what did they want?” My voice grates with impatience.
She frowns, confusion clouding her features before clarity hits. “They wanted Leni to work at their strip club.” Her cheeks flush with embarrassment. “But Mikkel didn't own that loan company, so how could he be involved with?—”
“He does own the company. He lied to you.”
The transformation is immediate and volcanic. Rage floods her face, turning those gray eyes dark. “That motherfucker.I’m going to kill him.”
My brows hike up at that.
She’s not pretending. This is real anger.
In her own twisted, broken way, she does care about her daughter.
“Not if I get to him first.” I narrow my gaze on her. “You are going back to rehab. You’ve done enough.”
38
LENI
The house buzzes with constant motion.
Cars pulling into the driveway, then leaving again. Doors slamming. Footsteps echoing through the hallways, voices drifting up from downstairs.
People coming, people going.
But I’m too tired to move from the bed. Too tired to even try. Yet no matter how exhausted I feel, sleep won’t come. Can’t come.
Every time I close my eyes, I hear the gunshot and I’m back there, feeling my body slamming into the concrete.
Then I see Dean.
First as he was when he opened my door—alert, scanning the parking lot. While I rolled my eyes at him, thinking he was being paranoid and overdoing the whole bodyguard thing.
Such a stupid, careless thought.
Then I see him again as he was at the end—dead. That gaping hole in his head. The blood and brain matter pouring out…
He would still be breathing if I hadn’t decided to go to the courthouse. If I’d just stayed home.
There were signs. The hearing had already started before I even woke up. The traffic blocked us on the way. I should have told him to turn around, to take me back home. If I had, he would be alive.
He’s dead because of me.
I thought I was all cried out, but my breath hitches and fresh tears spill down my cheeks.
“Oh, darling. It’s okay,” Emily murmurs, squeezing my hand. “Getting shot is like a rite of passage in this family.”
The other ladies left a few minutes ago—Gianna to check on her babies after sitting with me almost the whole day, Elira because she was exhausted. She’s due in a few weeks, and honestly, I’m touched she even came at all. But I could only stare at them blankly while they traded stories about their own gunshot wounds like they were discussing weekend plans.
Their presence comforted me. A little. Kept the worst of my guilty thoughts at bay. But at the same time, irritation crawled up my spine, scratching under my skin. I couldn’t shake the feeling that they were missing the point entirely.
I swallow as I turn to look at Emily. “When are you going home?”
