Page 52 of Hart of Darkness
Ted grasped the sides of my arms. “She wants to see you.”
I jumped back like a kangaroo. “You’ve talked to her?” I choked on the words. “You’re supposed to be my friend. You’re not supposed to do something I said no to.”
“Family is important, Mags. You’ve got a lot of pent-up hatred for not only Cory but for the way you were shuffled around the foster system. Maybe if you heard her side of the story, you could sleep a little better knowing why she did what she did.”
“Do you know why?”
“If I did, it’s not my place to tell you. You wouldn’t believe me anyway. You need to hear it from the horse’s mouth.”
“How did you find her? Don’t forget the firemen at the firehouse named me.” According to one of my social workers, my file indicated that one of the firemen had been smitten with me. He’d wanted to adopt me, but he’d been single and didn’t have the resources, but he’d given me the name Maggie, after his mom. The last name of Marx—well, the first family I’d lived with gave me their last name, which was Marx. That was the extent of my knowledge of my heritage.
Ted rested his body on the edge of his desk. “I talked to the people in the homes surrounding the firehouse. After many conversations, dead ends, leads, and trails, I found someone who remembered a pregnant young girl who had been dating a boy in the neighborhood. All I needed were the names of the girl and boy, and…” He extended the envelope. “Here’s her info.”
Curiosity was a fucking bitch. “I’m not ready.”
He tucked the envelope in the front pocket of my messenger bag. “Don’t open it until you’re ready.” He prodded me with his dark-brown eyes.
Suddenly, I was wondering if I’d gotten my blond hair and green eyes from my mom. I wondered if she was on the heavy side like me. I didn’t consider myself fat. I had wide hips, thick thighs, a small waist, and large breasts. I liked to call myself big-boned. My gynecologist referred to me as one of those ladies who had the structure for making lots of babies. I’d laughed at her comment. I didn’t see myself having a ton of kids, or one for that matter. Which made me also wonder if my mom had had any more children. Boy, I wasn’t sure it would sit well with me if she’d had a family yet given me up.
I started for the door, with the envelope burning a hole in my bag. I was tempted to dump it into the trash can on my way out.
“Mags,” Ted called.
I tossed a look over my shoulder.
“Please watch your back.”
“I’m too old to be sold to the highest bidder,” I said. “They won’t touch me.” I wasn’t certain about that.
As soon as I was outside in the open air, I clutched my stomach, willing the pain to go away, or maybe it was hunger pangs. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
My phone chimed. Dillon’s name blared on the screen. “Hey,” I answered.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Was Ted angry that you helped Nadine?”
I guessed I sounded as if the world was ending.
“Ted was pissed, but it’s nothing.” More than nothing. I’d gotten my ass chewed out by Ted over Nadine, then he’d launched a surprise attack I wasn’t prepared for. “Ted told me the Crow is closed for renovations.”
“I know. I had a bit of time after I took care of my family business. They open next week.”
That news sucked the big one. I was about to spill everything Ted had told me about Miguel and the Black Knights then remembered it wasn’t for the public, not even Dillon. I had to respect Ted’s wishes. After all, he trusted me. “I have work to do anyway.”
“I sense something other than Nadine is bothering you. You know you can talk to me,” he said sweetly.
The problem was I wouldn’t want to talk. At the moment, I wanted to screw someone’s brains out. I wanted to feel something other than hatred, despair, and frustration. I wanted to feel as though my life had a purpose other than revenge.
“It’s family business. Talk soon?”
“You know where to find me.”
As soon as we hung up, I wanted to bawl my eyes out. The toughness I wore as a shield and a badge of honor cracked. Suddenly, I wasn’t sure who I was.
If you know your past, then you can conquer your future.Those were my words and mine alone. As much as that statement made sense to me, I didn’t think I could meet my mother, let alone forgive her.
