Page 104 of Wounded King
"What choice did I have?" She whispers.
You had a choice, lady. You chose to disappear your kids and frame their father. And now you're sitting here, playing the part of the wounded dove, all while sharpening your claws beneathmytable.
She's good, I'll give her that. Her kids sit like stunned birds, caught between reality and myth. I let the silence linger just a second too long.
"I'm sorry," Violet breathes. She turns to her mother, her voice cracking. "I just… I wish you had told us."
Of course she does. That's Linda's real gift—making people apologize for not understandingherlies fast enough. I don't know the whole story yet. I don't know why she left, but it wasn't because shesuddenlyfound out what her husband did for a living.Workedfor the casino, my ass. None of the regular casino workers own mansions or have cash accessible in the millions for their wives to take off with. She knew.
"How could I, sweetheart? I know you kids indulged in fantasies about your father. What kid in your situation wouldn't? How could I destroy that and tell you he wasn't a hero, but a monster?"
I feel like crying at my mom's words; I think of all the times I pushed her, and I feel guilty, so, so guilty. But I keep myself still, I don't want to wake Mark. Precious Mark, I didn't realize how much I missed my nephew until they walked in. He's the sweetest baby, and I swear he could sleep through a hurricane of noise, but one wrong move while someone is holding him and all hell breaks loose.
"Oh, Mom." Elaine is closer to her than I am and hugs her. I hate seeing my mom so upset.
"How did he find us now?" Sebastian asks.
Mom looks at Marcello, but he wouldn't have done this. He didn't even know. I didn't know. And then it hits me. Guilt strikes like a hot, searing sword right through my abdomen, going straight for my heart. The pain of it burns hotter than fire. I rip my hand from Marcello's grip, forgetting about Mark. I jump off the couch, and he instantly starts to fuss, but I'm too distracted to calm down. "Oh no!"
"Violet?" Marcello looks at me, questioning, ready to catch me, because I'm so close to falling. So, so close. Marcello's wasn't the only basement I climbed down into, was it? I opened another door, too. One mom told me not to open. Elaine's eyes are worried for me as she holds out her arms to take Mark. I place him into her embrace before I begin to pace the floor.
"This is my fault," I lament, "All my fault."
Marcello is instantly at my side, pulling me into his arms, "Whatever it is, tesoro, I promise we'll work it out."
"What did you do?" Mom cries.
"Vi?" Sebastian sounds so confused. My little brother.Oh no. Oh no, no, no!I was so selfish. Just like my mom always counseled me not to be.When you do something, Violet, you need to think of the consequences.
I flee Marcello's embrace and run to my mother. "Oh, Mom, I'm so sorry. So sorry." Tears are running down my face. "I wasn't thinking."
"It's alright, baby girl, it's okay. We'll figure it out. What did you do?" Her voice is so soothing. Fueling my already churning guilt.
"I…" A sob cracks my voice, and then Marcello is at my side, pulling me up, away from my mom and into his chest.
"Whatever it is, cara mia, it's nothing we can't fix." He assures me, and I want to believe him. So badly.
"I did a DNA test," I confess. "I found… I found… cousins…"
"Oh my God, who?" Mom asks, her face turning paler by the second. This is all my fault. Mine. I'm the most rotten person in the entire world. I put us all in danger. And yesterday… yesterday? "They were after me, because of… me? Not for you?" I turn to Marcello.
His nod is as heavy as his expression. My legs give out, but he has me. He always has me. Grateful, I lean into him, but the weight of what I did still bears down on me.
"Marcello, I'm so sorry."
He tilts my chin up, stormy gray eyes boring into mine, "You have nothing to be sorry about. Do you hear me?"
"But I… I ordered the test. If I hadn't done that… they wouldn't have known… they wouldn't have found us." And then, even heavier, "They could have killed you, Marcello, because of me."
All the while, I've been runningfromhim because I thoughthewould put me in danger. Seems like I managed that very well on my own.
"Violet," his voice is strong and forceful, "look at me. This isnotyour fault."
"But I?—"
"Not your fault." His eyes pull from mine to my mother. He can't hold her responsible for this, can he? Mom fled an impossible situation. "You would have never done the test if she had told you the truth. You had a right to be curious. Youhavea right to be curious," he insists.
I hear his words and understand what he is saying, but neither my mind nor my heart can accept them. There is only room for my raging guilt. "And now you are in danger because of me." I look at Marcello.
