Page 20 of Wretched Soul
“Please say she isn’t coming over here,” he growls.
The moment I look up, Alice locks eyes with me. The woman who left me when I was still in diapers fucking smiles likewe’re family. We didn’t have much to do with her growing up, but if she taught me anything, it was to bury my emotions. I never expected, nor received affection from her, and as my body tenses, there’s nothing she could possibly say or do that would thaw the ice-cold corner of my heart that never received the warmth of our mother’s love.
We’re sharing the table with a few trusted acquaintances who know us well enough to quickly excuse themselves as Alice reaches our table. Only us four brothers are left to witness whatever this is.
“May I join you for a moment?” she asks.
“No.” I reply before the others can respond. I don’t expect their answers would be any different.
Alice ignores me – nothing new there – and pulls out a chair that gives her the best view of each of us. She narrows her eyes at Reid as if he’s some kind of usurper, not of her blood, but she doesn’t challenge his right to be at our table. Good. She’s the only one who shouldn’t be here.
“What do you want, Alice?” Ash asks, his voice as cold as my heart.
“To continue the meeting we should have had months ago,” she says.
Hunter rests his arms on the table, leaning forward so he can be heard above the entertainer who’s taken to the stage. “Do you mean the meeting we were traveling to when your son set his dog on my wife?”
“I told you I didn’t know what Ray was doing,” she says. There’s something about her voice that makes her sound age-worn. I have to concede that she’s always been a beautiful woman, but all of her sixty years are showing tonight. “It was a misunderstanding.”
“Maddie was dragged from her bed under explicit orders from Barrett. What part of that did I get wrong?” Hunter growls.
“Ray was only meant to persuade the girl. And Barrett thought you were getting a divorce.”
Hunter shakes his head. “You just can’t see the bad in him, can you?”
“Let’s not forget that Maddison was betrothed to my s–” Her cheeks flame as she stops herself from referring to Barrett as her son, as if he’s the only one who came out of her vagina. “To Barrett first.”
She really didn’t need to bother correcting herself. None of us are fighting for that recognition. Not anymore.
“He’s lucky I didn’t kill him,” Hunter states. “I still might one of these days.”
He makes to stand up, but Ash puts a hand on his shoulder. “Alice, just spit it out. What is it you came over to say?”
Alice flattens her hands on the table, her red fingernails pressing into the white linen tablecloth. As we wait for her to compose herself, Hunter glances over his shoulder. He’s watching for Maddie’s return. I can’t be sure if he’s planning on intercepting her when she does appear, or if he wants her at the table too. It would serve Alice right to be subjected to Maddie’s sharp tongue.
“I appreciate that some people might judge me for leaving you boys when I did,” she begins.
My laugh holds no mirth. “And you’re looking at four of them right now.”
“Mason,” she says in a softening voice. “You were too young to understand what it was like being married to your father.”
“Young?” I reply, mocking her. “I’m just surprised you hung around long enough for them to cut the umbilical cord before you ran away to bag yourself a rich tycoon.”
“But I left you in capable hands,” she argues. “Lisa always did have a soft spot for your father, and it worked out for the best in the end. Wouldn’t you say?”
Alice looks at each of us in turn, but it’s the one person she ignores that speaks first. “Our mom couldn’t have loved any of us more,” Reid says, his words choking him. “But the man you abandoned was broken in a way that even her love couldn’t heal completely. Dad never got over the guilt of what he saw as his greatest failure. Not because you left him, but because you cut your sons out of your life so damn clinically.”
It's not often I hear anger in Reid’s voice, but it comes as no surprise. He’s grown up absorbing much of the rage that we older brothers carry.
“I watched you all grow up,” Alice says to the rest of us. “And I did pay for your education. You wouldn’t be able to do half the things you get up to now without that support.”
“Support? Was that before or after you told us never to call you Mom?” I ask. When she snaps her head in my direction, I answer for her. “You remember that, don’t you? I would have been fourteen at the time.”
“You know that wasn’t an easy decision for me to make,” she says. “But I did it to protect all of us.”
After abandoning her three sons, Alice had waited until her rich-as-fuck second husband had died before resuming contact. She’d invited us to join her for her summer break that first year, and we’d gone out of curiosity more than anything else. We travelled to Europe so Alice didn’t have to explain us away to her friends, but twelve-year-old Barrett had resented our intrusion. I can remember how he’d grimace every time I called Alice, Mom, so I’d said it just to annoy him. It hadn’t taken long for our strained relationship with Alice to reach breaking point.
“You told us to stop calling you Mom because Barrett didn’t like it. He always did hate to share,” I remind her. “You certainly spoiled that kidrotten.”
