I didn’t look at him. I kept staring at the phone. I was a mixture of mortified and… I didn’t know what.
Final y, I put the handset back in the receiver.
“You… have gotta be… fuckin’ shittin’ me,” Mace repeated and, final y, I looked at him.
Uh-oh.
He was pissed.
“Mace –”
His hands went to the phone, he twisted his torso violently, ripping it out of its socket, the cord flying. He got to violently, ripping it out of its socket, the cord flying. He got to his feet and, using the entirety of his upper body for momentum, he threw it across the room.
It exploded against the wal .
Erm.
Wow.
My eyes moved from the phone back to him. “Mace.” His gaze sliced to mine.
“Those ties have been severed,” Mace said, his voice trembling with fury.
“Mace.”
“You’re not phonin’ that bitch again. I don’t care if she’s dyin’.”
“Mace.”
He exploded, “You’re their fucking daughter! Do they not know how fucking precious you are?” Oh dear.
I wasn’t sure this was about me.
Wel , maybe it was mostly about me but it wasn’t al about me.
I got close to his tense body and put my hands to his neck.
“Mace, look at me.”
His eyes tilted down but his head didn’t. His chest was moving in and out rapidly like he was breathing heavily.
“She cal ed you selfish,” he told me.
“Forget it.”
“Said you didn’t think about her when you left.”
“I heard her,” I whispered.
“She ever think of you when he was abusin’ you?”
“Mace.”
“Answer me, Stel a.”
“No,” I said quickly.
“She ever protect you?”
“No.”
“She used you to protect herself.”
I got closer. “Mace, don’t –”
“She did, didn’t she?”
“Yes,” I said quietly.
“She’s worse than your Dad.”
“She’s not. She’s just weak.”
“Don’t fuckin’ defend her. She’s worse.”
I squeezed his neck. “Okay. She’s worse.” My hands slid up to the sides of his head into the hair behind his ears and I pressed with my fingers until his head tilted down. “Don’t be angry. They’re not worth it.”
“I gave them six thousand dol ars.”
I closed my eyes.
“You know what I’d give to have my fuckin’ phone ring and Caitlin’s voice comin’ at me from the other end?” he asked.
I opened my eyes and saw the demons in his.
Shit.
“What would you give?” I whispered.
“Everything,” he whispered back.
“I love you,” I said softly, jumping the gun, saying it far faster than I planned.
But I couldn’t help it. It just slipped out. I couldn’t have stopped it even if I tried.
Mace stared at me.
So, even though it scared the effing hel out of me, since I’d thrown it out there, I might as wel go with it.
So I did.
“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me in my whole life. My hands could be crushed so I couldn’t play guitar ever again and I wouldn’t care as long as I had you.” Mace continued to stare at me.
I pressed my body to his, got close to his face, looked into his beautiful eyes and made a big mistake.
“It’s not my place to say but, I’m guessing, I was Caitlin, I had a brother like you I wouldn’t have gone through what I went through. I would have known a good life, a happy life, a lucky life. I bet you protected her from your father. I bet you kept her safe. She was lucky, until the end, to have you.”
“Quiet Stel a.”
“It’s true.”
“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talkin’ about.”
“I bet I do,” I whispered.
His hands came to my biceps, his fingers curled around and they did it so tightly, they hurt.
“Quiet,” he growled.
I nodded but I didn’t wince and I didn’t move away, even as his fingers bit deep into my flesh.
We stared at each other, his face tight, I hoped mine was open.
But he didn’t give me anything.
Not even a little thing.
He was closed.
He was gone.
Shit!
Then the door opened.
I looked around Mace as he twisted toward the door.
We saw Vance swing in. His eyes took in the destroyed phone then skimmed across us both but locked on Mace.
Then Vance said, “We got trouble.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Social Call
Stella
I fol owed Mace and Vance into the reception area. I nearly ran into Mace’s back because he stopped dead the minute he hit the room. I stepped around him and stared.
Preston Mason was sitting, legs crossed, calm as you please, on the couch.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, Jerky George, the DA, was standing just inside the door next to a somewhat unattractive older woman with a pinched face and bags around the ankles of her hose.
Vance had spirited me into the offices for my lunch with Mace. Shirleen hadn’t been around when I arrived but now she was there. She wasn’t seated behind the reception desk. She was standing and she was looking pissed off.
“You’re jokin’,” Shirleen snapped in the direction of the older woman.