There’s a lump of emotion in my throat that I don’t want to feel. “She did that for us, Destiny.”
Her jaw tightens. “She did it for herself. You know he hit her, Lilah. You spent years watching it happen.”
“But, right then…she saved us.”
She stands and moves to the kitchen. “Believe what you want. I know she hasn’t given a shit about us for most of our lives.”
I know she’s right, but all of a sudden, I want to hear it from her. “I want to see her.”
Her eyes narrow and she starts shaking her head. “No way, Lilah.”
“It’s been two years. She’s got to be clean now.”
“I don’t care. She’s not our mother anymore.”
I know from the look on her face that I’m not going to win this. I take a deep breath and click on the TV.
?
When I walk into Sam Hill, Bran is behind the bar and every inch of me aches when I see him. I’ve taken the last five days to pull my shit together. He’s texted me every day to check in, but he’s given me space.
I set my guitar case on the stool that seems to be mine now and unlatch it.
Bran slides a Coke across the bar to me and sets out a tip jar. “Was hoping I’d see you tonight.”
Now that he’s snagged my gaze, I can’t shake free. He comes slowly around the bar and takes my hand, then pulls me through the kitchen door. He pulls me into his arms and buries his face into my hair. “God, I’ve missed you.”
I sink against him and soak up the feeling of his strong arms holding me close, the warmth of his breath in my hair, the tenderness of his lips on my forehead, down my temple, across my cheekbone, eventually finding my mouth. He kisses me, so slowly, but with every ounce of himself.
Right here, right now, I know this is where I belong.
“I love you,” I whisper when he draws away.
“I want so badly to help you, Lilah, but I feel so fucking helpless.”
I look up at him and he kisses the tip of my nose. “There’s something you can do.”
“Anything.”
“I need a ride to San Francisco.”
?
I asked Destiny to come with us, but she wouldn’t even consider it. She tried to forbid me to come, but I told her I needed this for my sanity.
When I walk into the prison, I’m shaking. Bran has my hand and I’m gripping so hard I’m sure I’m about to snap his fingers. They make me store my bag in a locker and go through a metal detector before they let me into the visitation room.
“I’ll be right here if you need me,” Bran says, gesturing at a row of chairs near the storage lockers.
I press against him and he wraps me in his arms.
He kisses the top of my head. “I’ve got you.”
“Don’t let me go.”
“Never,” he says, squeezing tighter.
I want to ask him to come with me, but there are things I need to ask my mom that I’m not totally sure I want anyone else, even Bran, hearing. Though, I can’t imagine I won’t tell him everything at some point.
He kisses me again and I draw away and turn for the door. I walk into a large room with rows of tables and benches bolted to the floor. There are a few tables near the back that are occupied, but the majority are not. I take a seat at the one across from the door and wait. It’s a few minutes later that a door in the back opens and a woman walks through. She’s skinny enough that her gray jumpsuit hangs off her. Her blond hair is pulled into a ponytail at the base of her neck. When she lifts her head I see Destiny’s blue eyes looking at me, hollow, but not quite as dead as the last time I saw them.
I stand as she approaches the table. “Mom.”
“God, Lilah. You’re so beautiful.” She looks like she’s deciding if she should shake my hand or hug me or just sit.
This isn’t some big, touching reunion. I have no idea what I’m feeling for this woman who was never really my mother. I’m not really even sure if I’m ready for the conversation I have to have to get the answers I need. I sit and she slides into a seat across from me.
“You look okay,” I say, only realizing I wish she didn’t when I hear the disappointment in the words. I want to know she’s suffered at least as much as Destiny and me, but she looks like nothing’s ever happened.
“Despite everything,” she says, flicking her jumpsuit, “I’m good. How are you and Destiny?”
I glare at her. “There’s no point in pretending you care now when you never did before.”
Her eyes moisten, but I refuse to let myself feel even a pang of regret for telling her the truth, even if she doesn’t want to hear it.
“I need to know what happened the night of the fire.”
She looks suddenly uncomfortable and shoots a glance at the guard near the door she came through. “What do you want to know?”
“What did they arrest you for?”
She picks at frayed fingernails. “Your dad wasn’t very discreet. The cops had been watching the house for months. When the fire broke out they figured it was a lab explosion.”