Minka’s dark eyes study me again, and I wonder what she’s thinking. I’d love to crack open her head and see what goes on inside her mind. I bet it’s a wild place.
“Did you park here because you were too angry to drive or because you want to go shopping?” she asks, changing the subject.
“There’s nothing in White Horse to do. The bars are closed. The bowling alley is in Hickory Creek, while the movie theater is in Common Bend. So we can walk around this mall, or we can go back to the hotel.”
“Since you’re suffering from fucking sickness, I guess I should give your dick a break.”
Minka opens her door and climbs out. I bolt from the SUV, worried about trigger-happy assholes or even horny men making eyes at Minka. She waits for me to join her.
“I like when your hair gets messy like this,” she says, playing with my non-slicked-back hair. “This is how you look when you’re on top of me.”
“Do you want me to fuck you right here?” I ask, groaning as my dick grows too big for my slacks. “Let’s go back to the hotel.”
“Ice it down, Dino. I want to walk around and see if I find you as attractive dressed as you are naked.”
I grip her hand in mine before noticing a dozen college-aged men near the mall entrance. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, I keep her pressed against me.
“You could carry me like a baby on your hip if you think that’d make your point better.”
I frown at a smiling Minka. “What happens when women make eyes at me? Will you let them?”
“Sure. I don’t own you.”
Sharing her smile, I open the mall door. “You’re full of shit.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.”
I give the college boys a nasty look, and the little one appears ready to wet his fucking pants. My ego welcomes the shot of confidence after Minka plays everything too cool. I want her worshipping me, not weighing her options.
“Were your parents ever married?” I ask as we sit on a bench near Macy’s and watch people walk by.
“For about a year. They tied the knot when she was a few months into the pregnancy with me and were divorced not long after I was born. Mom said she wanted to have all her kids in wedlock, but marriage wasn’t for her.”
“Is that why you refuse to submit to me?”
Grinning, Minka slides her right leg over mine. “I’m not submitting to anything. If you want that to happen, you’ll need to break me.”
I shake my head and pat her knee. “No breaking. I want you in one piece when you walk down the aisle.”
“Stop talking about shit like that. You think it’s sexy, but it’s not.”
I wrap an arm around her shoulders and gently poke her in the chest. “You know what I think? Your mom put these ideas in your head about how men aren’t necessary. Now you’re a slave to her bullshit thinking.”
“You don’t know anything about my mother.”
“I know you don’t talk to her. Since I’m on your side, I’d assume that makes her the bad guy.”
Minka shrugs, but I know I’ve hit a nerve. She glances at a passing mother pushing a stroller.
“I don’t hate my mom.”
“Then why aren’t you in contact with her? That’s your choice, right?”
“Yeah, I pretend I hate her because it makes avoiding her easier. I’m more disappointed in her than anything else. I wish she were different, but she isn’t.”
“Different how?”
“Less selfish. Never satisfied. Even when she had things, she wanted more. She was always comparing her life to other people doing better. She never felt blessed. I didn’t mind the crime. Her family only knows one way to make money, and they don’t care how they take from others. But they don’t appreciate what they’ve taken. They only want to find someone else to take from.”
“I gotta say, I don’t have a lot of respect for thieves. The jewel thief, maybe, or a bank robber. Most thieves steal from people barely scraping by. That ain’t how life should be.”
Minka purses her lips, and I know she wants to change the subject. A minute passes before she speaks up again.
“I talk to Verina every month, and she says Mom lives comfortably. I don’t want to know more than that. Imagining her as an old woman makes me feel guilty for never visiting or calling. Of course, my grandmother was even more manipulative once she got old. She really played up the elderly angle. Oh, and her memory was always iffy when it came to her sins.”
“I’m lucky in that my family are pretty good people. I never had to cut any of them off. If I did have to, maybe I’d feel bad after a while.”
“I feel guilty because she’s my mother, not because she deserves it.”
My thumb caresses her tense jaw. “I know. I ain’t saying you should feel any different. What do I know anyway? I’m just thinking maybe it bothers you because it’s unresolved. Not for her, but for you. I mean, you left when you were young. Time has passed, and thinking of her as an old lady all alone makes you feel bad. Maybe if you saw her or talked to her, you’d see her the way she really is.”