Filed to story: Reclaimed Book by Roxie Ray
Stephan sighed. “Are you going to answer?”
My frown deepened. “Probably. I don’t really want to. But…”
“Then don’t. It sounds like you’ve given her a lot of chances.”
I set my phone aside. “It’s not that simple.”
Stephan, now dressed in his usual uniform of jeans and a black T-shirt, stepped forward and tugged the robe a little tighter around me. I was basically swimming in it, since it was made for a dragon more than a head taller than me. “I know. She’s your mother and Dylan’s grandmother before she’s the Liz Founty I know from around town.”
I cringed. I hated to think of the reputation Mom had in town-an unreliable drunk and a sloppy maneater. “I don’t know how to handle her right now.”
He nodded. “If you want her to stay in your life, I won’t interfere,” he said. “But if she talks to you and Dylan like she did that night, I won’t keep my mouth shut, either.”
My heart clenched hard. For ten years, I’d been alone.
Not completely, of course. I had Dylan, my pride and joy. Cassidy was always supporting me. Even Suri had helped out, when he wasn’t too busy being my boss. Dad had been there for me, until he’d passed away.
But I didn’t have a partner. No solid, sturdy foundation. No one who would have my back, no matter what, no matter when.
Could Stephan be that for me?
I was almost too afraid to imagine it. If I had him like this and had to let him go… I didn’t know how I’d recover. Losing him once had been hard enough.
I swallowed hard. Instead of thinking about that, I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him down for another one of those addictive kisses. “Thank you,” I whispered against his lips. “For having my back.”
Stephan pulled back, and his hazel eyes held mine for a long moment. “I’ve always got your back, Harley. No matter what.”
God, I wanted to believe that. I really did.
I kissed him again, then slipped out of his bedroom and into my own. It sounded like Dylan was awake behind his closed door, and I sighed in relief that I’d snuck back to my room without Dylan seeing. I wasn’t quite ready to explain this yet, not when I had no idea how to explain it to myself.
It sure as hell didn’t feel like “going slow”.
By the time I’d dressed and dried my hair-always an endeavor-Dylan and Stephan were having breakfast. I’d had some time to think and some time to read and re-read Mom’s texts.
Better to get this over with.
“Morning, kiddo,” I said. “You sleep all right?”
“Uh-huh,” Dylan said around a mouthful of bacon. “I dreamed about flying.”
“It’ll happen sooner than you think,” Stephan said. He patted
Dylan’s hair, then handed me a mug of hot coffee.
“Thanks. Do you have time to hang out with Dylan this morning?”
Dylan craned around in his chair at the table to look at me. “Where are you going?”
“I’ve got a little errand to run,” I said. “Shouldn’t take too long.”
Stephan nodded. The small furrow in his brow told me he knew I was going to meet my mother. “Let me call one of the guys and get you an escort.”
“I’m not going far,” I said. “And it’s barely midday. I just want to get this over with, Steph.”
He frowned. He clearly didn’t like the idea of me leaving on my own. I didn’t want to wait around for a chaperone, though. This was family business, not clan business.
“All right,” Stephan said finally, with a sigh. “But you’ll call if you need anything? Anything at all?”
“I will. I promise.”
I pulled up the gravel driveway of my mother’s small cabin tucked into the woods. At least only her car was there, and not some random man’s. I knocked on the door, and when there was no answer, I pushed it open and stepped inside. “Mom? I’m here.”
Mom hustled down the stairs. She looked frazzled, dressed in jeans and a big hoodie that I’d never seen before-maybe one of those random men’s. There were dark circles under her eyes. “There you are! Finally!”
I glanced toward the kitchen. It was a mess of wine bottles, and the coffeemaker looked like it hadn’t been touched since I left. I wanted a cup of coffee, but I was a little afraid of what might be growing in it. “What’s so urgent that you wanted to see me today?”
Mom sighed. “It’s about your father.”
My heart sank. How stupid was I? It had been ridiculous to think she might have wanted to apologize. Once again, I’d set myself up for disappointment. My mother didn’t care when she hurt me. Sometimes I wondered if she even noticed.
She sat down on the couch and waved me over to join her. Hesitantly, I perched on the edge of the cushion at the other end. I definitely wasn’t about to get comfortable with her. “What about Dad?”
We didn’t really talk about Dad, not since he’d passed away two years ago. The heart attack had been sudden, and it had been hard on Dylan and me both. Mom hadn’t exactly been a pillar of support, and I wasn’t eager to relive those hard months right after his death.
“So,” Mom said with an eager glint in her eye. “I got a call from a lawyer recently. It was about the estate.”
I raised my eyebrows. “The estate? Mom, I’m the executor of the estate. You know that. And you know most of it is in a trust fund for Dylan.” The wheels began to turn in my mind. “Who was this lawyer? Why did they reach out to you? Is this another ambulance chaser?”
Mom pursed her lips slightly and cut her gaze to the side. It was an expression I knew well. She was hiding something.
“Mom, how do you really know this lawyer?”
“Fine.” She huffed. “I’ve been seeing him, and it came up in conversation.”
“Dad’s will came up in conversation with your date?”
“Well, he thought it was strange that your father left everything to you when he and I were legally married.”
I crossed my arms and met her gaze. I raised my eyebrows slightly and let the silence draw out between us.
She lasted a grand fifteen seconds-that was about as much silence as she could ever stand. “I’m just curious,” she said loudly. Defensively. And was that booze I smelled on her breath? This early? “I know your father had a large estate, and I don’t see what one single woman could do with all of it. Plus, I know the trust fund was set up so you could gain access when Dylan had his first shift, so…”
My stomach roiled. “You want access to his trust fund?”
“I’m just curious,” she said sharply, “as to how much money I can expect to see from the fund.”
“Expect?” I echoed. “You’re expecting money? Regularly?”
“It’s only fair.”
The nausea and disappointment morphed into anger. “Why, exactly, would that be fair, Mom?”
“Because I’m your mother! Half of that estate is rightfully mine!”
