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Gigi was in too much trouble already for Sugar Beth to rat on her. “She’s my niece. I was curious.”
Wi
Sugar Beth ignored her to concentrate on Ryan. “Exactly what do you think I’m going to do to her?”
“We don’t care to find out,” he said pompously.
“You can’t protect her from life.”
“We can protect her from you.”
Sugar Beth couldn’t bear his self-righteousness and her temper flared. “You’re too late. I already told her everything I know. How to smoke a joint. Steal money from her dad’s wallet. Get laid in the back of a Camaro.” It was a low blow, and Sugar Beth was ashamed of herself. Or at least she would be soon. “Go to hell, both of you.”
Wi
“If we hadn’t left the reception early—” Ryan broke off. “I’d bet this was Gigi’s doing. She’s been curious about Sugar Beth for weeks.”
He was going to defend his old lover. Heartsick, Wi
Upstairs, they had the predictable scene with Gigi, who stood in the corner of her room, an ink-stained Laura Ashley pillow clutched to her chest, and proceeded to blame Wi
“I’m your mother, Gigi. I understand you. And you can talk to me whenever you want.”
“No, I can’t! You just want me to do everything your way.”
Wi
“At least Dad listens sometimes!”
Ryan stepped in. “This isn’t about your mother. This is about you. And you gave away something precious today. You gave away our trust.”
Gigi tucked the pillow under her chin.
“Why don’t you think about that?” he said, curling his fingers around Wi
He drew Wi
“Leave her,” Wi
They walked downstairs together and into the family room. Wi
Upstairs, rap began blaring from Gigi’s room. Wi
“This isn’t about you. It’s about her.”
“It doesn’t feel that way.”
He unbuttoned his collar and slumped into the burgundy leather chair she’d bought at an estate auction. “I should have known she’d find a way to meet Sugar Beth. She gave me enough clues.”
“What do you mean?”
“She asked a lot of questions. I forbid Gigi to contact her, but she’s so damned hardheaded. I might as well have waved a green flag in front of her.”
“You didn’t say anything about this to me.”
“You’re not exactly rational where Sugar Beth is concerned.”
“And you are?”
He came out of the chair. “Don’t start this again.”
“Why not? Shoving it under the rug isn’t working.”
“You’re so completely out of line.”
“I don’t care. I’m sick of it.”
His lips thi
“Then stop doing it.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. He reached for the remote. “You need to get hold of yourself.”
She knocked the remote from his hands and sent it skidding across the carpet. His eyes widened in shock. She turned on him. “You need to be honest! If you want Sugar Beth so badly, go get her!”
He looked stu
“I’m tired of pretending.”
“I’ve been faithful to you for fourteen years.”
“Let me find a medal.”
“I married you, goddammit! I knew you’d gotten pregnant on purpose, but I never once threw it in your face.”
“You wouldn’t. You’re too decent for that. I was the liar.”
“You said it, not me.”
“Because you’ve never had the guts to.”
“You are not turning this back on me. It’s your guilt that’s making you overreact to everything. This is your problem, Wi
Her fury turned to despair. She sank down on the edge of the couch. “I saw the way you looked at her last night.”
“You saw what your imagination created. You’re paranoid.”
An eerie sense of calm came over her. Her hands fell limply in her lap, and she pressed her fingers together. “I’m jealous. I’m so jealous I can’t see straight. But I’m not paranoid. After all these years, you still haven’t gotten over her.”
“That’s bullshit. For God’s sake, I married you.”
“You wouldn’t have if I hadn’t gotten pregnant.”
He hesitated for a moment too long. “Of course I would have.”
The pain cut deep.
“I would have,” he said, as if repeating the words would make them true.
She drew a deep, unsteady breath. “I don’t know who I am anymore. Maybe I never did. All I know is that I’ve worn myself out trying to be worthy of you.”
“That’s garbage.”
“I don’t think so.” She stood up, gazed around at the antiques she’d collected. She loved this room, this house. She loved being surrounded by objects that spoke of the past. “I’m going to move into the apartment over the shop for a while.” Her voice came from far away. She hadn’t pla
His voice hit a low, dangerous note she’d never heard. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“We need some time.”
“You need counseling, not time.”
“I know you’re angry.”
“Anger doesn’t begin to describe what I’m feeling right now. What do you expect me to tell Gigi? That her mother has up and left her?”
“I don’t know what you’re going to tell her.”
“Just dump the whole thing on me, is that right?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, that’s right. For once, I’m dumping everything on you.” She rose from the couch, walked to the door.
“Don’t you leave this house, Wi
She pretended she didn’t hear him.
“. . . she had ample time to observe her sister’s lover.”
G
EORGETTE
H
EYER
,
Devil’s Cub
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Colin answered the door. Ryan stood on the other side, which wouldn’t have been unusual except it was ten o’clock on Monday morning, and he looked like hell. “You look like hell.”
“Thanks.”
Colin hadn’t spoken with Ryan since Saturday night. The lapse had been deliberate, since he’d had a fairly good idea of what direction their next conversation would take. Ryan was Colin’s best friend. Their old relationship of teacher and student had happened so long ago that neither of them thought much about it anymore. They played in a basketball league together, occasionally jogged on weekends, and Ryan helped him coach the boys’ soccer team.
“Has the plant burned down?” Colin said. “I can think of no other reason you’d abandon your customary workaholic habits.”
“The plant’s fine. We need to talk.”
Colin wished he could avoid this particular tête-à-tête. Sugar Beth had appeared on schedule this morning, predictably ignoring the fact that he’d fired her, and then she’d made herself scarce while he’d holed up in his office, staring at his computer screen. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. Making love with her yesterday had been better than anything he could have imagined, which, considering what he’d been reading lately, was fairly astonishing. She’d been bawdy, spontaneous, thrilling, and unpredictable. Afterward, she’d shown no interest in engaging in a postcoital examination of their relationship, which should have relieved him. Instead, he’d experienced this unhealthy compulsion to make her spill her secrets. Although he knew who she’d been, he didn’t entirely understand who she’d become, and the mystery enticed him. Maybe this was why so many men had fallen under her spell. She issued a subtle, irresistible challenge that lured them to their deaths.