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“Ava and her husband left her to me. Asked me to raise her.”
There’s something off about the way his stare falters. But then he snorts and shakes his head. “You’re off to a great start.”
Heat flushes through my body. “What are you talking about?”
He nods to River but turns when the door opens, a messy brown hair, bright green-eyed boy emerging. The same one who answered the door when we arrived. The boy smiles at me, then stands next to Tiller with his arms crossed. “Hey, lady.” He squints up at me, shielding the sun out of his eyes. “Why is that kid petting a dead lizard?”
Twisting around, I spot River about ten feet away on the steps of the porch running her fingers lightly over the lizard. I didn’t know it was dead, but now that I think about it, it hadn’t moved, had it? Shit. Pulling out my hand sanitizer, I rush over to River and wipe down her hands.
“Yucky?” she asks, looking at the wipe and then me.
“Yes, yucky.” Thinking she’s going to get Ebola or something equally as life threatening—or maybe her hands might fall off—I squirt the hand sanitizer I carry in my pocket in the palm of her hand.
“Go away.” Tiller pushes the boy inside, then shakes his head at me, stepping toward us. When he’s standing in front of me, he smiles, but it doesn’t touch his eyes. It’s forced and cold and never directed at River. “Jesus, cool it with the alcohol. You’re gonna get her drunk off that shit.”
I stand, scowling at him and whisper, “Why are you so mean? I can’t believe you’re acting like this.”
“You can’t believe it? Really?” He shakes his head, then takes a drag of his cigarette. “I don’t know what you expected. She’s better off not knowing who I am. Even Ava knew that.”
“She asked me to come see you.”
He breathes out, heavy and annoyed. “That was a stupid idea.”
Heat rushes through my body. He’s right, but then again, it doesn’t make it okay. Reaching for River’s hand, I walk away, because ultimately, that’s what he’d been waiting for since I knocked on his door. It’s when I have River in the car, away from the intensity of his hatred, I think aboutwhyI came here and what I thought would happen. I don’t know the answer. I don’t regret it. My life with him, or lack thereof, it intersects far more than either of us can comprehend. He’s impossible for me to regret.
I still love him. I’ll never tell him.
Do you notice the way I can’t leave the driveway after she leaves?
What about the way my body feels like it’s a thousand degrees?
Do you feel the heat from where you are?
Do you think I’m happy about how that went?
If you said no, you’re right. If you said yes, what the fuck? Did you not just witness that bullshit?
I rub my hands down my face, but it doesn’t clear my head. Tightening my jaw, I glare at the car descending down the driveway. Goddamn it. What kind of shit is this? It’s fucking bullshit is what it is.
I think about Amberly long after she’s gone, purple and sea-green hot in my veins and compulsive in my chest.
Scarlet’s in my face the moment I close the door behind me and enter the house. “Who was that?”
I don’t answer. Why should I? Does it matter who it was?
Standing there, acting clueless, I stare at her.
Upset I’m ignoring her, she shoves my shoulder. “Tiller! I’m asking you a question. Who the hell was that woman and the little girl?”
I personally don’t see why she cares. Scarlet thinks everything that goes on in this house is her business. If you ask me, she’s taking this personal assistant shit too far.
Her gaze clings to my face, waiting on my answer. The sounds of splashing water from the waterfall in the foyer ping the air around us, filling the silence. I glare back, because I’m a fuck and don’t care. “Amberly,” I quip, brushing my thumb along my lower lip. She’s officially lost my attention, if she ever had it in the first place. “The girl don’t matter.”
Scarlet’s eyes flash with entertainment. She knows who Amberly is because of Shade and his big fucking mouth. When she doesn’t leave me alone, that’s when I really begin to lose my patience. “Did you get a look at her?” she asks, eyes widening. “She looks exactly like a Sawyer. Please tell me that’s not Shade’s kid.” As soon as she gets the words out, a blush creeps up her neck, settling in her cheeks. “It’s not, right?”
Walking into the kitchen, I want to laugh, or maybe play along because I’m also a fuck like that and the idea of getting Scarlet worried, excites me. But I don’t lie. Usually.
I offer a slow shake of my head, keeping my glare on hers. “It’s not.”