Page 198 of Sinful Like Us

Her blue eyes are glassy with tears that won’t fall.

My words—mine, are pushing Jane to this place, and chewing broken glass would feel better. I continue fast. “I’m not saying any of this to hurt you. I just need you to understand what’s happening and why I can’t protect you here.”

She buries her face in Lady Macbeth’s fur for a moment.

Her silence is a toxin dripping in my veins. I can’t stand it. “Please say something.”

Brushing tears away with the heels of her palms, she glances up. “I have an overactive imagination, you see, and I just keep picturing some gross old man in our room with his cum on our bed…” She perches her elbows on the table, palms covering her face, agonized. “They saw, didn’t they?”

My brows knit, and I shake my head. “Who?”

“The way you were staring at Carpenter.” She lets out a guttural noise that wrenches me to my feet. Lady Macbeth springs off her lap.

“Jane.” I crouch down beside her chair.

“Walrus and Carpenter were in the room with him.” She won’t uncover her face. “I thought he could be worse than a burglar. I thought he could do something as sickening and heinous as what he did—butknowingfor certain feels…” She chokes on a sob. “It feels like…my skin is crawling and it will never stop.” Her hands fall, and I kneel and pull her into my chest.

She wraps her arms around my shoulders. I hold the back of her head, and she cries into the crook of my neck.

“It will stop,” I whisper, deeply. “There are places where they can’t reach.”

A minute passes before she lifts her chin, her tearful gaze meeting my hard eyes. “I feel as though…I’m letting them win by moving away. Like they’ve taken my home from me.”

I brush the wet lines off her freckled cheeks. “Back in Scotland, you missed your sister, your parents, your brothers, cousins and your cats.” I take another beat. “A home isn’t a house, Jane. It’s the people you love, and by moving, you’re protecting them and you’re protecting yourself.”

She wipes her face, easing more. “I know we have to move.”

My chest rises.

“But it’s such a drastic change, and I don’t just want to snap my fingers and be done here.”

“I understand,” I say deeply. “This doesn’t have to be a fire drill. You can take your time looking for a new place.”

“We,” she corrects.

I nod, “You and Maximoff.”

She frowns and clutches my shoulder stronger. “You and me.”

We.

My lips lift into a heartfelt smile, one I didn’t think would come at the end of this conversation.

41

JANE COBALT

“No boy’s allowed!”my mom screams from the treehouse window. “Go away, Loren!”

Uncle Loren glares up at her from the foot of the tree. “Fine, Cruella, I was just asking if you needed more blankets. Freeze your titanium pussy off for all I care!”

“Go fuck a cactus!” My mom gets the last word in before returning to the mound of blankets. With stiff grace, she sinks onto her butt pillow like a beautiful ice queen. Black silk nightgown, royally expensive diamond necklace and earrings to match—she appears fit to sleep on a throne.

Instead, she’s lounging in a homemade treehouse. Her silky, lush brown hair flies as wind blows through the wooden structure.

I stare fondly. I revere every little bit of my mom, and lately, I haven’t needed to remind myself that I’m just as worthy and beautiful.

I just feel that I am, and I’ve been more content with myself these days.