Page 66 of Steel

The two of them took off upstairs, leaving me alone with the woman of the house. I didn’t know what to expect. She was smiling, but she could very well be plotting on my ass. Turning, she motioned toward the kitchen.

“Come on.”

She walked ahead of me, and I had to will my feet to follow her. I wasn’t so sure that this was a good idea. I knew how mothers could be about their sons. She could take me in thiskitchen and beat my ass, stab me, or anything. When I stepped in, she was filling a glass vase with water for the flowers. I took a seat at the kitchen island, nervously rubbing my hands together.

For a while, I watched as she cut and arranged the flowers in the vase.

“Neha Malone,” she finally said. “I always wondered when we would get to meet you. You’re just as pretty as the pictures he showed us.”

“Thank you . . .”

“So,” she said, resting her hands on the counter, “tell me the real reason you left all those years ago and broke my baby’s heart.”

Finally, somebody wanted to know my side of things.

I sighed. “Mrs. Jenkins, . . . I loved your son with all my heart. I didn’t want to hurt him, but I was afraid.”

“Of what?”

“That-that he would hit me one day.”

She frowned. “Kerrion is a lot of things, but he would never put his hands on a woman. Ever.”

“You didn’t see what I saw that night. He was somebody else, and I never wanted to be on the receiving end of that. Not again.”

“Again? Somebody put their hands on you?”

I nodded as I hung my head. “My father. He was an abusive drunk. He used to beat my mother, my sister, and me. We dealt with that until I was twelve. That’s when he almost beat my mother to death. My sister and I found her clinging to life after she told us to hide. Watching Kerrion beat that man the way he did took me back to that night. All I could see was my mother lying there bloody with life slipping away at the hands of the man who promised to love, honor, and cherish her.”

Her face softened. “So you were triggered?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Did you ever tell my son about this, baby?”

I shook my head. “That’s a moment in my life that I never want to relive. We don’t talk about it. He’s the whole reason I don’t like violence. It goes too far. I’ve tried to talk to him and tell him my side of this, but he’s so angry that he won’t hear me out.”

She shook her head as she came around to sit beside me. “Baby, . . . we can’t heal from things we don’t talk about. I’m not saying broadcast your pain, but given the situation, that’s a conversation that needed to be had before things got to this point. My son isn’t a saint, but he’s not the devil, either. He was raised to protect the helpless and those he loves by any means. I think you two need to have a conversation so he can explain a few things to you about who he is and what he does. Maybe then you’ll understand.”

“Understand? Is there something I’m missing?”

“A lot.” She took my hands. “Make no mistake, though. My son loved you with his entire being. He cherished you. Your breakup changed him and his view on giving his heart away. He hasn’t loved another woman since.”

“What about his son’s mother?”

She smiled softly. “That was different. They wanted a child, not a relationship.”

“So they were never a couple?”

“No. Unfortunately, she passed away in childbirth.”

My hand flew to my mouth. “What?”

“Uterine atony. She ended up bleeding out.”

“That’s horrible! So he’s raising his son alone?”

“He’s a single father, but never alone. The family helps take care of KJ. He’s his father’s pride and joy.”