Page 27 of The Deals We Make

It would be too hard to explain to Vex why the other biker’s presence scared the shit out of me. I thought I’d done enough work on myself to move past what happened.

Clearly, I haven’t.

The living room feels livable. I’ve dusted and vacuumed every inch of this room, but now that it’s clean, it makes me uneasy that I’m sleeping down here in the clean while Mom sleeps upstairs in the mess, but she wouldn’t let me change her sheets. Another thing to work on tomorrow.

When Vex enters the room, he’s carrying a large bag made of canvas. Wood and kindling pokes out over the top.

“It’s cold in here,” he says. “You want me to take a look at the heating?”

I shake my head. “Think something’s wrong with the system. I’ve reset it, but it won’t turn back on. My assistant found someone to take a look at it tomorrow afternoon.”

“It’s been an unseasonably cold fall. You think your mom’s been living without heating for a while?”

“Who knows what Mom has or hasn’t done,” I say.

“What do you mean by that?” he asks.

“Nothing.” I sigh. “It’s been a long day. She said it hasn’t been working for a while. I’m tired and I need to make dinner. I’m more of an ‘eat-out’ girl than stay in and cook, but I have the basics down. Mom won’t starve until I can get her some proper support to help when I’m gone.”

“You’re gonna leave her like this?” Vex asks as he kneels down in front of the fireplace.

“No. I’m not gonna leave her like this. I’m going to shore up the house. I’m gonna take her to the doctor or get one to come see her. I’ll have an assessment done to see if she’s safe to live alone, then get some care support to come in every day. I’m not totally callous, Vex.”

Slowly and meticulously, he folds the paper in such a way it can act like a fire starter when lit. Then, he places some kindling over it and some smaller logs. “Never said you were callous, Calista. But don’t you feel bad you didn’t know your mom was in this state?”

In hindsight, the messages and infrequent calls I’ve had with her offered clues. The stories she repeated, the same few questions she asked incessantly.

“Don’t judge me, Vex. I’ve sent Mom over a million dollars. Turns out she won’t spend it because she thinks I stole it. Don’t know where the hell it is.”

Vex shakes his head in disbelief. “Our moms have that in common. Mine takes the money, though, then cusses at me for how I made it.”

Thoughts of Mrs. Williams flicker through my mind. The nights we spent watching Deep Space Nine marathons. The way she’d always keep the spot next to her on the sofa for me.

I stand with my back to the window, my arms wrapped tightly around my body. Now that I’ve stopped moving, I can feel the cold. Vex lights the fire, then blows on it gently.

The kindling and paper snap and crackle as they come to life.

Vex unloads the logs and meticulously stacks them on the freshly swept and cleaned hearth. “I got some more in the truck,” he says. “Pour us both a glass of the whiskey I bought while I go get it.”

“I don’t recall asking you to stay for a drink.”

“Like mother, like daughter,” he says, his dark eyes looking at me intensely.

I think back to his story of how he did all that work to paint the house with Niro and she didn’t offer them a drink of water. “I’m sorry. That was unnecessary of me. But I’m scared…”

He steps closer to me. “Of what?”

“Of encouraging this.” I gesture between the two of us.

He tilts his head and studies me. “Scared of encouraging this, or scared of letting go of the hate and the anger?”

I meet his gaze earnestly. “Maybe it’s both.”

He runs a knuckle down my cheek so gently and quickly, I almost miss it.

The contact was too brief to be deciphered.

“Pour the damn whiskey.” He turns, and I hear him tugging his boots on.