He bent down and kissed her tenderly, catching her off guard. “That’s my girl.”
His girl. The words sent a jagged slice through her chest, ripping through the stitches of the old wound. She turned her head before he could see the stupid tears that jumped to her eyes.
then
Brynn slipped off her shoes before she pushed through the front door so she wouldn’t wake her sister or her mother with the click clacking of her heels. But when she stepped inside, she was surprised to see the light of the television flickering on the walls of the living room, and her mother lying on the couch awake.
Brynn glanced at the time on the VCR—2:21 a.m. Usually her mother went to bed early on her nights off. “Hey, what are you still doing up?”
Her mom sat up, pulling the afghan she had draped over her legs around her. With her blond hair pulled back in a ponytail and no makeup on, she looked younger than her thirty-eight years—pretty, even with the world-weary lines around her mouth and eyes. She nodded in Brynn’s direction. “I could ask you the same thing.”
“I had a date.”
Her mother eyed her outfit, her gaze shrewd enough that Brynn knew she hadn’t been drinking tonight. “Where’d you get that dress?”
She and Reid had gone to a restaurant outside of town, and he had surprised her with a new dress for the occasion. Brynn set her shoes by the door, wishing she had come through the back instead of the front. “It was a gift.”
Her mother’s shoulders rose and fell with a heavy sigh. “Baby, you’re treading in dangerous territory.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I saw that boy you’ve been going out with. Saw his clothes, that brand-new truck he’s driving. And I can tell you that dress cost at least a few hundred dollars.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and dropped onto the love seat. “So.”
“So, I’ve been down that path. Handsome guy. Lots of money. Makes you feel like a princess. It’s hard to resist. But relationships with boys like that are bad news.”
Anger began to percolate in her belly. “You don’t know anything about him.”
“I know his type. And his type only dates girls like you for one reason. They use you and then when they get bored, they leave and go marry a girl who’s a member of their country club.”
“Mom, with all due respect, you’re the one who lets guys use you for sex. Not me.”
Instead of the angry retort she expected, sadness crossed her mother’s tired face. “You’re right. I’ve made more mistakes than I can count. I never meant for my life, your lives, to be this way. But sometimes once you start rolling down a hill, you find there’s no way back up it.”
Brynn looked down at her hands, unable to bear the tears gathering in her mother’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s okay,” she said, her voice soft. “I’ve earned it. But I’ve also learned a lot along the way, and I love you too much to watch you follow the same path. You’re too smart and good-hearted to let some guy take advantage of you. Go to school. Get a job that allows you to support yourself without any help from anyone. Then, worry about falling in love.”
“I’m not in love,” she said, maybe a bit too quickly.
Her mother nodded, though the knowing look in her eye said she didn’t buy it. “Just be careful, baby.”
“I will. I promise,” she said, even though her mother had it all wrong. Reid wasn’t one of those guys. He’d proven over and over how much her cared about her and wanted to be with her. She climbed off the love seat and headed toward her bedroom, but paused before she left the room. “Mom?”
“Hmm?” she asked, her gaze lifting from the TV.
“I love you, too, you know.”
She smiled. “I know, baby.”
Reid’s shoulders tensed as soon as he parked his truck in the driveway and saw the kitchen lights were still shining brightly through the windows of the main house. He checked the clock on the dash. Almost three a.m. Not a good sign that someone was still up. The back door swung open before he’d even cut the engine. Aw, hell. An even worse sign. His aunt was waiting up for him.
With a heavy sigh, he climbed out of the truck and shut the door. “Everything alright, Aunt Ros?”
“We need to talk to you. Inside. Now.”
Shit. We.
He scrubbed a hand over his face and slinked inside the house, feeling like he was fourteen again. He squinted in the bright lights of the pristine kitchen. His uncle was perched on a stool next to the marble island, sipping a glass of amber-colored alcohol and his aunt was standing next to him, arms crossed over her chest and lips pressed in a hard line.
“Nice night, Reid?” she asked, her tone cutting.
He leaned against the counter, his gaze hopping back and forth between the two of them. “It was… fine. What’s going on?”
She grabbed a sheet of paper off the island and flipped it over. She jabbed a finger at it. “How could you do this to us?”
He took the few steps forward to grab the page. Fuck. The photo from the lake again—only this time with no message.
“Aunt Ros, I—”
“No!” she said, smacking her hand hard against the countertop. “I don’t want to hear it. I told you to stay away from her, that you’d only get yourself in trouble. Get us in trouble.” She shook her head, her body visibly quivering with her anger. “Do you know what people will say if they find out that our son—that he does this to women? We’re running on a family values platform, Reid!”
He bit his lip, letting her get her tirade out, his cheeks burning with shame.
His uncle put a hand on Ros’s shoulder. “Reid, it’s not just the campaign. We’re worried about you. These are very dangerous waters considering your history. Did Ms. LeBreck consent to this, uh, activity?”
Reid jaw fell open. “Hold up. You think I raped her?”
Patrick’s gaze dropped to his glass. “We just want to know what we’re dealing with here.”
“Of course not! Oh, my God, you guys really think I’m that screwed up, don’t you?”
Neither his aunt or uncle met his eyes.
“Unbelievable.” He raked his hands through his hair. “She’s my girlfriend, all right?”
His aunt cringed, as if him dating someone outside their social circle was just as egregious as committing a rape would’ve been.
“Well, this has to end immediately,” she said, her words clipped. “Whoever left this picture is probably building a blackmail case and doesn’t need any more ammunition. For heaven’s sake, the girl herself may have told someone to follow you two and grab a picture so she could make a little money off your relationship herself.”
“Don’t you dare throw accusations at her,” he said, his voice rising. “She’s not interested in my money.”
She scoffed. “Don’t be so naive. Everyone’s interested in money.”
His fists balled. “Just