Parker could ask my mother a million questions, but I had a better shot of knowing if she was telling the truth. And maybe, just maybe, she’d be honest with me. If she’d been the one to throw that brick, if she were truly that angry, I didn’t think she’d be able to hide that kind of rage—not if we came face-to-face.
I was tired of hiding. Of feeling scared. And no one, especially my mother, was going to hurt my siblings. They’d been through enough. This new game, it had to stop. Now.
In a blink, we were docking at Shelter Island. My hands tightened on my steering wheel as I waited for my turn to disembark. By the time I was driving down the ferry ramp, my palms were damp, and my stomach seemed to have twisted itself into an intricate knot.
I didn’t need a map to find my way to the trailer park. My parents used to take us there as kids when friends of theirs had barbeques. I tried to see those memories through a new lens. Had they been using already? Dealing? I still couldn’t picture it. All I could remember was being told to leave the grown-ups alone and not get into trouble.
I drove through town. Past the quaint business district, through the picturesque neighborhoods where houses boasted freshly potted flowers and pristine lawns. Soon, the landscape became slightly more rural and finally, I caught sight of a shabby sign marking the turnoff.
I pulled into the park. The trailers were close together, the yards, if you could call them that, small. Some looked nice as if the owners took pride in their surroundings. I respected the hell out of the owners of those trailers. I knew what it was to make the best out of what you had. How hard it was to stretch that dollar. Putting in back-breaking work on your home after working a long day.
But most of the trailers looked as if they had given up. Or at least the people inside them had. I stopped in front of the manager’s office. As I climbed out of my SUV, a skull-splitting mixture of music assaulted me. Today, it sounded like a country fan was going head-to-head with a hard-rock groupie, trying to see who could get their stereo louder.
I pulled open the screen door. Holes dotted the mesh, and the paint was peeling in places. A woman sat behind a counter. No, she reclined. Her desk chair leaned so far back, it looked as if she were seconds away from toppling backwards.
I opened my mouth to speak, but she held up a finger for me to wait, her attention zeroed in on a small television sitting on the corner of the counter. The focus of the show was soft, and two people were locked in a passionate embrace. Just as the man deepened the kiss, another entered the room. “How could you?” Then the screen snapped to a commercial.
“Hot damn. I knew it was coming, but I still can’t wait to find out what happens.” The woman who looked to be in her forties turned her attention to me. “Sorry about that, darlin’. I’m hooked on that show somethin’ fierce.”
I couldn’t help but return the woman’s smile. Maybe I needed to pick up a daytime tv habit. “I’m looking for Chrissy O’Connor’s trailer. Can you tell me which one it is?”
The woman’s expression turned wary. “You police? The police have been bothering that poor woman like crazy. I don’t get no trouble from her. The rest of these hooligans? Nothing but headaches. But Chrissy, she gives me no trouble.”
“I’m her daughter.” I hated even saying the words. She’d lost the right to be my mother a long time ago. But I’d say whatever it took to get this over with.
The manager’s eyes widened. “I didn’t even know she had kids.”
“She doesn’t.”
“But you just said—” She waved a hand. “Oh, forget it, I got enough drama with my shows. She’s in number twelve. Far back corner.”
“Thank you.” I left the woman to her show and hopped back into my SUV. As I wove through the park, my stomach knotted tighter and tighter. I tried my best to lock every emotion down, to hide any expression from my face. Because as long as it had been, I didn’t want to give my mother the satisfaction of knowing how much she’d hurt me.
I slowed as the numbers approached twelve. I came to a stop outside a trailer that was somewhere in between the two extremes. There were no potted flowers or cute lawn furniture. But there was no trash in the yard or peeling paint either.
I shut off my engine and took a deep breath. Climbing out of my vehicle, I beeped my locks and gripped my keys so tightly the metal bit into my palm. I climbed the three steps to the home and knocked.
I didn’t hear anything at first. But then again with the warring music lovers on the other side of the park, I wouldn’t have. Just as I was about to knock again, the door opened.
I sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of the woman in front of me. The only word swirling around in my mind was haggard. She looked so incredibly beaten down. I fought back the sympathy that was taking flight in my belly. I reminded myself of that terrified phone call I’d received so many years ago. I reminded myself of the brick. The cuts on Mia’s face. Everything in me hardened.
“Mom.”
She blinked rapidly at me. “Caelyn. What are you doing here?”
No, “Oh my gosh, it’s so good to see you, baby girl.” No begging for forgiveness. Just wondering why the hell I was here and bothering her.
“I need to talk to you.”
She glanced around the trailer park as if looking for someone. Was it her dealer? Someone she didn’t want me to know she was associating with? “All right.” She stepped back into the small space. “Do you want something to drink?”
My gaze jumped around the living space and kitchenette. Everything was surprisingly clean and tidy. “No, I’m fine.”
My mom eased into a recliner that looked like it had seen better days. “What happened to your head?”
I ignored her question. “Were you on Anchor last week?”
She stiffened, the slight rocking of her recliner stilling. She licked her lips. “I needed to see you guys. I wasn’t going to talk to you. I just had to see with my own eyes how you were.”
“You needed to see us?” I parroted. I couldn’t seem to say anything else.
“Mia’s so big.” Tears filled my mother’s eyes. “And Ava. She’s almost a young lady now.”
“She’s still a child,” I bit back. “And seeing you would confuse her. And cause her a tremendous amount of pain.”
Color leached from Mom’s face. “I know. That’s why I didn’t try and talk to you. I just needed to see.”
“You haven’t earned the right to see anything.”
“I know I haven’t. But I always was selfish.”
The admission startled me into silence for a moment. I simply stared at the woman in front of me, trying to read beneath the surface, to ferret out the truth. “Did you leave a note on my car?”
Her eyes widened. “No. I swear. The cops came asking about it, and I told them the same thing.”
“Did you throw a brick through my window last night?”
Mom straightened in her chair. “No, I did not. What the hell is going on? Someone threw a brick through your car window?”
If she was lying, she was one hell of an actress. I shook my head. “Through the window of our house.”
My mom lurched to her feet and grabbed my hand. “You need to be careful. The people your dad was mixed up with… They’re bad news. Worse than a lot of folks know. And a bunch of them are already out. Got out before I did.”
I jerked my hand out of her grasp. I didn’t want anything to do with her touch. Her worry, whether it was an act or real. “What are you talking about?”
She began looking around furtively as if someone might jump out at any moment. My back teeth ground together. “Are you high?”
“What? No.” Her face hardened. “I got sober in prison. Six years.”
I tried to see the truth in her. Or confirmation of a lie. But I couldn’t tell. I didn’t know this woman anymore. She might as well have been a stranger on the street. “Do you know where Dad is?”
Her eyes shifted, staring at something over my shoulder. “No.”
That was a lie. Every muscle in me hardened, including my heart. “If you care about your family at all, you’ll tell Parker where he is. Let the FBI bring him in. Maybe if he’s put in jail, we can finally put this nightmare to rest. Will and Ava won’t worry that he’ll just show up out of the blue one day.”
“He’s my husband,” she whispered.
“He’s a drug dealer who brought violent people into your children’s home.”
Ragged pain seemed to pour from her eyes, but she didn’t falter for a moment. Didn’t even consider altering her stance. “You can’t change who you love.”
“Then you’re more of an idiot than I thought.” I spun on my heel, heading for the door.
“Wait, Caelyn. Please. You need to be careful. You don’t understand.”
I tried to tune her out as I jogged down the steps and to my SUV. But nothing would silence the knowledge that my mother would always choose her husband over anyone else. Even if he was risking the lives of her own children.
28
Griffin
I hung up my phone for the fourth time. Still no answer. I was now full-on pacing in front of my truck. I’d come by The General Store to check on Caelyn, just to make sure she was hanging in there and not worrying about the kids or someone doing anything while she was at work. But Caelyn wasn’t there. A woman I’d only seen a handful of times was working at the kitchen station. She told me that Caelyn had taken the day off. Where the hell was she? She’d dropped the kids off at 8:15 a.m. and now it was almost lunchtime.
I strode towards the water, scanning the shoreline. There were undoubtedly people out and about, tourist season picking up. But I didn’t see Caelyn anywhere.
I tapped Parker’s contact in my phone. After two rings, he answered. “Raines.”
“Hey, it’s Griffin. Have you heard from Caelyn today?”
“She texted me this morning to check and see if we’d made any progress. Why?”
I muttered a curse. “And let me guess, you didn’t have anything for her.”
“Not yet. What’s going on? Is Caelyn okay?”
My gut twisted at the question. She’d better be okay. “She just isn’t answering her phone, but I’m pretty sure I know where she is.”
Someone had endangered Caelyn’s family. The children she would do absolutely anything to protect. So she would go to the person who just might be the source. I started back to my truck. “I’ve gotta go, but I’ll let you know if I don’t find her.”
“How about you let me know either way?”
“Will do.” I hit end on my screen as I hopped into my truck. I made my way to the ferry just as they were loading. I beat out a rhythm on my wheel as if that would make the boat go faster. When that failed, I tried Caelyn again. Still nothing.
A million different scenarios played in my mind. Each one was worse than the one before. We had no idea who Caelyn’s mom was mixed up with these days. She could’ve gotten out of prison and gone right back to the crew she’d left behind. Yet I would’ve bet my last dollar that was exactly where Caelyn had gone.
Cars began slowly unloading when we reached Shelter Island, and I pulled up the trailer park’s location on my phone. She’d mentioned that her mom was staying there but I didn’t have a lot or a trailer number. Hopefully, I could just drive around until I saw Caelyn’s SUV.
But as I pulled down the ramp, I caught sight of the vehicle Caelyn lovingly called Big Bertha. For the first time in the past hour, I took a full breath. She was safe. But as I caught sight of her expression as I passed, I knew she was the furthest thing from all right. I did a quick U-turn and got in line with the vehicles heading back to Anchor.
Each second that passed, I gripped the wheel harder. As soon as I was parked in my spot on the ferry, I shut off my engine and jumped out of my truck. I was tall enough to have a decent vantage point to survey the cars. After a minute, I saw the SUV in a front corner. I strode quickly through the maze but Caelyn’s vehicle was empty.
My jaw worked as I tried to guess where she’d gone. Somewhere outside but not too crowded. I stepped around gatherings of tourists and moved to the rear of the ferry. Caelyn’s hair blew behind her in long, glossy waves. My pace picked up without me even thinking about it, and as I clasped her shoulder, she whirled around, fists clenched. “Griffin.” She let out a whoosh of air with the word. “What are you doing here?”
“You weren’t answering your phone.” As if that should explain it all.
Her brow furrowed. “But how did you know where I was?”
“When I realized you weren’t at the store, it didn’t take a genius to figure out where you must have gone. Why the hell weren’t you answering your cell?” Frustration that sounded a little too much like anger slipped into my tone.
Caelyn’s expression hardened. “I didn’t hear it, okay?”
“You shouldn’t have been going to see your mom by yourself. Do you have any idea how dangerous that could’ve been? You have no idea who she’s running with these days.” Those same images, the what-ifs, filled my mind, and my temper spiked higher. “You could’ve been hurt. Killed. Then what would Will, Ava, and Mia do?”
Caelyn’s eyes went glacial. “I know better than you ever will the responsibility that’s on my shoulders. I’d do anything for them.”
I blew out a harsh breath, trying to rein in my anger. “I’m sorry. I know. I was just—I was worried.”
The fight seemed to go out of Caelyn in a flash, and tears filled her eyes. “No, I’m sorry. I needed to see her. Needed to know if it was our mom that was doing all of this.”
I pulled Caelyn into my arms, holding her close, as if that would reassure that she was safe, whole, no longer in danger. “Did you see her?” She nodded against my chest. “Was it her?”
“Yes, and I honestly don’t know. I don’t think so.” Caelyn began crying even harder. “But she doesn’t care. It’s all about my dad. That’s the only person she’s ever really loved. But it’s not even love. It’s this sick addiction. She knows where he is.”
I tensed. “Is he here? On one of the islands?” There were dozens in our small chain. A couple of larger ones like Shelter, some mid-sized ones like Anchor, and even more smaller ones. Lots were even privately owned. If Sean O’Connor wanted to disappear here—and he had help—it wouldn’t be hard.
“I have no idea. She wouldn’t tell me anything. Even knowing that someone’s threatening her children, she still wouldn’t tell me anything.”
And there was the reason for the tears. I couldn’t fathom the pain that carved into a person. To have a parent betray you like that. I pressed my lips to the top of Caelyn’s head. “She doesn’t deserve you. Never did.”
Caelyn’s hands fisted in my t-shirt. “She said she’s sober. Has been for six years. I thought if that ever happened, she’d care. That if you took away the booze and the pills, maybe she’d be like she should’ve been all along. But she doesn’t care, Griffin. She never did. What is it about me that’s so unlovable?”
My arms spasmed at her words, flinching and tightening around her. “There isn’t a damn thing about you that’s unlovable, Caelyn. She’s the one who’s broken. And you can’t take on someone else’s brokenness. That’s theirs to carry.”
“I feel like no matter what I do, no matter how often I tell myself it’s not worth it or how much evidence I stack in front of myself, I still want her love. And I hate myself for it.”
I rubbed a hand up and down Caelyn’s back, my fingers dancing over the ridges in her spine. “It’ll probably always be there, the pain of losing what you always wanted but never had. But the hurt of it, the longing, it’ll lessen. The fuller your life, the less you’ll notice she’s not in it.”
Caelyn tipped her head back so that her chin was resting on my sternum. “How’d you get so wise?”
I smiled. “You get a lot of thinking time when you work on a house alone.” Her lips were a breath away from mine. I wanted to kiss her so badly
it was a physical ache. I wanted to lose myself in her mouth and steal all her pain.
“We’ve been keeping you from that alone time.”
“Worth it.” The only problem was, I never wanted them to leave.
29
Caelyn
I tipped my face up to the sun, letting its warmth seep into me.
“Whatcha doin’, Cae Cae?” Mia asked, coming to a stop next to me.
“I’m soaking up all the warm and happies.” Because after yesterday, I needed all of that I could get. I still felt like I had a bit of a crying hangover, and Griffin had been treating me like spun glass. But mostly, I was better. I’d just needed to let it out. All that toxic stuff I held inside and so rarely let anyone see. But after airing it, releasing it, I felt so much lighter.
She giggled. “I thought we were supposed to be helping Griffin.”
I opened my eyes and looked down at Mia. “You’re right.” I held out a hand, and she took it. “Let’s get rid of some ugly bushes.”
Her face scrunched up. “They are pretty ugly.”
Some sort of invasive shrubbery had made a home at the back of Griffin’s property, in between the garden and the pond. And our Saturday project was to get as much of it as we could out of there. A dumpster had been delivered and sat beside the workshop, ready to be filled.
This morning before most of us had woken up, Griffin had gone to the hardware store and picked up gloves for me, Ava, and Mia. Mine had daisies, Ava’s were green, and much to Mia’s delight, hers were pink. It was just the thing we all needed. A sense of purpose, some good, old-fashioned hard work, and being together.
“The slowpokes are finally here,” Will called as we approached.
“We were soaking up the happies,” Mia defended.
Griffin’s lips quirked. “And how do you do that?”
Mia flung her arms wide, tipping her face up to the sun. “Like this.”
Wrecked Palace Page 18
