So...I text Jay and give Lena an amused smile.
No time passes before Jay comes into the kitchen, his phone in his hand. “You got a beat on who is in the car?”
“Tinted windows.” I put my plate in the dishwasher.
“Finn’s on his way.” His expression is all-knowing. “He’s pissed you didn’t text him.”
I suppress my smile.
“One of these times this whole rile-him-up-and-have-him-work-out-his-anger-in-other-ways won’t go the way you expect,” he warns.
“Finn would never hurt me.”
“Not you I’m worried about.” He peers at the monitor.
My back is turned to the monitors, contemplating Jay’s words, when he lets out a low whistle. “Carys, Mrs. Van de Berg has finally stepped foot in Switzerland.”
“What?” I gasp. In the years we’ve owned this place, my mother has never ventured here. She’s aware of Lena, and my father’s mistresses around the world, so she picks her vacations strategically. She’s admitted none of her suspicions out loud. As a key member of the business, I have the locations of his long-term affairs memorized, and my mother has never gone to any of those houses.
Lena unties her apron, bundles it up, and shoves it into a drawer. “I’m going to my room.”
I nod but can’t tear myself from the screen. The woman is my mother, but her appearance is disorienting. Why would she come here?
A hand skims my spine and lips nibble at my earlobe. A shudder of desire rocks through me, and I press myself against him. He draws me tight to his body so I’m aware of every wonderful inch.
“You should have texted me,” he growls into my ear.
“It’s my mother,” I whisper as the woman scans the house and fixes her blouse. I inherited her hourglass figure, light brown eyes, and blondish colored hair. When I was younger, people used to call us twins. Back then, the comparison felt like a compliment.
“Your mother?” Finn’s tone goes from angry to surprised. “Opal is here?” He peers around me to take in the screen. “Well, I’ll be damned. This can’t be fucking good.”
Jay’s walkie-talkie blares out. “I’ve got a Mrs. Opal Van de Berg at the door requesting to meet with her daughter. Can you confirm?” The security guard’s voice is professional, but he must wonder why my mother didn’t make the list of safe contacts to enter the house.
Jay yanks his walkie-talkie out of his belt. “Roger that. Show her in.” His gaze rotates between me and Finn. “I guess we’ll see why Mommy dearest decided to come for a visit.”
Has something happened to my father? I don’t dare speak the words out loud. The thought of him dead or injured should be horrifying, but it’s not.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Finn
The tension between Carys and Opal is unmistakable. They’re circling each other, current events, upcoming commitments, neither of them saying what they’re thinking. Nothing has happened to Charles—it was the first question Carys asked—which is unfortunate. With him gone, I could eliminate Eric or have someone do it. She would forgive me. Having her father wrapped up in whatever bullshit scheme they’ve cooked up makes it too complicated to get rid of one without the other. Especially since I can’t yet uncover what they’re planning. I’m on the cusp of telling her to fire Eric just to see if that sets something in motion.
With our sleuthing, there are no hints of secret deals. No more sinister connections Carys doesn’t already know. No paper trails. Unregistered or foreign bank accounts are noted somewhere. We haven’t even come across more evidence of PLA involvement with Eric or her dad. So what the fuck are they planning? Opal’s here perched on Carys’s couch like a bird poised to take flight. Maybe I should ask her. Too fucking skittish for my liking.
“So...” Her mother sips the cup of tea Jay made. “I’m not sure if your father mentioned we’re having problems.”
Carys narrows her eyes and brings her cup to her lips before glancing at Jay. “It may have come up.”
Opal sighs, and her hand shakes as she sets her teacup on the coffee table in front of us. I’ve got my arm slung around Carys’s seat. Her mother has barely acknowledged me since she arrived. She skims over me like I’m not here. That’s fine. I’m not going anywhere. She hasn’t asked about Lena, but I suspect she’ll stay hidden, and we’ll pretend she doesn’t exist.
“Well—I—I wasn’t going to tell you.” Opal twists a lock of her blonde hair around her finger before tossing it behind her. “I’ve tried to ignore her. That strategy has worked for the last forty-seven years, so I thought the complication would blow over.”
Carys lets out an exasperated sigh. “Who are you talking about? In the forty-seven years you and Dad have been married, has anything ever blown over?”
Her mother gives an unsteady laugh. “Quite a lot. If I ignore whatever is happening long enough and hard enough, everything is fine. It’s always just fine.”
Sounds unhinged to me. Or heavily medicated.
“What or I guess who did Dad do all those years ago? According to him, this problem is your fault.” Carys slides her hand along my leg.
Whenever I was the go-between for Lorcan and my father, I never minded. I liked the power of knowing the minds on each side. So much easier to fuck with people when you’re in their head. But Carys hates the tug-of-war. Has always hated that role with her parents. Once her younger brother died, her position only got worse.
Opal’s teacup wobbles as she lifts it up off the table. With a huff, she pushes the cup onto the surface and fishes around in her purse. Her fingers latch onto something like a lifeline, relief descending. She pops the top on the pill bottle and takes two.
Medicated it is. Interesting. Whatever she’s working up the guts to tell her daughter must be a doozy.
Opal presses the heel of her hand to her forehead, and there’s a hint of panic on Carys’s face. The medication must be a surprise. I squeeze her shoulder. Our eyes lock, and then I kiss the top of her head.
“What’s going on, Opal? We can’t help you if we don’t know what’s happening,” I say.
“Help me?” She laughs. “Finn Donaghey is going to help me?” Another unsteady laugh tumbles out. “Though, I am strangely happy you’re here.” She meets my gaze. “I always wondered if you’d circle back. My daughter was so smitten with you. Didn’t matter what you said or did.”
“I’m sure you didn’t come here to talk about him,” Jay reasons from the armchair, cutting her off before she says something stupid to piss me off.
“No, no.” She stares at Carys, and tears pool in her eyes. She sniffs and hesitates for another moment. “You have to understand this was forty-seven years ago. I didn’t have the same options women have now. I—I was trapped, and your father saved me.” She rests her face in her hands, and when she glances up, her mascara has smeared. “Or I thought he was saving me.”
“Mom, what are you talking about?”
Opal sniffs and takes the tissue Jay passes her. “I was married before. I was married when I met your father. I married too young. He was an abusive man. He used to hit me all the time. I was hospitalized several times. But he was powerful, influential, unstoppable. No one messed with him.”
“Oh,” Carys breathes out the word and straightens on the couch. “I can’t believe this has never come up.”
“Your father saw me at a cocktail party with my husband. The attraction was instant. He wanted me. I wanted a way out. Charles had enough money and influence to help me escape. At first, he was so charming.” Her face is full of naked pleading. “You know what he can be like. When the light in his eyes is on you, it doesn’t feel like it could stray.” She bunches up the tissue in her hand. “Then, later, I thought,” her voice cracks, and she focuses on her lap before she continues, “‘well, at least he doesn’t hit me.’” One shoulder raises in resignation.
“That’s awful,” Carys says while I make slow circles with my thumb on her arm.
Opal takes a
shaky breath. “That’s not the worst part.”
Carys frowns. My family is pretty fucked up, so while this is interesting, it’s not earthshattering. Not the commentary either of them wants to hear right now. Sometimes I can keep my inner asshole under control.
“I had a three-year-old daughter.” Opal’s voice hitches on the last word, and she almost doesn’t get it out. “And I left her behind.”
“Oh, Mom.” Carys scurries away from me to hug her mother. “Your husband wouldn’t let you take her or see her? You must have been devastated.”
I sigh as she comforts Opal. She has such a good heart. If she considered the situation, she’d come to the conclusion I’m making. Her mother wouldn’t be angry at Charles if her ex-husband kept the child from her. Would she feel guilty? Maybe. This guilty? Nope.
“I always wondered if that was why Lucas, your brother, died.” She chokes on the words. “I abandoned one child—so God takes another to show me what I should have felt the first time.” She frames Carys’s face. “Nothing can happen to you. I can’t lose you, too.”
“But if he wouldn’t let you take her...”
Opal’s expression is tortured. “I wish I could lie to you,” she whispers. “But there’s too much at stake.”
There’s a loaded silence, and I want Carys to put this together. Opal doesn’t want to admit the truth. She won’t get there without a nudge in the right direction. “It wasn’t her ex-husband who stopped her from taking her daughter,” I say. “It was Charles.”
Carys turns to me and shakes her head. “Dad wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t. Why would he do that?”
Her mother’s defeated gaze meets mine over daughter. Even now, she wants to believe the best of her father. Or at least, can’t come to terms with the worst.
My old man was a son of a bitch who killed his first wife to take a second. But he didn’t abandon me. Lorcan’s mother tried her hardest to parent me, but my father kept reminding her I was his son, not hers. Whenever she tried to step in, coddle me, she was forced out. But she never stopped trying. Not even on her deathbed when she told me to leave the past buried.
Her death ruined me as much as my mother’s. Looking back, I loved her, and she loved me. The problem was I didn’t know what to do with those feelings once I had the truth. She asked my father to put her, his mistress, first, and he did. So I raged against her love, seeking revenge and a warped justice. Fat fucking lot of good that reaction has done me.
“He did,” Opal whispers. “I agreed. He wanted a fresh start. A clean slate.” She takes a deep, wavering breath. “I wanted to be safe for the first time in years.”
I’ve never been sure I wanted kids—maybe once, for a moment, the notion crossed my mind with Carys. She was so focused on those things, it was hard not to consider the future. But I understand the deep gash a mother leaves behind once she’s gone. A gaping, jagged hole that never heals. My life, so full of danger, never felt secure for a kid, even if I found someone who wanted to have them. While I might be sad Carys didn’t get what she wanted, I’m not sad we’ll be childless.
“Why are you telling her this now?” I lean forward.
She needs to be back on my lap so I can ease her hurt. This level of deception is like waking up from a vivid dream. Reality is altered, and it’s hard to figure out what to believe, who to trust. The truth is fragile. I should know—that’s how I felt when I found out my mother’s death hadn’t been an accident.
“My daughter—” Opal sniffs and takes another tissue from Jay’s outstretched hand. “Pearl. She thought I was dead, until recently.”
“So.” Jay turns his attention from his phone, a pensive expression on his face. I hope he’s already tracking this information. “She’s not happy about being abandoned?”
Opal’s eyes brim with tears. “It wasn’t just his wife my ex-husband enjoyed beating.”
Carys covers her mouth. “That’s awful. I—I can’t—I don’t know what to say,” she murmurs.
“She’s furious I left her behind. Rightfully angry. I never thought he’d hurt her. I was selfish and stupid to agree to leave. But I was drowning in misery. I didn’t think I could save us both.” Opal stands and paces on unsteady legs across the front of the couches. “This last time she came to see me, she said the only way she could think to make things right was to remind me of what it’s like to be afraid. She spent most of her life afraid.”
Tears stream down Carys’s face, and Opal is holding it together by a shoestring. They’re focused on the emotion of Carys’s sister, and I’m figuring out the angle.
“She needs to know your deepest fear,” I say. “Then she has to have the time and money to go after it.”
Opal stops pacing and examines me. “Which is why I’m glad you’re here.” She clenches her hands. “My ex-husband died two, almost three, years ago. Pearl found documents, and she realized I might still be alive. My ex was wealthy. Very wealthy. Pearl has never worked a day in her life.”
“Sound cushy,” I say. “Where do I sign up for that?”
“Finn.” Carys reminds me of my personal vow not to be a dick during this conversation.
“So she’s out for blood?” I ask. Jay better be over there on his phone searching for information, a paper trail, a way to cut off the head before it becomes a hydra.
“I don’t know,” Opal says. “It might not be a real threat. But I couldn’t let it go. I had to come tell Carys.” She hesitates. “And you.”
“We’ll get to the bottom of it,” Jay assures her.
Adding this on top of the stress with Eric and Charles isn’t helpful, but I’d rather see what’s coming than be surprised. “As long as there is breath in my body, I’ll do everything to keep her safe.”
Opal’s brown eyes soften. “Somehow, I don’t doubt that.”
“Are you staying tonight?” Carys asks when she acknowledges her mother again.
With a shake of her head, Opal crosses to the couch and gathers up her purse. “I don’t want to stay in case Pearl has people tailing me. I’m flying back tonight.”
Carys rises, and I mirror her.
Silence sits between us for a moment as Opal searches her daughter’s face. “I know how hard you tried to have a baby of your own, and abandoning a child must seem crass and unfeeling to you.” She presses her purse to her shoulder. “It wasn’t a choice.”
“But it was,” Carys whispers. “I could never abandon a child.”
My hand is on the small of her back, and she sinks into the contact, turning to hug me around the middle.
“I’ll show you out, Mrs. Van de Berg,” Jay says from beside us.
She wipes away a few more tears that trickle down her face and follows him toward the door.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Carys
When I slip into bed, Finn tugs me close but for the first time since we’ve been together, he doesn’t run his hands along me in ways to make me think of sex. Instead, he wedges me in so tight my face is practically squished against his bare chest, and he smooths my hair before kissing the top of my head. Every bandage is gone, and sometimes I lie in bed tracing his scars, asking for their stories as my heart races at the danger and aches at the close calls. A world without him isn’t a world at all.
“You okay?” he says. “You’ve been too fucking quiet since your mom left.”
“I don’t know,” I whisper. Turning toward him, I’m comforted by the steady beat of his heart in my ear. “Anytime I hear someone gave up the chance to be a mom, it makes my heart hurt. I just—I would have done anything to have a baby, to be a mom.”
He’s silent as his hand strokes my back. “Sounds as though your sister had it rough after your mother left.”
“Yeah. I can’t process it. Being beaten by your father?” His arms tighten around me. “My mom has her faults, and so does my dad but they’ve been there for me. Even if I didn’t always like what they did or what they said. They’d never set out to hurt me. And my
mom is...well, she’s my mom. I love her despite everything.”
“Having a mom is important.” His voice is gruff in my ear.
My heart skips a beat at the raw emotion in such a simple sentence. Through the sliver of light peeking through the curtains, I glimpse his face. “God, I’m so stupid. I’m sorry.”
He chuckles and tugs me into a kiss. “It’s all right. It was a long time ago.” He runs his hand up my spine and fits me snug against him again. “Jay and I will find out more on Pearl tomorrow.” His lips trail along my neck. “Is it wrong that when your mom said your sister’s name, I was glad she lost her love of precious jewels when she named you? Not that I wouldn’t have loved you if you were called Ruby or Amethyst.”
I chuckle. “But? I sense a but.”
“Not sure any of them would have the same ring to them.”
“And that’s important?” I kiss his chest, the heaviness from the day fading away.
“When you’ve yelled it out as you come as much as I have over the years, it’s gotta feel right.”
“Over the years?” I laugh. “Just how many Carys’s do you know?”
“Nah.” He smirks. “That’s not it. Carys is the name of my right hand.” He holds it up and wiggles it.
I giggle, and his lips find mine in the dark. “Sounds confusing,” I murmur.
“Not as much as you’d think.” He rolls me onto my back and braces one leg between mine as he peers down at me. For a moment, he searches my face, any trace of laughter gone. “Because I always knew it was you I was thinking about.”
My heart dips to my toes. I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to being this close, this connected to him. Before, I didn’t believe these emotions existed with Finn—with anyone. I told myself it was impossible. Maybe I imagined them. Wanted something that wasn’t there.
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