“It’s only the why of it you’ve got wrong, baby.”
I spotted the picture of us kissing through his truck window on the edge of the table, and picked it out of the pile. Held it to my chest.
The absolute anguish in them...so conflicted, so wounded. Like CC’s eyes months before. When I’d seen her eyes while she was huddled in her kennel, I knew I could help her to trust her human. But people were a different story. They were much too complicated.
Dogs were easier. Loyal. They never let me down the way people did. As long as I remembered the golden rule of rescue.
Don’t let yourself get too attached, because they’d be moving on soon.
I should have never gotten attached.
“Brody, if you truly believe I could use you as a means to an end...” Pausing, I tried to clear the lump from my throat. “...then you don’t know me at all.”
Steadying myself, I put my palm over his heart. Pressed my mouth to his. The salt from our tears mingled on our lips, and I allowed myself a few seconds before pulling away.
“Lily...” He pressed his forehead to mine.
I reached down to pat CC, who had been worried enough about her people to join the fray. After placing a kiss on her head, I whispered, “Take care of him for me, puddin’. I love you, and I love him, too.”
Wiping my face, I stood and left, the picture in my hand.
* * *
The following morning, I turned in my notice at the training center. Funny that the hardest part hadn’t been leaving the dogs I taught, but the people on the other end of the leash.
With some vacation time stored, I took a week off that Rob was happy to give me. Honestly, I needed it.
I wasn’t doing great.
I slept. And I slept. Then moved out to the couch to stare at the idiot box and slept some more. I also took to living off generic cereal and Blue Bell ice cream.
My wake-up call came by way of the last person I wanted to see. My mother. When she knocked and I didn’t answer, she used her key.
“Liliana, when was the last time you showered?”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, Mom. Go fuck yourself.”
Quicker than I could blink, she reached out and slapped my cheek. It wasn’t hard; it wouldn’t leave a print. It was meant to shock me, and it did its job. “Now listen here, girl. I know I’m not going to win any prizes for mother of the year, but I brought you into this world and you will treat me with respect. You think you’re the only one who’s ever had a rough go of it, Lily?”
Stunned, I reached up to hold my cheek. In all my years, my mother had never laid a hand on me.
“My own mama was a stripper and a drug addict who cared more about her next fix and her next boyfriend than her children. I will never tell you the horrors I endured in the house where I grew up. When I started up with your daddy, I wasn’t in college like he told people. I was on the pole at night and in a cheerleader’s outfit during the day because I had no other way to feed myself.”
It was like being slapped again. My mom never talked about her life. My dad told me what little I knew, and apparently, I got the fairy princess version.
Audrey sat on the arm of the chair. “I know you think the worst of me for marrying Richard so soon after your father died, but I loved your father, Liliana. Very deeply. Not because he provided for us, but because he was larger than life, he had an amazing heart and spirit and for whatever reason, he wanted to be with me. In the beginning, I constantly thought to myself, ‘Dear God, please don’t let him change his mind. Being in his orbit was like standing in sunshine that never set on the world.’”
Her smile slipped away. “But the longer he played, the worse the depression got... His death broke me in a way I never expect you to understand. Every day it hurts, every day I miss him. And every day, I pray you’ll find the courage to let go of all the harm the three adults in your life did to you, so you find a love like that. I’d hoped that might be Trey, but clearly he wasn’t it, and I’m glad you saw what I didn’t and took care of yourself.”
A sad smile touched her lips as she ran a hand over my cheek. “I’m sorry for what I did to you. For leaving you. I never wanted you to have the kind of life I did when I was your age. Can you understand that?”
I nodded, slipped my hand into hers. “I’m sorry.”
“So am I, my love, more than you will ever know. Now, I find it perfectly acceptable to wallow for three days. I gave you a fourth, because I’ve met that young man a time or two, and Brody Shaw is... Mercy.” She fanned herself. “But it’s time to remember whose daughter you are, Liliana Costello. You’ve never hidden, never felt sorry for yourself, never wallowed in your entire life. You stand up, shake off the grass, and go back to the huddle. If there’s anybody in the whole of this city that can walk into Bulldogs headquarters and tell Dick to shove it right up his ass, day in, day out, it’s you. I’m quite sure that backbone you inherited from your father is why Richard never warmed to you.”
A little grin flitted across her mouth. “Do you know, when your daddy was at the top of his game, and Richard was a glorified water boy, that he came on to me? This was before I got pregnant with you.”
“No! Really?”
She nodded. “When your father found out he’d groped me and several of the girls on the squad, Billy pinned him to a plateglass window. By his neck.”
“Oh shit.”
“That’s what he did, alright.” She guffawed, laughed in a way I hadn’t heard since before my father died. “That’s the backbone you inherited, Liliana.” She squeezed my hand.
“Mom, did you really just tell me to rub some dirt on it?”
“Indeed, I did.”
After she left, I got in the shower. I took my dogs for a walk, and something occurred to me between making notes about the rescue and pulling my old anatomy books out of the attic to brush up.
For a long time, I’d pitied Audrey because I thought she was weak.
But there was more strength and depth to my mother than I had ever known.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Fuckstick, party of one?
Brody
I let the water beat on my aching neck trying to wash away the remnants of another shitty game. In fact, that’s all I’d had in Miami—one shitty game after another.
Running my hand through my hair, I bumped the bridge of my nose and hissed. During the fourth quarter, somebody in a pile-up had taken a cheap shot and split the skin on the bridge of my nose.
Cranking around, I tried to see the bruise on my ribcage. I understood how guys like Billy got hooked on pills. Tomorrow, I’d have to swallow enough ibuprofen to give an elephant an ulcer just to get out of bed. More bruises would come out, too. I’d feel the strains and pulls I hadn’t earlier today.