“I’m not sure how to say this, but your mother’s not dead. I’m not sure why you thought she was, but she came with Zander.”
I shook my head. “No. That’s not possible.” I felt a crazy urge to climb out of the car again. “Don’t do this to me. Don’t—I just can’t. I can’t relive the grief over again. He killed her. Martin killed her.”
The tumbling words stopped.
“Jodi spoke to her,” he said. “She seemed certain about who it was.”
My mind went looping and looping and not settling anywhere until there was nowhere to go but the burgeoning possibility that my mother was indeed alive. Jodi wouldn’t lie about this.
I allowed myself to explore the possibility that it was true, and that Martin had simply lied to me like he’d done so many other times. Why had he done it? To punish me? To show me his power over my life and my mother’s? His reasons were incomprehensible.
Were it not so serious, I might have laughed that his deception was the one thing that gave me the courage to leave. I’d never have gone had I known she lived—would never have left her alone with that monster.
Guilt washed over me because I had abandoned my mother. What had Martin told her? Had he laughed and cruelly informed her that I’d run away thinking she was dead, or worse, that I’d deserted her?
And then I’d run again. “How is she? Does she know about me?”
“She had to be sedated,” he said. “But otherwise, she’s fine physically at least. She believed you were dead; finding out you were alive and had fled to the lawless outside didn’t go down so well. Carter is taking good care of her. But, baby, it would’ve crushed her if I hadn’t gotten to you.”
My mind flittered without purpose from one troubling thought to the next in a kaleidoscope of emotions before settling on the wondrous news—My mother is alive, and I’m going to see her again.
“I need you to trust in me, Ava,” he said. “To trust that I can protect you. Can you do that?”
Could I?
“I—how did he die?” A macabre thought, but one that needed to be addressed before I could fully move on. A sick inner voice demanded I ask to see the body—no, I wasn’t going there.
I watched his profile, saw the moment his lips tugged up before he glanced across at me. “I walked into the room where he was having a meeting with Taylor and their respective advisors and shot him in the head. That work for you, baby? I promise, no one’s going to reanimate him with a three inch hole in his skull and half his brains splattered over the wall.”
“Jesus!”
His smile dropped. “Tell me you fucking trust me. Tell me you’ll fucking talk to me before you do something like this again, or I swear to God, you’re never leaving that apartment again, and I’m locking every bit of tech away.”
The determination I’d had back on that desolate rooftop as Sanctuary fell came back full force. “I trust you. I won’t do it again.”
His hand left the steering wheel and closed over mine. A simple touch that spoke of many things. But mostly that from here on, I could and should trust him.
Ownership.
How I’d hated that word and all it represented. Belonging to someone went against every law we’d fought so hard for in the world before the collapse. But here, in the after, it was neither cloying nor repelling.
It felt just right.
The tall skyscraper Blaine took me to made the one we lived in look drab. My mother was in here, I was told. Blaine, rightly determining that I wasn’t going to be happy until I’d seen her, brought me to her.
“There’s a lot of empty floors,” Blaine said by way of explanation as we ascended toward the penthouse floor in the elevator. He had his arm looped around my waist, chin resting on the top of my head. I felt the same level of need to touch. I’d damaged things by not trusting him, and it would take time for that to heal.
“I don’t understand why she’s with Taylor,” I said. “Is she a prisoner?”
“Me neither,” Blaine said. “But he doesn’t see personally to the care of prisoners, so I’d say don’t worry, except Taylor’s a power-hungry psycho.” He glanced up at the corner of the elevator where a camera sat. “So who knows.”
I rationalized he was teasing me. I hoped he was teasing me.
Nerves exploded as the door opened onto a plush lobby. A tall, built man, who was obviously security, showed us through to a lounge. I barely took in the stunning decadence of the palatial setting or Carter, who sat on the periphery with an elderly woman. My focus was all on the woman I’d thought I’d lost forever.
A sob caught in my throat as I saw the hope and joy I felt mirrored on her face. Fragile, haunting in her beauty—god, I had missed her. I froze under the weight of the emotional avalanche before rushing to her. We both tried to speak, a disjointed babble that didn’t make a bit of sense.
The words didn’t matter. The connection did.
We cried, we laughed, and we clung to each other.
Time passed. Distantly, I was aware of Carter leaving and of Blaine talking to Taylor.
“I thought you were dead,” I said when I could finally get the words out. I couldn’t bring myself to use my uncle’s name, nor even to think of him as a relative. “He told me you were dead.”
Her hand cupped my cheek. “I don’t know why he would do that, Alexis. I’ve spent too many years with him, and I don’t understand half the things he did and said. He liked to make threats. He was a bully and a monster.” Her eyes searched mine. “When he told me you’d gone, I’d never felt such relief. I hoped you were in a better place. I’m so relieved Jodi was with you.”
“I’m so sorry I left you.” Fresh tears streamed down my cheeks.
“Don’t be. Never be sorry for that.” She smiled through the tears. “How could you know that he hadn’t killed me as he’d said? And after what he did to Gregory?” Her lips trembled at the mention of my father’s name, and she drew a ragged breath. “That’s the first time I’ve felt safe to speak his name for many years.”
I pressed my forehead to her’s clinging once again. “We’ll use his name from now on,” I said. “As often as we want.”
“It’s going to take time,” she said. “I’ve got a lot of grieving to do. But already, I feel like I can breathe.”
We talked more until exhaustion won out, and still hugging each other on the couch, I fell into a light doze.
“You need to get some rest, Alexis,” my mother said. Easing back, she inspected me with the critical eye all mothers have.
I nodded. “You must come back home with us. We can talk more tomorrow.”
“She stays here.” The voice that spoke carried authority. I looked up to find Taylor watching us—watching my mother. “I have a doctor here,” he indicated the elderly woman with steel grey hair who had been talking to Carter when I arrived. “And your mother has been through several significant shocks.” Yeah, that was down to me. Dark eyes held mine—the man certainly had a formidable presence.
I went to protest, but both my mother and Blaine waded in.