“I haven’t told her.”
“We know, angel.” Galen rushes to reassure me so I know they aren’t accusing me.
“Maybe your dad told her,” I suggest.
Saint shakes his head. “He doesn’t know the location. He must know we have our own place, but he’s never asked, and I’ve never offered.”
“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t know,” I say, watching Theo text Mom the code for the gate.
“I guess we’re about to find out.” Caz stands, heading toward the kitchen.
I climb awkwardly to my feet, walking out with Saint to greet her.
“You okay with this?” he asks as we wait outside for Mom’s car to appear.
“It’s not like I have much choice.”
“You still don’t trust her.”
“Do you?” I peer into his blue eyes, seeing my answer there. “Exactly. I don’t like this. This is your safe place. Your sanctuary. I hate she knows where it is.”
“It makes me wonder what else she knows.” Saint folds his arms across his impressive chest.
“Yeah, me too.” My brows pucker. What the hell is Mom playing at?
“You’re still worried about her,” Saint adds, and it’s a statement, not a question.
I give him a terse nod. Mom has disappointed me so much these past couple of months, and I’ve lost faith in her, but that doesn’t mean I want anything bad to happen to her. I don’t know what her motives are, but Sinner’s are pretty clear—he wants to punish both of us for what he perceives to be a betrayal. No matter what has happened between us, she’s still my mother, and I can’t let him hurt her, because it’s the right thing to do and because my father trusted me to keep Mom safe.
“I’ve been getting daily reports from the guy I have at the house.” Saint shoves his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. I forgot he’d hired a guy he knows and trusts from within The Sainthood ranks to do “odd jobs” around the house, under the guise of keeping an eye on Mom. “Sinner hasn’t been around a lot, but when he has shown up, he’s pissed, and that’s never a good thing.”
“I know. I’m scared he’s going to kill her.” The asshole is deranged and depraved enough to do it even though he claims to love her.
“We won’t let that happen, and Giana is stronger than you give her credit for,” he says as Mom’s car rounds the bend, heading our way.
“Maybe.” I’m being noncommittal on purpose. Lately, Sinner’s been beating her up and doing nothing to disguise it, which worries me, along with the fact Mom appears to be letting it happen. That doesn’t instill confidence.
I step forward as Mom parks in front of the barn and kills the engine. She hops out, making a beeline for me. “You shouldn’t be outside, Harlow,” she chastises me, gently pulling me into her arms. “You should be resting.”
“Why are you here, Mom?” I ignore her so-called concern.
“I want to make sure you and Galen are all right.”
“You couldn’t just call?”
Hurt skates across her face, and I feel like a bitch. Until I remember all the lies she’s telling me, and my tinge of remorse evaporates.
“I know you think I don’t care, Harlow, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.”
Yeah. Whatever. She barely even visited me in the hospital from what the guys have said.
“Let’s talk inside.” Saint scans the grounds with suspicious eyes before he opens the door, gesturing her inside.
“I came alone,” she volunteers, sliding past him into the barn.
Saint plants his hand on my lower back as we follow her inside, closing the door behind us.
“Wow. I love what you’ve done with the place.” Mom looks around, smiling widely until her eyes land on the framed posters of nude chicks on the walls. She hastily looks away, and Saint and I share an amused grin.
It reminds me of something I had planned, and I make a mental note to follow up on it.
“Coffee, Giana?” Theo asks, handing her a mug as Caz comes up on my other side, grasping my hand.
“Thank you, Theo.” She smiles before spotting Galen leaning against the edge of the table, and it fades from her face as concern replaces it. “Galen. You should be in bed too.” She clucks her tongue at him.
“Don’t worry,” Caz says. “Harlow and Galen got plenty of rest in bed, among other things,” he adds, under his breath, and I elbow him in the ribs.
“No sex for you for a month,” I hiss in his ear. He pins me with a horrified look, and a burst of laughter pushes up my throat. “I’m joking,” I whisper. “Kind of.”
“Don’t torture me like that,” he whispers back as I watch Mom quizzing Galen out of the corner of my eye.
“Why don’t we sit in the living room and talk?” Mom suggests, circling her arm around Galen and herding him forward.
“She did come here for a reason,” I murmur. Caz keeps a firm hold of my hand, leading me over to the couch.
I sit beside Caz and Saint while Mom sits on the other couch with Galen and Theo takes the chair. “Why are you really here?” I inquire, watching her knotting her hands in her lap and chewing on her lip with growing trepidation. “And how did you know about this place?”
“Don’t be mad,” she says, “but I followed you here one time.” I grind down on my teeth in frustration, and a muscle ticks in my jaw.
I’m calling bullshit on that.
There is no way she tailed us here without us knowing. The guys are way too smart for that, and I’ve never come here alone. She didn’t put a tracker on us either, because we’ve been checking daily.
Why the fuck does she keep on lying? I could call her out, but she’ll just deny it, so what’s the point in even going there. I don’t believe a word that comes out of her mouth anymore.
“I knew the guys must have another place as they didn’t always stay at the house,” she continues, pretending she doesn’t feel the wave of hostility emanating her way. “I wanted to ensure you were safe and resting up.”
“Did you tell him?” Saint asks.
She shakes her head. “I didn’t see the need to.”
Well, that’s reassuring. Not.
“I’d prefer it’s kept that way,” Saint says, placing a warning hand on my knee. He can tell I’m seconds from implosion.
“I’m betting Neo already knows,” Mom replies. “There isn’t much that gets past him.”
Which is pretty much the conclusion we’ve already drawn. But I’m sure she didn’t come here to talk about the barn. “What is it, Mom? Just tell us.”
“I know what he expects of you, Harlow.” Her pained eyes meet mine, and I can’t work out if she means his plans to gang-rape me with his buddies and call it initiation or that he wants me to assassinate the commissioner.
“Which is?” I prompt.
She twists her hands in her lap. “I know he wants to fuck you. He taunted me with it last night.” She raises a shaky hand, pulling it through her hair, and her long-sleeved blouse moves down her arm a little, revealing heavy bruising around her wrists.