Bad Mother Read Online Mia Sheridan

Categories Genre: Crime, Suspense, Thriller Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 114419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
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And really, who wanted “leaders” capable of such blatant disregard for wickedness?

Sienna had decided she couldn’t look herself in the mirror after following such an order. If she did, she’d be complicit, and she could not live with that.

“What did you do?” Gavin asked.

“I arrested him.”

She didn’t want to admit how much the look of pride that filled his expression meant to her, but it did. Oh, it did. Because truth be told, she hadn’t received that look from anyone else. Not one person. Even her coworkers, some of whom had expressed support in private, had all but disappeared when push came to shove, unwilling to publicly align themselves with her. She’d told herself she understood. But in reality? It had stung. Badly. Even Brandon had looked shocked and doubtful when she’d told him what she planned to do, asking if she was sure it was worth jeopardizing her career. But Gavin was looking at her with such clear, unblinking respect in his eyes, and a sudden lump halted her breath. She hadn’t realized how much she’d needed that. The fact that it came from him had conflicting emotions wreaking havoc in her system. “Of course you did,” he said quietly, as though since she’d begun telling her story, he hadn’t had any doubt it would end that way.

She cleared her throat, turning her gaze. “Anyway, it went over about as well as you can imagine it did with my bosses,” she said. “They might have been satisfied with a reprimand or time off without pay, and I might have taken either, because otherwise it would have been spun that there wasn’t enough evidence and that I went rogue, libeled a man, disregarded procedure, et cetera. But the mayor called in, and he was irate. The story of his campaign worker’s arrest blew up, and it was all over the news. I was just waiting to be fired.”

“And then?”

“And then one of my bosses called me in and told me he could offer me a transfer to Nevada. That Ingrid, the lead detective here in Reno, was willing to take me on despite the controversy.”

“Ingrid. That’s quite a name.”

“She’s quite a woman, believe me.”

Gavin smiled. “So you snapped it up despite the fact that you had vowed never to return to this dustbin of hell.”

Sienna couldn’t help the laugh. “Basically.”

He smiled at her. “You did the right thing, Si.” Si. The nickname was pronounced like sea, and that was how hearing it from his lips made her stomach feel—like a turbulent ocean rolled and churned inside. His tone was gentle, and their gazes lingered. She broke eye contact, looking away. She had the strange urge to reach for something and hold on, but there was nothing there. She was sitting on a box filled with the few things she’d packed up and put in the back of her car before she’d headed away from her life and back toward the Biggest Little City in the World.

“So what’s he like?” Gavin asked. “This ‘main squeeze.’”

“Ha.” Sienna tilted her head, picturing Brandon. Why in the world was she having trouble conjuring his face? She felt herself frowning and relaxed her brow. “He’s a lawyer.”

“That’s his defining quality?”

Sienna rolled her eyes. “No, that’s not his defining quality. What do you want to hear? His name’s not Main Squeeze; it’s Brandon Guthrie. He’s kind. He’s handsome. He’s well liked. He’s a go-getter. He’s supportive.” Mostly. So he hadn’t exactly wanted her to move here and take the opportunity presented to save her career. Could she blame him? He loved her, and he wanted to start their life together, not put it on hold for an unexpected long-distance relationship.

“What about you?” she asked, attempting to strike a flippant tone and suspecting she’d missed the target. “You never married?”

He paused for a beat, his gaze moving over her features, cataloging something. “No.”

“Ever get close?” she asked.

“Yeah, once,” he said. “A long time ago.”

A prickle took up in her rib cage, and then she realized he was referring to her, and that prickle sprouted thorns. “Not funny,” she said.

He gave the barest of wry smiles, but his tone was gentle when he answered, “I know.” He paused for a beat. “But no, I’ve never gotten close.”

“Why not?” It was difficult for her to believe that a man like him—gorgeous, rich, successful—didn’t have a bevy of women surrounding him. And maybe he did. Maybe he just wasn’t interested in marrying any of them. Maybe he’d discovered long ago—on the very day she’d waited in a chapel filled with plastic flowers—that the single life was the life for him and stuck with it.

Maybe that meant she shouldn’t have taken it personally. It wasn’t her. It was every woman on earth. And why did the thought of that day still make her feel bitter and sad, even now?


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