Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 142764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
“Trust me?”
“Are you joking? Your track record has been less than stellar, Mr. Marshall.”
He smirks. “Good thing you don’t have an option, then.”
Grabbing my hand, he interlaces our fingers, then tugs me behind him as he leads me through the foyer. Everyone is immersed in conversation or drinks, and the few gawkers from earlier have moved on to someone else.
A nervous ball of energy forms in the pit of my stomach, and Drew’s gaze swings around the room almost as if he’s checking for witnesses. We stop at what appears to be a broom closet door that’s hidden under the stairs.
“Where are we going?” I whisper the question as he opens the door, tugging me inside behind him, his hand heavy in mine. The smell of dust tickles my nose, but it’s a welcoming scent.
“It’s a surprise,” he replies gruffly.
I’m momentarily blinded by the darkness as we cut through a long hallway. Seconds later, he releases my hand and grips the brass handles of a set of double doors. Bright light from the other side blinds me for a moment, and I blink a thousand times to get my eyes to adjust.
On the other side, I’m greeted with quietness. Minus the soft snoring emitted from a nurse who I spot resting in the corner and the soft beeping of hospital monitors.
The blood in my veins becomes ice, and my muscles clamp up.
Memories assault. My mother. Dying. Her cold hands. The tears that stained my cheeks. I force a ragged breath into my lungs and swallow the pain down.
It’s okay. It’s over now.
I often remind myself that grief is the price you pay for love.
With a gentle hand to the small of my back, his fingers splayed across my bare skin, Drew ushers me forward. "I know it’s not the standard way of meeting parents but it’s all I could offer you and it’s important to me, so here we are. I want you to meet my mother."
The softness that enters his voice when he says mother makes me lock my gaze with his. "Your mother?"
He nods, and leads me to a medical bed across the room. A woman is laid out on the bed, her body placed perfectly in the center. She’s unmoving except for the slight rise and fall of her chest. I look at her face, and find her eyes closed, and it appears that she’s asleep. I can't help but wonder if she might be closer to death.
"Is she okay?"
Gently, Drew smoothes the hair away from her face, the dark brown threaded with gray. I'm momentarily shocked at the gentleness and kindness that he shows his mother. It’s like flipping a light switch on and off.
"She's alive, so I guess for now, yes, but she went into a coma some time ago, and we are just waiting for her to wake up. I don’t know all the details. My piece of shit father refuses to let me see her or have any knowledge of her care.”
I melt, witnessing this moment and the look of love that shines in his eyes as he stares down at her.
"Your mom is beautiful. What's her name?"
"Victoria."
I nod and reach for her, patting her hand softly. "It's so nice to meet you, Victoria. I'm Maybel. But you can call me Bel.”
His hand eases around my waist, and he tugs me to his side. "I wish we could stay longer, but once my father notices I’ve disappeared, he’ll send his goons to find me, and all hell will break loose if he discovers I’m visiting her when I’m not supposed to.”
“You really are breaking the rules tonight.” I grin.
“I am. I had to check on her, and I've been wanting you to meet her. It just so happened that tonight was the perfect occasion for all of that."
Calmness washes over me, and I lean into the feeling. For so long, I wondered if there was anything good in Drew, if he cared about anyone else but himself, and while I’ve wavered in understanding his psychotic tendencies, it’s clear to me now, after seeing him with his mother, that he’s willing to do anything to protect those he loves. I don’t know that I can continue to hold all his bad against him when his intentions are pure.
Drew talks to his mother for another few minutes, telling her about what he’s been doing and gushing about me. He smiles at her but even a smile can’t misplace the anguish and fear he feels for her. He’s a puppet on a string, and his mother’s life is hanging in the balance. I wish I could take the pain he’s feeling away, that I could hurt his father the way he’s hurt him but I can’t.
“We’ve got to go, Flower,” Drew whispers into my ear, pulling me back to the present.