Chapter 57
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
ROWAN
The sound of their laughter settles something in my chest.
Our house had been devoid of it for so long before she moved in, and now she’s here to stay.
Ever since those boxes were delivered, I’ve waited for her to touch them, but apart from digging through one of them on day three to find something she needed for work, she hasn’t touched them.
Until today.
Coming out and seeing that ugly cat sculpture in the middle of my solid marble coffee table was the best thing that I could have seen today, at least until I saw that photo beneath the TV.
The same one I’ve held onto, that I’ve looked at every day to remind me what we were doing this for.
The one I spoke to when I missed her so much I almost slipped and called her more often than I care to admit.
I pick up my wallet on the way past, ready to pay the pizza delivery driver I buzzed in a few minutes ago, but when I open the door, I’m not greeted with just a teenager doing his after-school job.
No. I’m staring straight at the woman I hoped I would never see again, and one of the last people I want near Hannah.
“Marianne,” I growl.
The teen beside her looks between us and shoves the pizzas at me, barely pausing long enough to take the cash before he disappears back down the steps.
“I see you repel people just the same way you always have.”
“I want to see my daughter,” she demands, and I take a moment to really look at her.
She’s just as slim as she’s always been, but her face has thinned since the last time I saw her.
Despite the mountain of makeup she’s caked on her face, the frown lines she tries to hide with Botox are still prominent.
She’s cut her hair into a short bob just below her ears, but she still insists on keeping it the lightest shade of blonde her hairdresser can manage.
Four years was not long enough between visits.
“Your daughter doesn’t want to see you.” I step back, intent on closing the door in her face, but she shoves forward before I can get myself and the large cardboard boxes through the door.
She looks around, disgust tugging at her features as she takes in my home before heading toward the lounge room where Hannah’s oblivious giggles continue.
I press my eyes closed, forcing a deep breath into my lungs.
There are many things I prepared for when we were planning to bring Hannah into our home, but this was not one of them.
She hasn’t spoken to her mother for almost as long as I have, and as far as I could tell from the PI reports that were sent to me over the years, Marianne was living her best life without a care in the world for her kid.
Which means we can thank Jeffrey for this visit. He still holds the purse strings, and she’ll do anything to maintain the life she’s become accustomed to.
She pauses in the doorway, watching the sight in front of her with a sneer.
“Well, I see the rumors are true. You and your delinquent son have made my daughter a whore.”
Every word out of her mouth grates on me the same way it did when we were married, but it’s the way she’s speaking that makes me reconsider my moral code around killing women. Maybe I could make an exception for this cunt.
That thought is only amplified by the dread that comes over Hannah’s face. The carefree woman she’s become disappears before my eyes, making way for the beaten-down girl she once was.
I fucking hate it.
I rub at my chest, an ache setting in as I meet Asher’s eye.
“Mom?” Hannah whispers.
His own smile has dropped away, but he doesn’t release Hannah. Instead, he pulls her up into a sitting position on his lap, lending her the strength she needs to face the woman who spent her life making her miserable.
“Pack your things. We’re leaving.” Marianne’s words send a bolt of panic through me, and before I’ve considered my next move, I’m standing between her and Hannah, blocking her view of her daughter.
“Who the fuck do you think you are storming in here?” I snap, dropping the pizza boxes on the side table. Any hunger I had was gone the second the she-devil appeared on my porch like a ghost of my past mistakes.
“I’m her mother,” she hisses. “I gave birth to her, and therefore I know what’s best for her. And let me tell you, it’s definitely not fucking you two criminals.”
Her words roll off me, but they won’t do that for Hannah. Not when she’s spent the last few years recovering from the vitriol this woman spits.
I glance over my shoulder, where I find Asher murmuring to Hannah quietly. Her body is locked up tight, but she’s holding onto him just as tightly as he is to her, allowing some of the tension in my body to fall away.
She’s not running.
She’s not jumping into action to do as she’s told the way Marianne expects her to.
“Hannah doesn’t want to go with you,” I growl. “She hasn’t seen you in years, and even when she saw you before that, all you did was belittle her and remind her of her shortcomings.”
“You can’t speak for her!”
“Watch me.” I step forward, crowding her until she takes a step back. She’s still too close to Hannah, far closer than any of us would like her to be, but another few feet gives my girl a bit more breathing room.
A small hand wraps around my elbow, pulling me back to stand beside her, and my chest tightens when her fingers tremble against my skin.
I fucking hate this. I hate that she has to feel a second of fear or discomfort.
“Mom,” Hannah says firmly, her voice strong despite how heightened she is. “I won’t be leaving with you today, or ever. I’m happy here, and that’s something you and Granddad are going to have to get over.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” She rolls her eyes exasperatedly. “I know what’s best for you. I’m your mother.”
“No, I’m an adult. You stopped having any right to anything I do when I turned eighteen and moved out of your house. I haven’t taken a cent from anyone with the Malone last name since that day, meaning I owe you nothing.”
I’ve always been in awe of her strength, but fuck. I’m ready to drop to my knees and worship her right now.
Marianne’s eyes flare with annoyance as they flick between the three of us. Asher has come to stand behind Hannah, his hands on her hips, providing support without ever saying a word.
“This is sick,” she spits, turning her venom toward me. “You’re twice her age. And to share her with your son? She was your stepdaughter, for god’s sake! It’s disgusting.”
I sigh, brushing my hand down my face. This fucking woman.
“I didn’t meet Hannah until she was over eighteen,” I remind her.
“We never lived in a house together, and she never saw me as a father figure, so you can go ahead and take that out of your arsenal. And the structure of our relationship really isn’t any of your business. ”
“Not my business?” she screeches, causing each of us to flinch at the sound.
Jesus, I must have repressed that sound from our marriage because otherwise it would be haunting my nightmares.
“How do you think it’s going to look when the press gets hold of this?
You think they’re going to be accepting of Hannah’s stepbrother and stepfather defiling her?
Or do you think they’re going to drag us all through the mud at every opportunity? ”
“Hard to believe they could write anything worse about you than they already have,” Asher mutters, causing a surprised laugh to escape Hannah.
Marianne cuts him with a glare that hides none of her distaste. “Get your hands off my daughter.”
“No,” he replies simply, tugging Hannah back against him to prove a point, and she goes willingly.
As scared as I am to lose Hannah, I’m confident she won’t walk out the door with Marianne, which allows me to relax slightly.
Taking her hand in mine, I give it a reassuring squeeze, hoping it will give her the strength to stand up to the woman who has brought her nothing but misery.