Chapter 40
Chapter Forty
WHITNEY
Brinley is still shaking in my arms. Or maybe I’m the one still shaking.
Her tiny fingers are tangled in the collar of my half-ripped and half-bloodied shirt.
Her face is buried as far as possible into my chest. I can’t blame her.
I’m not sure I’ve even taken a full breath since we got out.
I feel like I’m stuck in a nightmare I haven’t woken up from.
The sirens are gone, but the house is still smoldering. Whatever is left of it, anyways. Wyatt… God, Wyatt must be devastated. What does he have left of Ben? How bad is it?
Brinley and I sit in the back of an ambulance, a heat blanket wrapped around us both. Ana just finished checking on us and is over talking with her sons. I feel people buzzing around us. EMTs, firefighters, and cops. Thankfully there’s no nosey ass neighbors on this road.
“Hey, relax. Just try to breathe,” a feminine voice gently tells me. One of the paramedics, I think her name might be Katie. I don’t know. I can’t remember. I wish I did. “She’s okay. You both are.”
Are we? I tug my daughter closer to my chest—if that’s even possible and rest my chin on the top of her head. Despite the warmth of the blanket and our body heat, I can’t stop the chills that rack me every few seconds.
Before Wyatt took off towards his mom, I caught the tail end of his argument with Andrew. I couldn’t bring myself to watch their interaction. I didn’t want to see Andrew. I couldn’t. I’d either start pummeling him or pulling my hair out, and neither would be helpful.
As a mother, I have never felt fear like that.
Even after I got Brinley out, what would happen if she lost me?
If she grew up without either of her parents?
Would Wyatt stay? Would Vivienne be okay?
My inner monologue is interrupted when I hear footsteps crunch against snow.
At first, I don’t look up. Uninterested in whoever is approaching.
But when I hear Vivienne’s soft voice say “Haden,” I can’t help but peek.
And surprise—I wish I hadn’t. Because Haden is walking towards us, his face is a mask of cold indifference. Haden left before anyone else, so I wasn’t expecting him to show back up here. But the most surprising part is the hand that drags someone else along with him.
Vivienne gasps, “Mom?”
My mother is a mess of matted curls. Ash dusts her cheekbone. Or maybe that’s mud? Her eyes are wild as she yanks at the arm caught in Haden’s grip. “I found her in one of the stalls. Maggie was going crazy.”
The sight of my mother curdles my stomach.
I glance sideways, finding that Blake is already beside me.
I hand Brinley to her, grateful that she takes her godbaby without a word and whispers comforting words into her ear.
Brinley squirms in protest, but Blake holds firm.
“Just for a minute, okay? Mama needs to handle something.”
She’s right. As I watch Blake move away with Brinley—after the clusterfuck of today, I do need to handle it. I’ve gone too long brushing this off, giving people grace when they never deserved it. That ends today. Because if I don’t do better, how can I be better?
I stand, legs weak and lungs barking in protest. The hand I cut in the process of getting Ana and Brinley out still stings, but thankfully the numbing shot they gave me while stitching it up eases the majority of the pain.
I keep my chin tilted and my sight locked on my mom’s face.
Her eyes meet mine with a flicker of surprise.
It quickly turns into an insufferable smugness.
“You paid him to burn it down,” I say, taking a step forward.
I don’t need confirmation. I already knew it was true.
But I did need other answers. “But why? Why did you do it?”
Her lip twitches. “You were supposed to be inside.”
My pulse bangs against my skull, but I stay standing. The next few words escape me with little thought. I knew it was bad, but fuck me who says that to their kid? “You don’t deserve to be a mother.”
“And you do?” she scoffs, running a judgmental eye over me. “Look at you. You can barely handle it.”
Vivienne moves beside me before I can respond. “That’s enough,” she snaps. I blink, forcing myself to not turn and look at her.
My mom ignores her, keeping all attention focused on me. “I did this because I am a good mom.” The way she says it makes me genuinely wonder if she believes it. “I did this for Vivienne. She doesn’t need you screwing up her life any more than you already have.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I spit.
“She left New York and came to this shit town because of you,” She hisses. “All the hard work I put in, gone in an instant.”
I blink–so stunned by the idiocy of it to say anything. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to say my daughter lives in a town like this?” she continues, waving her head back and forth. “When she could be in New York? Working with the best of the best?”
“It wasn’t your hard work,” Vivienne snaps.
Our mother whirls to her, “Do you plan to take after your sister? Work on a farm with your bastard baby and lackluster husband—”
“Yup. That’s enough of that.” Haden cuts my mother off when he yanks her by the back of her jacket. I think we’re all too stunned by his intervention to say anything else.
Deputy Miller who’s been standing nearby swoops in with handcuffs. My mother shrieks, “This is ridiculous! You don’t understand. You can’t just—”
“You just gave a full confession in front of multiple witnesses,” Sheriff Eaton adds coldly. Somewhere between Haden’s appearance and Miller’s arrest, he joined our fun little circle. “Let’s go.”
She thrashes when they cuff her, screaming, and kicking and cursing.
To my dismay, Andrew, who’s being interrogated in handcuffs by another police officer, catches the commotion and perks up when he sees me over the man’s shoulder.
“It was her idea,” Andrew pleads. He takes a step sideways.
I take one back. A hand shoots up between us, making him stop his attempt to push past the officer.
“You’re pathetic,” I scoff. He never could take accountability.
He never would be the victim. My mother and him are so similar it’s frightening.
He blinks, eyes going wide. “I just wanted you back, baby. You weren’t… you were supposed to marry me.”
This dude is fucking crazy. So I laugh. Outright, full-body, howl in his face. “You are the last person on this planet that I would ever marry.”
He gapes at me. I flail my hands around, stunned that he really can’t grasp the concept.
“You stuck your dick in someone else, Andrew. Then you let me raise our daughter alone.” I make a show of raking my eyes over him in disgust. The features I once thought were so handsome before are now clouded by pure hatred. “I don’t want shit from you.”
I watch as his face morphs. First, there was panic. Then there was confusion. And now? Anger. Andrew bares his teeth, “You little-”
Sheriff Eaton barks from behind me, “Enough. Put him in the cruiser and let’s go.”
Andrew sputters some lame protest, but it doesn’t matter.
The red and blue lights pulse, the doors slam, and eventually the cops are peeling away.
My chest feels heavier and heavier as I watch them speed away.
I glance down to find my hands shaking again.
Vivienne comes up beside me, a gentle presence resting on my elbow. “It’s going to be okay.”
Is it? Because the house was gone, which means all of our things are too. Again. My marriage is fake. My mother plotted my murder with my ex. I’m not really sure how okay can exist after that.
Blake steps up beside us, Brinley asleep in her arms. “She was asking for you, then she knocked right out,” my dearest friend whispers softly. I reach out and take her, tucking her back into my chest like the lifeline she is. I let my eyes flutter for a second before taking in the scene once more.
“Happy fucking Thanksgiving,” I mutter.