Chapter 17
SERPENTS AROUND EVERY CORNER
PATIENCE
“Put this on.” Mom shoves a sweater over my shoulders, and I tug it closed. “The new deacon will be here any minute.”
“Why is he coming to our house?”
Mom frowns. “He’s a former associate of your father’s, and he’s new to town. We’re helping get him settled.”
Former associate can only mean one thing, especially where members of my parents’ church are concerned. He’s Sigma Sin. Ironic, really, considering men of God shouldn’t be crafted from a fraternity built by the devil himself.
“Why do I need to be here?”
“Because—” Mom scoffs, turning away so I have to follow her down the long marble hallway. “We’re a family. A unit.”
“Then where are Dad and Alex?”
Mom’s disappointed glare spears me. “Busy.”
Of course they are. As a female, Mom expects me to play homemaker with her, hosting Dad’s friends even though I’m only sixteen and should be focusing on school more than trophy-wife training.
But serving Sigma House and its members is all she cares about.
While my brother slowly learns the ropes that will eventually hang his soul.
The doorbell rings, and Mom shoves me into the library.
It’s rare she answers the door because in her mind, there are people for that.
An entire staff that waits on my family hand and foot, morning to night.
It’s as helpful as it is suffocating. I’m somehow never physically alone but surrounded by people who don’t actually care.
I take a seat in the sitting chair beside my mother and wait while the deacon is greeted and led to the library. It’s one of the largest and most ridiculous rooms in my parents’ house, so it’s where she generally chooses to host visitors.
A reminder to anyone who steps foot on the Lancaster property of their influence and wealth.
The library door swings open, and a man steps through.
He looks nothing like I’d expect of a deacon, late twenties at most. His dark hair is brushed back, and his piercing blue eyes skip between me and my mother. He’s handsome in a traditional sense, but his smile sends a chill up my spine.
There’s something about how it grows when he sees me. How something flares in his eyes.
Mom stands to greet him, holding her hands clasped in front of her. Always appropriate when guests are around.
“Deacon Beech.”
“Ian.” His gaze moves from her to me again. “Please call me Ian when we aren’t in church.”
Another whisper of doubt sweeps me as I push to standing to greet him. He doesn’t take his eyes off me.
Eyes that stare too long and hard, given I’m only sixteen. And when Mom shoves me forward to say hello, my palm sweats as he reaches for my hand.
Ian smiles. “You must be the daughter Gideon speaks so highly of.”
I doubt my father says anything nice about me at all. He rarely even mentions me to his associates. Mom is the one who parades me around. But for the sake of not insulting the deacon, I force a smile.
“It’s nice to meet you.”
When I try to release the handshake, he doesn’t let go. The slightest tug has me stumbling slightly closer. Until there’s no escaping his wicked smile as his eyes skim me.
“The pleasure is all mine.”
When we arrive at my parents’ estate, Dad whisks Alex away almost immediately, leaving Mila and me at the mercy of my mother.
She sits stiff as a board across the library with her ankles crossed. Her martini is balanced on one knee while she toys with the stem of her glass. My mother is all about appearances. Her expression never falters. Her posture never deflates. And she never has more than one drink.
While most people think my father runs the Lancaster household because he’s the Sigma House legacy, it’s really my mother making the demands between these walls. She’s a snake slithering through the grass. Watching everything, waiting to strike.
Mom passes me over with a disappointed sweep of her stare when Mila and I stop beside the couch. “Patience.”
My name, coming from her, never sounds loving. It’s like she’s reminding herself what a disappointment I am.
I don’t break under her stare, burying the discomfort of her focusing on me sitting directly in front of her. Pulling my shoulder blades tighter, I match Mom’s posture and throw up the ice-cold walls I learned from the best.
Mom taps her nails against the stem of her glass, focusing on my feet until I cross my ankles. Only then does she meet my gaze again.
“I see you managed to make time for us after all.” Mom’s attention moves to Mila. “And you brought a friend.”
“Alex brought a friend,” I correct her.
She hates when I do that. Children shouldn’t talk back. It was drilled into me. Yet, Alex never had to play by those same rules. In fact, they encouraged him not to.
Mom hums, ignoring my disobedience. But the pause of her nails on the glass hints at her irritation. A small gesture I only recognize from living with her for eighteen years.
“You said you needed me here this weekend because you were worried about him.” I shove my chin up. “He seems fine.”
“Fine?” Mom scoffs, brushing me off as usual. “Your brother is still refusing to speak, much less come home. He’s far from fine.”
“He’s here right now.” I shrug. “Meeting with Dad to plan another Sigma Sin apocalypse even.”
“They’re simply catching up.” Mom waves a hand in the air to brush me off.
“Alone? Away from everyone else?”
“Your father probably has a book for him in the office.”
“Aren’t there enough books in here?” Mila mutters, and while my mom frowns at her, I have to bite back a laugh. “Just saying.”
At least someone isn’t afraid to stand up to my mother and her ridiculous rhetoric.
Mom opens her mouth, likely to say something venomous to Mila, so I cut her off before she gets the chance. “I’m not a kid anymore, Mom. I know what’s in the books Dad gives him. I know what Dad has Alex doing.”
“Your brother does as he wishes.” Mom takes a drink.
“Because only Alex is allowed to do what he wants, right? Only his indiscretions are forgivable. Only he can make mistakes. While I can’t even leave Bristal for the summer without you and Dad making my life a nightmare?”
“Stop being so dramatic, Patience.” Her stare ices over. “We’ve funded you chasing your dreams as you call them. Getting your silly degree when you don’t need it. This summer was utterly unnecessary. You can’t possibly expect us to support it.”
“Why wouldn’t she need a degree?” Mila blurts out.
“Why would she need it?” Mom turns to Mila, her irritation spiking in her tone, which is unlike her in front of guests. “What’s she going to use that for?”
“Getting a job after college?”
“A job. How ridiculous.” Mom scoffs. “And this is the girl Alex has decided to take an interest in? I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“Why is that, Mother?” My tone is calm now.
Too calm.
I’m so used to my mother running me over in conversation. But not tonight. Not anymore.
Maybe it’s seeing Mila stick up for herself. Maybe it’s my time away. Maybe it’s what I’ve done with Jacob, knowing I’ve already crossed so many lines, what’s one more? But I refuse to hold my tongue for her comfort.
I narrow my eyes. “Because God forbid Alex appreciates a woman who wants to be something more than a puppet?”
“Patience.” Mom grabs the cross dangling from her neck. “Watch how you use our Lord’s name.”
“Or what?” My tone chills. “You’ll have me recite the rosary?”
Just saying that sentence has my knees burning. My elbows aching. My chest tightening. Scars on the outside don’t come close to being as awful as the marks on my soul.
The fire beside us cracks, and Mila jumps. That small flinch is all that breaks the tension on the verge of snapping as my mother stares at me.
“Enjoy your summer, Patience.” Mom taps her glass with a single nail. “We’ll have more to talk about when it’s over.”
If I come back, I think.
I’m tempted to stay in LA. Or if that’s too expensive, take what’s left of my grandparents’ inheritance and disappear where my parents will never find me. If it weren’t for Alex, I would.
“Is there a bathroom I can use?” Mila stands, brushing her palms down the front of her white summer dress.
Mom frowns at Mila’s outfit again. She doesn’t say anything, but I know what she’s thinking.
Mila’s legs are bare, and the hem of her skirt is too short.
It’s one more reason she’ll decide Mila isn’t good enough for my brother.
When, in reality, Mila is the most loving, caring person he could be with.
It was strange coming to terms with the idea of my best friend and brother dating on the car ride over here, but I understand why he finds comfort in her, given the environment we grew up in.
“There’s a bathroom outside the library, three doors to the left.” Mom smiles at Mila, but it isn’t friendly. “I can call someone to guide you.”
“I’m sure I can find it.” Mila grimaces, turning to leave.
Mom watches her while my attention moves to the large cross hanging over the fireplace, gifted to us by Deacon Beech.
The fact that Mom still displays it proudly makes my stomach churn more than the sight of any other cross.
And sometimes I wonder why she still has it here.
For me or for Alex? Maybe to remind us all what happened.
And what came after.
My gut coils into a tight spring as I trace over the intricate details carved into the wood.
Religion was never a comfort when my mom used it as a form of control.
It was one more reason to bow my head and listen.
One more way to feel guilty, whether I should or not. In her eyes, I’ve never been innocent.
The library door clicks closed behind Mila, and I turn to find my mother watching me.
“Your brother is testing us.” Mom takes a sip of her drink. “He knows bringing that girl here will irritate your father.”
“Or Alex just likes her.”
Mom scoffs. “She grew up with a carnival. Did you know that?”
“Yes.” Even if I only found out recently. “Why does that matter?”
“This is your fault.” Mom ignores my question, shifting her irritation from my brother to me, like she always does. “If you were here, you could keep these whores from distracting him.”
“Mila isn’t a whore.” I barely hold my composure. “And I don’t control him any more than you do. Alex does what he wants.”
“You’re being selfish running off to LA. Flitting about in that terrible city.”
“I’m allowed to pursue something for myself.”
“You are a member of this family.” Mom’s voice sharpens. “And you will remember that.”
“Or else what?” My eyes narrow.
Mom taps the stem of her glass in an unnerving standoff. We both know what she would have done when I was younger, but that ended when I started living in the dorms at Briar. She couldn’t risk anyone finding out and it tarnishing her reputation.
“I used to be like you once, Patience. You think I don’t understand you, but I do. Except, I accepted my obligations without so much fight.” The word comes out through gritted teeth, like it irritates her to have to say it. “But I suppose that’s because my father wasn’t nearly as lenient as I am.”
Lenient isn’t a word I’d use for my mother. Although, compared to my grandfather, it’s not an entirely inaccurate statement. My grandmother was kind to her core, but my grandfather was the exact opposite. His personality was a distilled version of my mother’s dark side. Pure hate and callousness.
Mom pinches the bridge of her nose, taking a quick breath to collect herself. “Your father was a good match. I knew what had to be done, and I accepted it with grace.”
“But you didn’t love him.”
Mom’s eyes snap to mine, all warmth gone. “I was seventeen. I didn’t know what love was, and it didn’t matter.”
I’m surprised she says that much when it’s rare she talks about her relationship with my father.
He’s always been in love with my mother.
Fawning over her and protecting her above all else.
She’s the one person he listens to outside of the House.
But it was clear to me from a young age that love was one-sided between them.
“Did you love him eventually?” I ask, knowing I’m pushing it, but something about the wrinkles between her scrunched brows makes me wonder what’s bothering her.
“Him?” Her stare moves up to the cross as she rubs her rosary. “Love is never that simple, Patience.”
It’s not an answer, and if anything, it leaves me with more questions.
But she avoids my stare, and I know better than to continue trying to push it.
I shouldn’t care at all. My mother doesn’t have a heart; I’ve learned that firsthand.
It’s ridiculous to think she could have ever loved anyone but herself.
Of all the things I’ve done tonight, asking my mother about love might be the most absurd.
What would she know?
I don’t know how long we sit in silence, but it isn’t until a yell comes from the hallway that I finally blink, snapping back into my thoughts.
“What’s going on?” My eyebrows pinch as the fighting in the hallway intensifies.
Mom sighs, her gaze filling with annoyance as she takes another sip of her drink. “Your father was taking care of a problem.”
Alex and Mila.
My stomach sinks at what might have happened. I never should have let Mila out of my sight. Not here, where there are serpents around every corner.