She grabbed my shoulders and jerked me to her.

  My face reared back, or it would’ve been right in her bosom.

  She held tight and I felt her nod against my head. “I’ve missed you. You been gone too long. It’s ridiculous.”

  I looked over her shoulder, saw my mother fighting a grin, and hugged Marie back. As soon as my arms closed around her, her whole body shuddered, and she held on for another beat before shuffling back. She sniffed and almost threw her arm up, wiping the back of her arm over her eye. “You have stuff to work out. You work it out with your family. Got it?”

  I was grinning.

  Same Marie.

  “Got it.”

  She clipped her head in another nod before turning and yanking Matt to her, too.

  It was a whole repeat, almost verbatim, but they faded as my mom came to stand in front of me. She’d lost some weight since I saw her last. That wasn’t good. And there were bags under her eyes. And the spark, her feisty spark, wasn’t there. It was, but it was less. It had faded.

  So, very not good.

  I noted all that, said not a word, and she tugged me to her for a hug, just one that wasn’t as tight as Marie’s.

  She whispered in my ear, “Payton didn’t come. Martha thought, if anyone got a picture, she looks too much like Quinn. It’d set off a whole new round of tabloid gossip and theory.”

  Ooh. That was brilliant.

  I stepped back. “Good thing Peter has that publicist on retainer, huh?”

  Chrissy grinned back, but like everything else I noted, the usual spunk wasn’t there.

  My heart took a dive.

  This wasn’t good, so very not good.

  I hesitated, but then started. “Mom—”

  Another arrival swept inside, and when I say “swept,” I mean he really did sweep.

  Peter came in, loaded to the teeth with bags. He had bags on his shoulders, on his arms, a strap was hanging from his actual teeth. And he was shoving two large bags forward with his legs.

  Matt snorted before going to help his dad.

  Chrissy sighed. It was faint, but I heard it, and she moved to my side, keeping an arm around my back.

  I’d missed my mom’s public displays of affection. I’d forgotten how a hug from her made the morning dread go away, or a cuddle on the couch settled me in my belly.

  Though now her body was aligned next to mine, her head to my shoulder, and I was pretty sure I was giving her all those effects right now. She seemed to be settling, and her arm got heavier around my waist as the guys finished bringing in the bags, then stopped and hugged each other. It wasn’t a man hug. It was a full hug.

  Well.

  The flare that was normally in my mom seemed to have moved.

  Peter’s face was lit up.

  Like Seraphina, I’d never seen my father more alive and healthy and happy. A bright, wide smile. His teeth seemed more blinding, matching the whites in his eyes as they were dancing, too, and scanning the room. He found me. His face melted, warming, and in two steps he was across the room to me. He caught me up, pulling me from my mom, and his hug was almost as strong as Marie’s. Almost. It was a close second.

  He lifted me off my feet, shook me just a little, affectionately, and set me back down.

  I heard Marie whisper in the back, “Dios mío.”

  “You and Matt being here, calling for a family trip. Best idea ever.”

  Wow.

  He was beaming at me, literally beaming.

  He made a face, pulled me back, and his hand smoothed down my hair. He bent his head and whispered to me, “You’re looking a lot better than the last time I saw you.”

  I convulsed at this, my arms jerking, and I was hugging him back just as hard as he was holding me.

  “I was so worried about you that day, and Kash came in.” He tipped his head back so he could see me better. “I thought I looked at Kashton as a son, but that day … that day he truly became a son to me. He put me in my place, because I was so worried, but he didn’t do it to be mean. He did it because I was getting in his way to getting to you. And Kash, as you’ve probably noticed by now, has no patience when it comes to anything getting between him and what he needs to do to take care of his loved ones. That boy—” He cursed softly, laughing lightly. “‘Boy.’ He’s not a boy anymore. That man loves you. I know I’ve messed up in the past and I’ve got a lot to make up for, going forward, but I couldn’t be as proud as I was in that hallway. I was terrified because my daughter was hurting, but I was also proud, and just filled with so much love. All the crap I’ve done in the past, one thing I gave you was him. I shouldn’t take the credit, but I’m going to.” He framed my face with his hands. “I love you, Bailey. I need to say it more often, something I’m doing with the others, too.”

  Okay.

  Kash.

  That was another something I was going to tackle later, when he was here. Then I would know what I was supposed to be feeling. Right now, I wasn’t so sure. But that wasn’t for the here and now between Peter and me.

  He set me back, putting an arm around my mom’s side and pulling her to his side. Both of them surveyed me, and I saw I’d been wrong.

  Chrissy was content.

  The feisty flare I’d been used to wasn’t there, but it didn’t need to be there. She was at peace, and I had never, never seen my mom looking like that.

  I was floored.

  What had been happening at the house this last month?

  Chrissy laughed. “She’s not used to seeing me like this.”

  Peter grinned, his head tilting down to rest over the top of hers. “We’ve struck our daughter speechless.”

  A gargle left me.

  I sputtered.

  I couldn’t. I could not.

  Who were these people?

  “Come on, honey.” Chrissy took pity and broke free from Peter’s hold. She came to me, her arm sliding around my waist, and she walked me up the stairs. “We’re going to have some much needed mother–daughter time right now.”

  “Can I come?”

  We paused.

  Seraphina had skipped to the bottom of the stairs where we were. She was holding her iPad, her eyes all lit up and hopeful.

  Chrissy tensed beside me.

  I was the one who took pity now. “Give me a bit, Ser. There are some things Chrissy needs to talk to me about, so come up in thirty minutes? Yeah?”

  She shot me a grin back. “Yeah! See you in thirty. Mother–daughter–sister time.”

  I was melting. Full-out. My knees were going to become one with the floor.

  Chrissy chuckled in my ear, her arm tightening around my waist. “Let’s go.” And once we were up a few steps, another chuckle. “You’re becoming such a softie.”

  I shot her a look. “Like you aren’t? I barely recognize you.”

  Then we were in my room. The door closed behind us and Chrissy headed for the couch. I perched on the end of the bed and we stared back and forth.

  Hayes women did not like to get into heavy discussions—at least not with each other.

  Chrissy sighed, scooting to the edge of the couch and sitting with her shoulders up, her head up, as if she were taking tea with the English queen herself. I half expected a teacup and saucer to appear and her little finger to curl in the air.

  Me, I grabbed a pillow, because my gut was flaring and I wasn’t sure what was coming my way.

  This.

  This, whatever Chrissy was about to say, was why half of her spark was gone.

  I knew it, and I didn’t want to know it, but then she said it.

  “We’re in trouble.”

  See. There.

  I so fucking didn’t want to know it.

  I shoved down a knot and nodded. “Okay. Tell me what’s going on.”

  A tear slipped from her eye.

  “I’m in love with your father.”

  FORTY-FOUR

  That was not what I’d been expecting.

  “Say what?”

  “I’m in love with your father.” She waited, as if she’d made a huge announcement, like she had gotten the codes for the nuclear weapons and was filling me in on the secret. Granted, I wasn’t sure how I was feeling about this either, but it wasn’t the end-of-the-world stuff I’d been dealing with lately.

  “Okay.”

  Her eyebrows shot up, and fast. “Okay? Okay? That’s all I get? Just ‘Okay’?”

  I scooted back more firmly on the bed. Another one or two exclamations like that and I’d be falling off the bed. “I mean, I know you were sleeping with each other. You came to me, offering to go back to Brookley. I could tell you were scared. I didn’t really analyze it, but now I can see why you were scared.” I motioned to her. “Because you were falling in love with him.”

  Thinking about today, I added, “And if he hasn’t said the words, it looks like he feels the same.”

  Her mouth thinned. “Your very nonresponse response is pissing me off.”

  I grinned. “I told him to treat you right, Mom.”

  The “Mom” did it. Her lips parted, then curved up.

  I continued, “You either cut and run, which is what you suggested, or you dig in and start growing roots. I didn’t go, and you never ran, so yeah. It makes sense that’s where you’re at now, just as long as he treats you right.” I was stepping back into our more normal roles, because I took on the motherly tone. “I’d highly suggest counseling. For both of you.”

  “Why?” Her eyes got big.

  “Because he has a problem with women. You both should do counseling. It’s a smart idea to work out the bugs before really getting too deep.” But she was already too deep, and I clamped my mouth shut, really getting it now.

  She’d said the l-word. That was deep for us Hayeses.

  “We’re in counseling. I thought you were saying for a specific reason.”

  Oh, whoa again.

  “You’re in counseling?”

  She nodded. “We’ve been for a month. It’s the only way I’d commit to anything long term—besides, you know, the sex.”

  Cringe.

  “Mom.” I closed my eyes.

  “What? You just talked about it yourself.”

  “Yeah. In a very clinical way. Hearing it from your mom, and the little happy sigh at the end of that word, was not what I needed to hear.”

  She was smiling. She didn’t care.

  Maybe it was a point I didn’t need to fight about. I still didn’t know how I felt about it. I was assuming I’d watch, over the next day, to see, and then think on it. But I really didn’t need to think on it. They were moving forward, and anything I had to say wouldn’t be heard anyway. So yes. I was just going to keep quiet and observe, then pick up the pieces if or when it fell apart.

  I’d decide then if I’d hate my father or not.

  “Okay. So…” Subject change. I heard her get more businesslike. “Tell me what’s going on. Why are we out here?”

  I knew what she was asking.

  “We’re up here because I wanted to hear about whatever’s going on with you.”

  I was being a smartass.

  Her face went flat. She cocked it to the side. “Don’t smart me. I’m not asking why we’re in your room, and you know it.”

  I laughed. “We came out here to distract Matt. We found out Quinn was in contact with someone he knows, and if we stayed in Chicago, he would’ve done something stupid.”

  At the mention of Quinn, Chrissy Hayes’s flare came back, full force.

  There was a tic on the side of her neck, and her vein was sticking out. My mother just became the Terminator.

  “Mom?” I was treading lightly here.

  She growled, a full, bearlike growl, and shot to her feet. She began pacing. “I hate that bitch. You don’t know, Bailey. You have no idea. The games she plays with those two little ones, I could just wring her neck.”

  I sat back.

  Not good.

  “She’s playing games?”

  She kept pacing. “Calling them collect, only talking to them if they answer. Marie came back last week. I still don’t know why she was sent away. He won’t say, and no one else is talking—Marie either—but if she answers, or Theresa, the bitch hangs up. That was when she was still in the county jail. Now she’s out, it’s a whole lot worse. She’s calling to question them about homework, what they’re eating, when they’re going to bed. Who they see during the week. She’s not questioning them in a mom way. She’s interrogating them to control them. She found out Ser’s private tutoring with that other Quinn, two-point-oh, was canceled and she blew a lid. She started yelling at Seraphina, not at Peter. I was in the room when she took the call, and Ser folded. These big tears came to her eyes and she went to her knees, Bailey. Her knees. If I ever wanted to murder someone, it’d be Quinn.”

  Ser on her knees and crying was going to haunt me forever.

  I had questions, fervent and panicked and slightly hysterical questions, though I knew they could be for another night. Like why was Peter allowing this? What were the conditions of the case where she could call her children? What were his lawyers doing to get her back behind bars?

  But this.

  It hit me, rocking me in place.

  This was why Calhoun had posted her bail, to set her free on her family and the little ones. To hit us where we would bleed the most.

  He was a bastard, a dirty fucking ruthless and calculating bastard. Mom wanted Quinn, and I wanted him.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She pffted at me, still pacing and flicking her wrist in my direction. “Not your fault. So not your fault. It’s all hers. And your father, I keep telling him the divorce needs to be done now, but it’s not happening. She was going to sign. He told me it was done, and then nothing. She changed her mind, and now her lawyers are playing all these games. And the trial. Don’t get me started on that, either.”

  “Wait. Trial?”

  I suddenly got serious—very, very serious.

  “Chrissy.” I stood slowly from the bed. “What’s happening with the trial?”

  It was my trial, about me, and why did she know and I didn’t?

  A wave of panic started to push in, but I held firm. I shoved it back. I wouldn’t let myself go there, not here, not with my family here.

  She stopped, her face going white. “Dios mío,” she whispered. “I messed up.”

  I pulled out my phone, bringing up the news websites, but there was nothing. There was no mention of Quinn and a pending trial date.

  I blacked my screen and gripped my phone tight. “I thought trials like that take forever.”

  Chrissy wasn’t talking. She stopped. She was only staring at me.

  That panic was pushing back, crawling inside of me again.

  I swallowed over a knot. “Mom.”

  But then there was a tentative knock at the door, right before it opened, and Seraphina stepped inside. She was holding her iPad, an uncertain expression on her face. She’d changed clothes so she was in leggings and a large sweatshirt. Her hair had been braided behind her, too, with a few wisps falling to frame her face.

  She looked so beautiful, like a real angel.

  “Can I—Did I give you enough time?” Her eyes were darting between Chrissy and me.

  I wanted to ask for more time. I needed to know about Quinn. But I saw how Seraphina’s hand had bunched her sleeve over both hands. One sleeve slipped half-down on the iPad, over the corner. The other hand was wringing the doorknob.

  She bit down on her lip.

  My time could wait.

  I held open my arms. “Now is perfect. Come here. I want to hug you again, and then you need to tell me everything about your friends and school.”

  It was the right thing to say.

  As I sat and listened to Seraphina for the next hour, Chrissy sat with us, and both of us just listened, because it wasn’t lost on either of us that Seraphina was chatting away.

  Seraphina had never just chatted.

  Things were good, or things were getting there, and I felt something shift from my shoulders. Calhoun aside, Quinn aside, hoping Peter wouldn’t cheat on my mother aside, everything else would be fine.

  I truly thought that, for the first time since the night a stranger slapped his hand over my mouth and told me I was going to be kidnapped.

  This would be my third mistake that day.

  * * *

  Peter burst through the door five minutes later. “Where are the guards?”

  “What?”

  Seraphina stiffened next to me on the couch.

  Chrissy sat upright in her chair.

  He glanced back, then to me. “I asked Matt, but he said the guards weren’t around today. He assumed they were on the perimeter.” His mouth firmed a second. “They’re not.”

  Oh—

  I whispered bleakly, “I thought the same thing. I didn’t even notice.” They’d been gone since I woke up. Kash had called once to let us know he was boarding a plane from Berlin. He’d be arriving around one in the morning.

  I looked at the clock.

  That was six hours from now.

  There was a pounding, the sound of a stampede, coming down the hallway. A guard came to a stop, looked at us, then jerked Peter away from the door. I didn’t recognize this one.

  I was on my feet in the next instant.

  “Bailey—”

  I whipped around, but pointed at my mom. “Stay with Seraphina.”

  She looked alarmed, but she did, taking my place on the couch and scooping Ser into her arms—a Ser who was suddenly shaking almost violently.

  I stepped out in the hallway.

  Peter cursed, but he moved to shut the door behind me.

  He and the guard descended on me.

  Peter spoke first. “They found the night guards. They’re dead.”

  I lost my breath.

  I started to fall, but no.

  I stopped. Kash wasn’t here. He couldn’t ride in and save the day. I shared a look with my dad. It was up to us. I was trying to translate that to him, and he nodded. He got it.

  The guard continued, “All the other guards are gone. We can’t reach any of them. The ones usually assigned to you were told they got a day off. None of them showed. I just got ahold of Erik—”