Hanging by a Thread (Riley O'Brien & Co. #3) by Jenna Sutton

Author:Jenna Sutton [Sutton, Jenna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780425279977
Amazon: 0425279979
Publisher: Berkley
Published: 2016-06-06T23:00:00+00:00

* * *

“Bebe.”

Someone was calling her name, but she was having a hard time opening her eyes. Warm fingers cupped her cheek and turned her face.

“Come on, baby, wake up.”

Finally, she got her eyes open. She was in the bar of Laurel Court, curled up in a high-backed chair, and Cal was crouched in front of her, his face close to hers.

“There you are,” he said softly.

Reaching out, she touched his cheek. “Oh, Cal. I’m so glad to see you.”

I’m always glad to see you.

He grasped her hand and kissed her palm before turning to look at the waitress. “How much did she have?”

“A double martini, but our bartender is generous, so it probably had close to five shots of vodka,” the chatty waitress answered. “I’ve never seen anybody slam one back so fast. It hit her hard, and then she started crying.”

“Fuck.”

Bebe put her fingers to his lips. “You have such a potty mouth.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, staring into her eyes. “I’ll work on it.”

Wrapping his arm around her waist, he gently pulled her to her feet. Her head felt funny, and she pressed her hand to it.

“Why do people drink hard liquor, Cal? The physical effects are horrible.”

He nodded to the waitress. “What’s your name again?”

“Shelly.”

“Thank you, Shelly.”

He grabbed Bebe’s bag and navy pea coat, and they slowly made their way out of the hotel. Belva was parked right in front with a valet holding open the passenger door, and Cal helped her into the car, buckling the seat belt over her lap.

Just before Cal closed the door, she heard him tell the valet that they would return tomorrow to retrieve her Vespa. She leaned her head against the cool glass of the window, and seconds later, Cal slid into the car. They accelerated away from the hotel, the lights of the city flashing by the window, and she closed her eyes against the brightness.

“What happened?” he asked quietly.

Somewhere inside her foggy mind, she knew she should keep her mouth shut, but it started to move anyway. “She said I was a selfish, useless child who had grown up to be a selfish, useless woman. She said I didn’t deserve her admiration or esteem. She said I disgusted her.”

Her nose was itchy, so she rubbed it on the sleeve of her gray suit jacket. “I knew she resented me. She’s told me before that I was a mistake. An accident. But I didn’t know she hated me.”

Her rings felt as if they were cutting off the circulation in her fingers, and she started to pull them off. “Do you know what, Cal? I’m going to need more rings.”

“Why do you need more rings?”

She glanced at him, wondering why his voice sounded so strange. He was staring straight ahead.

“Because.”

“Because why?” he prodded.

“Because I add a ring for every mean thing she or my father or my brothers say—every time they tell me what a disappointment I am. She said a lot of mean things tonight.” She laughed, and even in her inebriated state, she could hear the hysteria underneath it.

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