“No,” I say, wiping my tears against her shirt. “I should have been honest with you. I didn’t want to hurt you. You were so happy here and I didn’t want to be the reason that you started worrying. You'd already been through so much with losing Dad. I couldn’t bear the thought of adding to that pain. I know how you worry and I feared that you would regret the decision to come here when in reality, this is the best thing that has ever happened to us.”
“Oh, honey. When will you realize that I’m the parent in this relationship? You don’t need to always be strong for me. You went through something traumatic and I wasn’t there for you when you needed me and I will always bear that on my soul, but I promise you, you always have been and always will be my number one priority. I will be better. From now on, you will never feel that you can’t come to me. I just wish I’d have been there for you. I would have just sat there with you and we would have cried until the pain went away.”
“I know,” I whisper. “I hated keeping it from you. I was so ashamed. I felt like I had failed you with every single life lesson you’ve ever taught me. I allowed myself to be vulnerable and because of that, I got hurt.”
“No, no. You didn’t do anything wrong. That awful boy took advantage of you. He hurt you. You were victimized and attacked. You did nothing wrong but try to be comfortable in your home. You are not at fault. Do you understand me? You are the most beautiful, bravest, strongest, courageous, intelligent, and loving human being I have ever had the pleasure of knowing, and don’t you ever forget that.” she tells me, holding me impossibly tighter.
My eyes close as I sink into her hold, taking every ounce of love she has on offer. “I love you,” I whisper.
“I love you too my sweet baby girl.”
I pull back and meet her eyes that are so similar to mine. “We’re turning over a new leaf,” I tell her. “From now on, there are no secrets between us. Straight up honesty.”
“I agree,” she says, taking both of my hands.
“In that case,” I say, letting out a shaky breath. “Why don’t you sit down? There are a few things I’ve discovered over the past twenty-four hours, things that we really need to talk about.”Chapter 35Mom takes a seat on the couch just as Colton walks into the room. He takes one look at us and the grim look in my eyes and spins on his heel, only to stalk right back out again. I can’t blame him. This isn’t exactly a place I want to be either.
How am I supposed to tell my mother that the man I brought into our lives is responsible for killing her husband?
I take a shaky breath and mom reaches for my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “What is it, honey? Do you need me to come down to the police station with you to give your statement?”
“Oh,” I say, slightly taken by surprise. “No, I uhh … well, actually yeah. That would be good, but that’s not what I needed to talk to you about.”
Her brow raises, knowing it must be something serious after I went to the added effort of asking her to sit down. “What else could there possibly be to talk to me about?”
“It’s about Dad,” I warn.
Her brows fly straight back up. “What about him?”
“More about who killed him.”
Mom’s body freezes and she stares at me with fear. “You know?” she questions, her hands beginning to shake. “You know who did it?”
A single tear falls from my eye and I try to find the strength to continue, knowing that she deserves the absolute truth. I can’t hide this from her. He was her husband and this isn’t just hiding little details from her, this is life and death.
I meet her eyes and feel the heartache creeping up my chest but I push it back down, intent to get this out. “It was Dominic, Mom. I found the dagger in his room last night. He killed Dad and then he killed Charles Carrington to keep it quiet.”
Mom pulls back, sucking in a gasp and staring at me as though I’m telling some sick, twisted joke. “Dominic?” she questions in horror. “No, Ocean. That’s not funny. Who told you to say that?”
“I really, really wish I was joking,” I tell her. “He betrayed us. He killed my dad and he’s not even sorry about it. He stood in our living room and promised me that he would find whoever did it, but he was lying. It was him.”
Tears begin to well in her eyes as it starts to sink in. “Nic did it? The boy I’ve always treated as a son? The boy who I welcomed into my home?”