“She’s never given him information that she wouldn’t be privy to. Your mother doesn’t know the shit that could fuck us.”
“No, but she knows about the mission,” Breckin realizes. “She wanted you close to Brenner, but why?”
Oren releases my face and glares at Breckin. He throws his hands up in surrender.
Then it hits me.
Whoever Liam is to my dad is important. We know that. Tawny using Deavers to drop my true identity ultimately would cause a rift in something we don’t quite understand. Liam already blames my dad for leaving him broken as a boy. I saw the raw pain in his eyes just the other day.
“She wanted to use my betrayal of him, hoping to kill me off.” My words die off in a whisper.
There’s still so many pieces to this puzzle of fuckery we aren’t getting. Not everything adds up with the missing pieces of my dad’s secrets and the ball coming up. I’m riddled with questions I don’t have the clues to answer.
Why would she push for this arrangement if she thought I’d be dead, anyway? Tawny isn’t allowed to leave the house. How is she fucking this agent? Who has she got on her side to help her get away with all this?
I knew my mother wanted me gone, but not dead. Placing the blame on Liam would keep her hands clean and keep her safe. I’ve written her off as my protector and someone who gave a shit a long time ago. It doesn’t make it sting any less.
Liam was bound to find out my identity. With his name on the guest list for the ball, it’d happen then at the latest. But I’d be surrounded by people who’d rip him apart if he stepped in the wrong direction. If he got me alone and what my mother would hope to be vulnerable, he’d have a better chance of offing my ass.
Just like most people, she seems to underestimate my capabilities.
“He wouldn’t.” Oren shakes his head. “Liam loves you, Malia.”
And that stings a little worse.
Breckin snorts beside me, and I look at him. He winces as he moves his jaw around to check for damage.
Good.
Without another word, I storm off to my bedroom with both men on my heels. Gathering a jacket and some shoes, I head out the door. They protest but don’t stop me from leaving. I’m done playing with this woman. It ends today.
Breckin must have called Donovan because he calls me five times before I turn my phone off. Tawny was never a mother to him, either, but she wasn’t cruel to him. He was lucky enough to be ignored and used as a trophy son when it helped her image. And that’s enough to strip you of your love for a parent completely. There’s no love lost between those two.
Once again, I got lost in my thoughts while driving to The Omen Mansion. My pistol lies on my thigh as I twist and turn down the roads, ready to blow through anyone that tries to stop me.
I don’t park in the garage but pull up to the front of the house and barge in. Hazel comes barreling out of the kitchen when I enter, a sigh of relief when she looks at me.
“We need to talk,” she says, eyeing the gun in my hand.
Maybe it’s the look in my eye or my twitchy fingers, but she walks over to me slowly with her hands out.
“We need to go to your dad about this, Mal.”
“Fuck Dad,” I spit.
Hazel jerks at my outburst. I don’t know what she sees while looking at me right now, but it has her treading lightly.
“You think he doesn’t know? He’s got this place locked down like Fort Knox. You’re in charge of the goddamn security around here, Hazel. How the fuck didn’t you know?”
I don’t wait for an answer, storming past her and head to the wing that holds Tawny’s office. I can hear her voice from the hallway as I inch closer. I tuck my pistol into the back of my pants and storm in.
Her head snaps up at my entrance, dropping her phone from being startled. Tawny watches as it drops to the floor, the sound of the screen shattering in the room. I take advantage of her distraction and close the distance, wrapping my hand around her throat and shoving her against the wall.
“Malia!” Tawny croaks in exasperation like she didn’t know this day would come for her.
“What the fuck did I ever do to you?” I spit through clenched teeth. Pressing against her throat harder, enjoying the way her eyes bug out from the pressure.
“Baby girl,” Dad’s voice comes from behind me. He rests a calming hand on my shoulder, urging me to step back. I release her, but only because they have explaining to do.