“I need to see you. Are you alone?”
“Are you?”
“Yes. I’ll be there shortly.” She gave me her room information and I ended the call.
Two deep breaths, and I tucked the weapon back in my purse and exited the vehicle.
Crossing the street, I dodged a car and continued to the brightly lit entryway. After smoothing my hair in the glass and adjusting my expensive leather jacket, I pasted a serene expression on my face. Then I approached the elevators. Thankful to have it to myself, I stepped on.
It seemed to move at a snail’s pace, but finally it dinged and silently slid open. I approached the double doors that led to my mother’s suite. Knocking on the door, I worked to compose myself.
“This is unexpected,” my mother said with a bored expression as the door swung open.
“We need to talk,” I said as I pushed past her. Stopping in front of the large windows, I stared out over the city lights.
“By all means, come in,” she drawled, then the door clicked shut. The clinking of ice against crystal told me she was making herself a drink. Then she said, “Your friends are good at making enemies.”
Fighting off my rage, I turned to face her. “I cannot believe you gave birth to me.”
She rolled her eyes and took a sip of her drink. “Well, if we’re here to discuss ourfeelings, the truth is I neverwantedto have children. The only reason you’re even here is a drunken night and forgotten birth control.”
“Wow, thanks, Mother.” Absolutely disgusted, I scoffed. “So why did you bother to take me with you when you left Dad? Oh wait, because it was another act of manipulation. Something you’re so very good at.”
She gave a mirthless laugh. “Have you been talking to your father?”
Fury bubbled within, and I wanted to scream. I wasn’t sure which was worse, having a mother like her or a father like Angel had dealt with growing up.
“Did you even lose a second of sleep over your grandson being stolen with plans to be trafficked?” The tremor in my voice made me angry, because I wanted to show as much emotion as she had. None.
She took another sip of her drink and gave me a look of mock concern. “Whatever are you talking about?”
“Don’t play games, Mother dear. Are you really going to sit there and pretend like you didn’t stop by the clubhouse and tell me I wouldn’t see my son again?” My voice rose an octave by the end of my question. I was beginning to lose control.
“Perhaps you should see a therapist, dear. I think you’ve become delusional,” she said with a pathetic excuse for a sympathetic frown. After all, the woman wouldn’t know sympathy unless she was acting it out like she did for her voters.
Finally snapping, I stormed toward her. To her credit, she didn’t so much as flinch. I was beginning to think she may not be human. That, or she sold her soul to the devil. “You are an inhuman, sadistic bitch!”
“Don’t be dramatic,” she fiercely whispered as she narrowed her eyes.
My hand slipped into my bag, and I pulled out the gun, pressing it to her temple. “Kentucky state representative Eugenia Florentine commits suicide in Iowa hotel suite,” I said through clenched teeth.
A flicker of fear flitted through her green eyes before the mask was back in place. “Is this what you’ve reduced yourself to? You have your son back; what more do you want? Shouldn’t you enjoy your time with him while you can? Because trust me when I tell you, I’m the least of your worries as an enemy.”
Her response told me she knew exactly who had taken my son, otherwise she wouldn’t have known I had him back. And neither would she be able to throw around the threats she was tossing out.
“Who? Former senator Damon?” At my question, her nostrils flared, and I knew I was correct.
The lock disengaging sounded before the door swung open, pulling my gaze up. Shock hit me as I watched Angel, Ghost, Phoenix, and Raptor walk in.
Angel’s mocha-colored eyes ignored my mother and the gun I held to her head as they locked on me. “Baby, you don’t want to do this,” he murmured, and my eyes watered, blurring my vision momentarily.
A tear slipped free to slide down my cheek as my finger trembled on the trigger. “Yes, I do. As long as she’s alive, I’ll never feel like our son is safe.”
Slowly, he shook his head. “He needsyou—his mother. If you end up in prison for murder, how do you think he’s going to feel?” He attempted to rationalize, but I didn’t want to hear it, because it might deter me from what I needed to do.
“He’ll have you and Jasmine,” I replied as another tear trailed down my face to drip off my chin.
Phoenix took a slow step forward, as did Ghost. “Don’t you play your disappearing act, or I’ll pull the trigger right now,” I said to Ghost. He held up his hands in surrender and took a step back.