Without saying goodbye. Without kissing her, or whispering sweet nothings, I simply walk out the door and stride down the stairs feasting on the sounds of mayhem all around.
I’ve done what I’ve come here to do.
I claimed Lyriope’s body.
I enacted my revenge.
I put a bandage on an oozing wound of my heart and soul.
Temporary victory, but victorious nonetheless.
And as I cross the large expanse of grass of the Morellis’ property leading to where my car is parked in the distance, I toss the final match behind me. A message for my dear friend Bryant Morelli. Since I’m not sure another Tea Party is in our future, it only seems right to bring the party to him.
The scent of smoke kisses my back as I march off the property, swinging my cane in my wake. And a note on Bryant Morelli’s desk right now says:
More Tea?
Chapter Nine
Lyriope
“I’ll catch thenext flight home,” Dylan says into the phone.
I shake my head—not that Dylan can see me—and say, “No. Stay where you are. I’m fine. Truly I am.”
“How the fuck are you fine? You’re in his house. Really?Hishouse?”
Dylan has always hated Bryant Morelli. His desire to someday be a Morelli like I had hoped has never existed. Quite the opposite. Dylan has never been more ashamed over anything than the fact that he shares the same blood as that man. I knew that calling Dylan and telling him what happened in Italy and where I am now wasn’t going to go over well, but I also can’t keep my brother in the dark.
“I have a small apartment here. You need to come live with me,” he continues.
I release a deep breath. “Dylan, you have to trust me when I tell you that this is all going to work out for the best.”
“You sound like Mom,” he snaps, his words searing my core. “That’s what she always said right before she’d fuck things up for us again.”
“Below the belt, brother.”
“I’m sorry, but it’s true.”
Maybe it is. Most likely it is. I’ve proven time and time again that I’m my mother’s daughter no matter how hard I try not to be.
“Have you heard from her lately?” I ask, having no idea where she’s currently living or even how to reach her.
I can’t even imagine what she’d say or do if she knew I was in Bryant Morelli’s house about to wed a complete stranger sanctioned by my biological father. Would she allow this to continue if she knew? Maybe. Most certainly if she could profit some way off it. I suppose the good thing that will come from all of this, is that I will finally be free from my mother. I will be living in a house, not struggling to pay bills, not hustling, and not trying to win the attention and approval of my mother in some sick and twisted way.
“No, and don’t try changing the subject. You’re living with Bryant Morelli and about to be married to a man you don’t know. This is absolutely insane, and I’m not going to allow it.”
“I don’t have a choice. I know you think I do—”
“Of course you do. Don’t pull that shit with me.”
“There’s so much you don’t know,” I begin. And the statement is so true. So very true.
“Then tell me.”
“I can’t.”
I remain quiet and simply listen to Dylan take deep breaths.