Chapter 135 Chapter One hundred and thirty-four
ARA
“You asked him to call Jimmy?” I snapped, disbelief burning through my chest. “Like Jimmy would actually come down here to fight you one-on-one? Thayne, this is not ideal. This is reckless.”
I stepped closer, lowering my voice like reason might finally reach him if I whispered it. It didn’t.
“I want your father to stand in front of me,” he said, his eyes fixed on the wall as though it had personally offended him. “I want him to pull the trigger himself this time instead of cutting the corners by sending amateurs after us. I want this shit wrapped up for good.”
“So do I,” I said, my voice breaking despite my effort to keep it steady. “But not like this. Not by turning yourself into bait.”
He finally looked at me then. “Your sisters are safe now, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“My worry doesn’t stop there,” I shot back. “Your mother—”
“Mr. Slade,” Stuart’s voice cut in sharply. There was a note of urgency in his voice. “Your mother is requesting someone named Lola. We’ve tried to explain there’s no one here by that name, but she’s destroying things. She’s inconsolable.”
Thayne ground his teeth. His fingers tightened around his phone until his knuckles went white. Then, without warning, he lifted his arm and hurled it across the room. The device smashed against the wall and dropped to the floor in pieces.
Stuart looked like he wanted to disappear immediately.
“It’s me,” I breathed, the truth hitting me all at once. “It’s me she wants.”
Thayne opened his mouth to argue, to refuse, to shut the idea down, but I didn’t give him the chance.
“She wants me, Thayne,” I said firmly. “I’ll go.”
I turned, grabbing Stuart by the sleeve and already pulling him toward the corridor he’d come from.
This was why I was here. It was time to stop circling the truth and finally drag it into the light.
When I stepped back into the ward, she was lying face-down on the bed, her shoulders shaking with violent sobs.
The sheets were twisted beneath her fists, damp where her tears had soaked through.
She lifted her head slowly, turning her neck as though she’d sensed me before I even crossed the threshold.
“He lied to me,” she said hoarsely. “He told me you were gone. He said you left.” Her eyes searched my face with a desperate, wounded intensity. “Did you plan to abandon me because of him?”
Fresh tears streamed down her cheeks, cutting raw paths through her fragile composure.
My chest tightened painfully. In her mind, Thayne was his father, and I was my mother.
“No,” I said quickly, gently, keeping my voice soft so I wouldn't trigger her mood swings. “No, I would never leave you. Not ever.”
I took a cautious step closer. “We’ll talk, okay? I’m here now.”
Her condition had worsened, there was no mistaking it. The volatility in her eyes and the way her fingers dug into the mattress told me she was balancing on a thin edge.
One wrong move, one wrong word was all it'd take and she could lash out. Bite. Scream. Break.
So I moved slowly, like you do around something wounded and dangerous at the same time, my heart in my throat, my arms loose at my sides, offering comfort without forcing it.
“I didn’t go anywhere,” I added softly. “I’m right here.”
“Do you hate him?” she asked softly when I finally reached her side.
My hand froze mid-air.
“Hate who?” I asked, even though my chest had already tightened.
“Jimmy,” she whispered, her voice barely holding together. “You must hate him… don’t you?”
Something twisted painfully in my chest. Even like this, confused, fragile, and breaking apart, she was still worried about whether my mother had hated the man who destroyed her.
“Yes,” I said quietly. “I do.”
I swallowed hard before continuing. “But I don’t want to live there anymore. Not now. Not with the baby.”
Her eyes drifted down to my stomach, as if she was seeing it for the first time. She reached out slowly, hesitating, then stopped just short of touching me.
“You’re bigger,” she murmured. “Bigger than I remember.”
A faint, almost confused smile tugged at her lips. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think there were two in there.”
Then she said it, the sentence that felt like someone had pulled the floor out from under me.
“Are you still seeing Nick?” she asked quietly. “Do you think he wants more than just friendship?”
For a moment, my vision flickered. Actual stars danced at the edges, like my brain needed a second to catch up with my body.
Nick. It could be anyone. A coincidence. Nick was a common name in New York. I forced myself not to react, not to stiffen, not to betray the way my pulse had suddenly gone feral.
“I don’t know,” I said carefully, choosing each word like it could detonate. “But he cares about me. Deeply. And… I think I like him.”
Her eyes lit up immediately, and somehow she looked perfectly okay and normal. Then her gaze slid, uninvited, to my stomach.
“Does he know?” she asked. “What really happened. Have you told him the truth yet?”
I bit down on my lower lip, hard enough to sting. This was a tricky question. Did my mother ever have this conversation with Liliana? What if I answered wrong and Liliana said something like, ‘No? But I remember you've told me once that you explained the truth to him’.
That would ruin everything, and Thayne would be vexed if I did anything to trigger her mood swings.
“You should tell him, Lola,” she murmured. “He makes you happy. Nick is—”
The rest of the sentence was sliced cleanly in half. Stuart’s military voice cut through the ward, abrupt and unwelcome, and I hated him for it instantly.
He strode to the door and yanked it open, the hinges protesting as if they shared my mood.
“Jimmy’s received the message. Security has confirmed a ten-vehicle convoy moving through Times Square.”
He was addressing Thayne, who still refused to step into the ward because of his mother.
Behind me, Liliana was still talking, her voice thin but determined.
“…and then we can call you Mrs. Reeds.”
My heart stumbled. Uh…. What?
I turned back to her, confused, disoriented. Stuart’s interruption had broken my focus, snapped the fragile thread holding the conversation together, and now I wasn’t sure if I’d heard her right.
Mrs. Reeds?
Stuart glanced over his shoulder, his expression already locked into mission mode. “It’s time for evacuation.”
No. No, no, no.
I needed more time. I needed answers. I needed her to finish that sentence, needed her to say Nick’s name again, to explain why it sat so comfortably on her tongue, why it felt like a door I’d been circling my entire life without realizing it.
But the universe, it seemed, was done indulging me. Every time I got close, every time the truth stretched out a hand, I was yanked backward.
As if whatever secret tied Nick to my sisters was never meant to be uncovered.