Taking Control (Kerr Chronicles #2)(39)
Author: Jen Frederick

“Never. Not once,” I answer.

“Then you think I’m stupid to come here with Mitch. I know he’s scum. You think I shouldn’t give in to him, pay him any attention.”

She’s trying to pick a fight with me. I press the privacy console. Steve doesn’t need to hear this.

“I don’t think you’re stupid. I think you’re too generous with your forgiveness and affection. I’m afraid that he’s going to take advantage of that.”

“I’m just trying to do what I think Mom would want.” Her voice is aggressive, and her chin juts out in challenge. “I can’t do what you think I should do all the time. It makes me feel like a toy. I’m an Ian Kerr accessory piece. Maybe not one that Frank would have picked out, but a knock-off that you’d find on Canal Street.”

I stare with incredulous disappointment, not sure where her insecurity is coming from.

Tiny leans her head against the window and sighs heavily. “I’m sorry. I just I miss her.”

Compassion eats away at anger. “I know you do.”

Leaning across the expanse of leather, I run my hand over her shoulder and down her arm, trying to impart some comfort and love. Her whole world changed recently, I remind myself. The adjustment might take some time. I need to be patient.

“Will I ever stop missing her?”

I think back to my trip down memory lane yesterday and the near knee-buckling grief I felt as I recalled how both my parents died. “No,” I admit softly. “But it’s less painful every day, every year.”

She peels away from the window and crawls into my lap. The wound from the loss of her mother is stark in her eyes.

If I could, I’d suck all her pain out like poison from a wound. I tuck her head under my chin and hold her, hoping my embrace conveys what I can’t express with words. That I love her. That she’s my everything. That we can endure anything so long as we’re together.

We walk to the grave together. Mitch is already there, pretending to weep, blowing loudly into a handkerchief. Malcolm is rocking back on his heels, his hands shoved into his pants pockets. His suit must have been retrieved from the floor of his closet, given its rumpled state.

Beside me, Tiny’s hands clench and unclench as she stares at the headstone, but it’s Malcolm who looks as if he’s the most uncomfortable person present. I stare at him from behind my sunglasses. Possibly sensing my scrutiny, his gaze lands on me before shifting to Tiny—and for a small moment, a naked longing is revealed. The look is intense and anguished and so swift that if I hadn’t been staring, I never would have caught it.

I glance at Tiny to see if she sees his very non-fraternal feelings toward her, but her eyes are fastened on the headstone. Her jaw is tight as she tries not to lose it in front of the Hedders. Her unspoken desire to remain calm is what keeps me from reaching for her.

Malcolm’s feelings for Tiny put another wrinkle in the situation. He definitely could be the one behind my assault, if for no other reason than the idea that I’m the one making love to Tiny every night is killing him. Before me, Tiny had had one boyfriend and a few hookups, as she’d described them. None of them were serious enough to have prompted a reaction from Malcolm. From what she told me, the relationship ended because her ex liked to sleep around.

After Mitch places a few flowers on the headstone, he comes over to embrace Tiny. She flinches at the touch, and I place my hand on her elbow to reassure her. She braces herself and pats Mitch gingerly on her back. Malcolm’s gaze tracks Tiny’s every movement. It’s unnerving.

At least my presence is a sufficient deterrent to keep both Hedders from enacting some kind of con at the gravesite.

“Thank you so much for bringing me, Tiny,” Mitch says. I grit my teeth at hearing her nickname come out of his mouth. It was her mother’s name for her, and it doesn’t sit right with me that he’s using it.

“You can thank me by telling me what you have of Sophie’s.” Her voice cracks at her mother’s name, but her stare at Mitch is unwavering.

“Let’s go back to the Plaza. We can sit down and—”

“No,” Tiny interrupts. “I want to know what you have of hers. I had dinner with you. I brought you here to pay your respects, and now you tell me what you have of my mother’s.”

“Your mother would have wanted us to be friends,” Mitch replies.

“Bullshit.” Tiny responds. I stifle a laugh at Mitch’s shocked expression. “Bull-fucking-shit. You don’t have the first clue what Sophie wanted—not when you were married and not now. I’m going to assume that this is some long con you’re running to get money out of Ian and you don’t have shit of my mother’s. You’re a snake, Mitch Hedder—a disgusting vile snake to use my mom’s death to make a play for cash or whatever it is you think you can get out of me or Ian. I’m done.”

She grabs my hand and tugs me toward Steve and our idling car. Behind me I can hear Mitch scrambling to follow us.

“You have it all wrong, Tiny. Your mother left me. I still loved her.”

If steam could come out of a person’s ears, I would be seeing it right now. Tiny’s face is a thundercloud of anger. She whirls and advances on Mitch. He takes a step backward and loses his footing. We all watch as his arms pinwheel futilely in the air to gain balance. He fails and falls backward, nearly striking his head on a granite headstone.

“Go, just go,” Malcolm waves us off. With resignation, he helps his father off the ground. “He won’t bother you. If he has something of Sophie’s, I’ll get it for you.”

“Thank you,” Tiny says.

As she turns away, Malcolm calls out, “If you need anything, I’m here for you.”

She looks over her shoulder with a quizzical look. “I have Ian now.”

Those words make me want to pick her up and howl at the moon with satisfaction. I content myself with simply holding her hand.

“Should we go home?” I ask once we’re in the car.

“I’d like to go back to work,” she admits. “If I go home, I’m afraid I’ll brood. I’m in one of those moods where I want to put on melodramatic music and cry for hours.” At my wince, she laughs. “Even you don’t want that.”

“I feel like I could distract you.”

“I don’t doubt it, but you should save up your energy for tonight. I’ll be ready then.” She leans forward and gives me a quick kiss.