The Perfect Couple (Last Stand #4)(78)
Author: Brenda Novak

"Then what does she want?"

He wasn’t sure, but he knew, whatever her reason, her call wasn’t a good thing. The very last time he’d seen her, he’d been a senior in high school and had still been living with Paddy. She’d come to visit and had blamed him for slashing her tires while she was there. She’d screamed at him, called him the spawn of Satan.

He had been the one to ruin her tires, but she shouldn’t have been so quick to accuse him. She should’ve had some doubt, or at least some desire to believe him.

"We’ll see." He hit the Talk button just before it went to voice mail.

"Hello?"

"Colin?"

It was his mother, all right. "What do you want?" he said.

"I want you to tell me where your father is."

The tension was back, clawing at his gut. She’d always known about him. That was why he hated her so much. When he looked into her face, he saw his true self staring back at him. "Who told you about Dad?"

"Sheryl called me. She wanted to know if he went back to me. Can you believe that? After all this time?"

Colin cringed because he’d probably caused that call. "She’s jumping to conclusions," he said. "Dad’s taken off, but he’ll come home. He always came home before, right?"

"He was happy with Sheryl. He wouldn’t leave."

"Well, I don’t know what to tell you, then. He didn’t check in with me.

I have no idea where he is."

"I think you might. He tried to call me last night. I wasn’t there, but he left a message, said he needed to talk to me about something very important.

He said it had to do with you."

Colin tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "You’ve been out to get me for a long time."

"Only because I’ve been expecting something like this. Years ago, I promised myself that if anything ever happened to any member of the family, I’d look to you first."

"Would you listen to yourself? You’re crazy, you know that? Any normal mother would assume the best of her son."

"Those mothers don’t have a son like mine."

"How do you know? How can you be so sure that I’m different?"

"Because you’ve been different from the day you were born, Colin.

The first words out of your mouth were a lie, and you haven’t stopped lying since. I tried to remedy that by taking you to church. I thought religion might help you develop the conscience you lacked. But you simply played everybody–church leaders, your schoolteachers, even your father."

"If I’m screwed up, it’s your fault! You were abusive!"

Laughter filtered through the phone, as derisive as it was incredulous.

"I was abusive? Because I tried to discipline you? Because I refused to let you manipulate me? Sure, I spanked you. There had to be some consequences for your behavior, and I didn’t know what else to do. I was at my wits’ end and was still fighting to save a son I wanted to love. I believed if you could only learn to take responsibility for your actions and to respect the rights and feelings of others, you’d be okay. But it was no use. You were purposely cruel to your little sister. And you turned Paddy and me against each other, broke up what would’ve been a happy marriage. You even convinced your teachers and coaches, the parents of your friends, that I belonged in an asylum."

It had almost worked, too. He’d nearly had his mother committed, right after her nervous breakdown. They’d tried that on each other. "That is where you belong. What mother could do what you did?"

"Disappear with Courtney? It was my only choice. I had to save the one child worth saving."

"Go to hell," he said and almost hung up, but her next words made him freeze.

"I’m calling the cops, Colin. And I’m telling them that I think you’re dangerous."

"If you do that, you might find out how dangerous I can be," he said.

"Is that a threat?" she countered.

He jammed a hand through his hair. He had to be careful, couldn’t let his temper get away from him. She could be recording this call. "Of course not. I’d never hurt you or anyone else. You just…get me so angry that I say stupid things. You always knew how to push me to the point of lashing out."

"Tell me what you did to Paddy, Colin."

"I didn’t touch him!"

"He loved you, you know. The poor bastard loved you, more than he loved me or Courtney, or he and I would still be together. You owe him a lot for his blind faith. I hope you haven’t repaid him the way I think you have,"

she said and hung up.

Colin’s heart and lungs were pumping as fast as if he’d run five miles.

"That bitch! God, I hate her!" He threw his phone against the dash. "She’s still making my life miserable!"

Tiffany had overheard enough that her face had gone pale. She didn’t even pick up his phone, which had ricocheted and hit her before landing at her feet. "How does she know?"

"She doesn’t know. She can’t hurt us. Even if she gets the police involved, they won’t be able to prove anything. All I have to do is fight fire with fire."

Tiffany’s eyes were as round as silver dollars. "What does that mean?"

"Don’t worry." He breathed in through his nose, held the air, then let it go, twice, and soon a steely calm came over him. "I’ve gone up against my mother in the past, and I’ve won every time. Bottom line, I’m better at eliciting sympathy than she is. And these days, the poor child is always right." If she gave him any trouble, he’d claim she was out to get him–and he’d be able to show a documented history of it.

Chapter 30

The Simpsons weren’t in the room when Zoe and Jonathan arrived at the hospital. A nurse stopped them at the entrance to the intensive care unit and asked their names. Then she placed a call before giving them clearance to go in.

The blinds were open, admitting the sun, and there was a radio playing, as if Toby’s parents didn’t want him left in silence. The flowers on the bedside table created a cheerful effect, but from what Zoe could tell, Toby’s condition hadn’t improved.

It was painful for her to see the boy still lying in the same bed, hooked up to the same machines, because every day he remained in this state made it less likely he’d ever come out of it. But at least the Simpsons knew where their son was. There had to be some small measure of comfort in that, in knowing Master couldn’t hurt him anymore.

"You’re one hell of a bastard, Master," she muttered under her breath as she took the boy’s hand.

Jonathan stood at her elbow. He tried to put his arm around her, to show her some support, she supposed. But she avoided his touch by crowding closer to the bed. She couldn’t let herself lean on him again; she knew where it would lead. Memories of last night intruded almost every time she looked at him. Commitment or no commitment, their lovemaking had possessed a spiritual dimension she’d never experienced with anyone else.