Going Down in Flames (Going Down in Flames #1)(88)

“I suppose your parents’ miniscule apartment has warmth?”

“My parents’ apartment is small but cozy.”

“I’ve always thought of cozy as a synonym for shabby.” Ferrin sniffed. “Perhaps you’re too ignorant to know the difference.”

Did he expect her to lose control? She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “Insult me all you like. I’m not here to spar with you. I won’t sink to your level.”

Ferrin placed both hands on the table and leaned toward her. “You’ve no idea what waits for you when you speak before the Directorate.”

“I’m sure the theme of the day will be ‘blame-the-victim’.”

“You’re smarter than I thought.” He straightened and faced his son. “Remember who you represent.” With that final command, he left the room.

Bryn congratulated herself on not losing her temper. In honor of her self-control, she decided to reward herself with chocolate. She reached into her book bag for the candy bars Clint packed. Her hand closed around a cold, hard object. It was the silver pen Zavien had given her the first night they’d spoken.

She’d tossed it into her bag and forgotten about it. It was comforting to know he could find her. Dropping the pen back into the bag, she fished around for candy bars. After choosing a chocolate almond bar, she held the others out to Jaxon. “Want one?”

He acted like she’d offered him a venomous snake. “Why are you offering me candy?”

Good question. Maybe it was because compared to his father, he didn’t seem quite so evil. She shrugged. “I didn’t want to be rude.”

Bryn tore open the wrapper and took a bite. Nuts and chocolate combined in a sweet and salty blend of pure bliss. If the Directorate denied her petition to become a medic, maybe she’d become a chocolatier.

Jaxon rubbed his temples. “Don’t bother being nice to me. It won’t change things.”

And now they were down to the crux of it. “I know you were raised to hate me, but I wasn’t raised to hate anyone. If you didn’t constantly insult me, I wouldn’t feel the need to fight back.”

Frowning, Jaxon stared at his paper. He scratched out a few answers. Without looking up, he said, “What are your parents like?”

Thinking of her parents brought a lump to her throat. “They’re loving and funny and smart. My dad threatens to shove people’s heads through walls when he’s upset. My mom is irreverent. They taught me to stand up for myself.”

She wanted to ask about his mother, but the library door opened, and a blond woman entered, appearing uncertain if her presence was allowed.

Jaxon stood and moved across the room to greet her. “Mother, how are you?”

She touched his face. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek.

That’s it? No hugs? What’s wrong with these people?

“Come sit with me.” Jaxon’s mother gestured toward the couch.

“Of course, Mother.”

Bryn tried to fade into the woodwork so she wouldn’t interrupt their weirdly formal reunion.

“The house is too quiet without you, so I bought a kitten.” The woman laughed like a child who’d gotten away with something.

“Does Father know?” Jaxon asked.

His tone of voice made Bryn fear for the cat.

“Your father ranted in his usual fashion. I told him if he could have a mistress, I could have a pet. There wasn’t much he could say to that.”

Jaxon averted his gaze. “You know?”

His mother sighed. “Of course I do. Your father isn’t as clever as he thinks.”

“I’ve felt guilty…knowing.”

“Your father never should have let you find out, but it wasn’t your place to tell me. I do hope you’ll treat Rhianna with more respect than your father has shown me.”

“Mother—”

She placed her hand on his arm. “Rhianna may not be who you would have chosen, but I expect you to treat her well. Let’s change the subject. I’m proud of what you’re doing today. The fact that you’ve stepped forward shows you’re a good man. Now, I’m sure Bryn is mortified to have heard our family business. Perhaps you should introduce us.”

Jaxon’s face colored. He spoke in a tight voice. “Bryn, would you care to join us?”

She’d rather run naked through the dining hall, but couldn’t think of a polite way to refuse. Plastering a smile on her face, she joined them by the fire.

“Hello, Mrs. Westgate. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Hello, Bryn. I’m sorry you’ve been put through such trauma. Jaxon called me after witnessing your condition. I’ve no idea what someone hoped to accomplish by poisoning you.”

“Me either.” She struggled to come up with another topic. “What type of kitten did you adopt?”

“I have a picture.” Mrs. Westgate sorted through an ornate beaded handbag. One of the items she removed was a small, blue envelope. The handwriting on the envelope was Bryn’s own looping scrawl.

Unbelievable. Mrs. Westgate had the thank you card she’d given Zavien to mail. Jaxon’s mother had paid for the extra medics.