Blood and Fire (McClouds & Friends #8)(91)

“Thank you for everything,” Lily said.

But they weren’t listening. Val had swept Tam into his protective embrace and was murmuring to her in some language Bruno couldn’t place. She smothered laughter behind her hand. Every gesture, every smile and glance created a bubble of intimacy around them. A magic private space, where both of them felt safe.

He’d never even been aware of such a thing before.

And all of a sudden, here he was, envious of it.





20


The spiral staircase dumped them into a room that under any other circumstances would





have blown his mind. Octagonal, with big triangular windows in each side, each with a different amazing view in the daytime. Gleaming wood paneling, a grouping of chairs and couches around a coffee table and a flat-screen TV, luxurious and understated and comfortable. A wrought-iron spiral staircase led up to a loft bed.

He went to the window, stared out into the night. The moon was peeking through a hole in the clouds, illuminating the undulating patterns of glowing white foam spread across the huge beach far below.

Lily wrapped her arm around his waist. “Want to talk about it?”

“No.” It snapped out. Not what he wanted to say. It was just hardwired in there, popping out to shove away intruders. Like an alarm system, buzzing when it was breached. He could hear the gears grind as Lily tried to puzzle out how to manage him. Didn’t envy her the task. He couldn’t manage his own self. Why should she have more luck?

“I never knew my own mother,” she said.

Aw, Christ. He was in for it now. He clenched his teeth. “No?”

“She and my father tried for years to get pregnant. That was in the early days of fertility medicine. My dad did research in it, like I told you. My mom did seven cycles of IVF before they conceived me.”

“Yay,” he muttered. “Glad she did.”

Her arm tightened around his waist. “Sweet of you to say so,” she said. “They were, too. At first.”

She paused, gathering her thoughts. Bruno wanted to scream. If it was going to hurt, he wanted to power through it. “Let’s have it.”

“Have what?”

“The zinger,” he said. “Tonight’s all about the zingers, one after another, straight to the liver. Whatever you’re going to zing me with, have at it. Please. Get it over with.”

She stiffened, turning away. “Never mind. You’re right. Now’s not the time for this conversation.”

He spun her around to face him. “No, really,” he said. “It’s the only time we’ve got. Just tell me, goddamnit. I want to hear it.”

“She died,” Lily said. “In labor. A big blood vessel had formed across her cervix. She hemorrhaged. Bled out in a couple of minutes. If they’d done an early C-section, she’d have lived. But they didn’t know.”

He pulled her closer, nuzzled her hair. It smelled like lavender.

“My father felt guilty all my life,” she said. “If he hadn’t moved heaven and earth to get her pregnant . . .” She shrugged. “I felt guilty, too. I know it’s stupid, but there it is.”

They swayed, locked together, as he tried to take in what she was trying to tell him. “It’s not the same,” he said. “You were a baby. Your parents made their decisions and took the risk. Both of them.”

“So did Magda. How is it different?” Her voice was muffled against his shirt. “She must have been hell on wheels.”

“Oh, yeah. That, she was.” Laughter shook him, the tight, high-frequency kind of laughter that could all too suddenly turn into tears.

“She must have loved you so much,” Lily whispered.

“I wish she’d loved me less,” he blurted.

“Oh, baby.” Her voice was fogged up. “Don’t say that.”

“All these years . . .” His voice was blocked by a hot, aching lump in his throat. “It never made sense, that a woman like her would . . . aw, shit. She was special, you know? Having me messed up her life, but she never complained. Her own mother gave her no end of hell. Grandma Pina, raving superbitch. Rosa and Tony didn’t speak to Pina for thirty years because of that. But Mamma was beautiful. Smart. Not a doormat. She was the opposite of a doormat. Kind of like you.”

The sound she made was half laugh, half sob. “Thank you.”

He pushed on. “She was tough, you know? I couldn’t understand why she took it. The way Rudy talked down to her, the way he hit her. And being intimate with him, oh, Christ.” He blew out a breath, as if he were trying to expel toxic gas. “Now I get it. And I can’t take it.”

“Bruno,” she whispered. “Sweetie. It’s not—”

“It makes me want to vomit,” he burst out. “I’d rather it was that she was stupid about men, or she had self-esteem issues. Or that she was lonely, or that any man was better than being alone. But doing it for me? Oh, Jesus. That’s a gift I don’t want. That’s a curse, not a gift.”

Lily grabbed his hands. Her eyes blazed. “I’d do it,” she said. “If I were her, and you were my son? Hell, yes. I’d do it for you.”

“Don’t even say it. She shouldn’t have had to do that. No one should ever have to. Someone should have helped her. Saved her.”