Reign (The Sainthood - Boys of Lowell High #3)(69)

“I only said she was queen of my cock,” Caz adds. “It’s not like I told you about the time she—”

I swivel in my chair, the leather squelching in the process, pinning Caz with a lethal look. “Say one more word and I will follow through on my cockblocking threat. Don’t fucking push me.”

Caz grins, and I flip him the bird. Asshole was winding me up. At least it distracted me from worrying about Mom.

We make it onto the road in time, spotting Mom’s car in the distance. Bry keeps pace with her, staying far enough back that she doesn’t suspect she’s being followed. It helps that she doesn’t know or recognize Bry’s truck.

“Switch your phone on,” Caz says, lifting his head from his cell. “Saint’s been trying to reach you.”

I power up my cell, spotting the missed calls from Saint and Diesel. I return Saint’s call first.

“You okay?” are the first words out of his mouth when the call connects.

I roll my eyes and count to ten in my head. “I’m fine.” My tone is clipped. “What is it?”

“Granddad called me when he couldn’t get you to let us know your mom left her cell with the tracker behind at the house. She also figured out Lincoln was tailing her, and she managed to ditch him.”

I’m glad we left when we did, or we would’ve lost her. “I don’t have a good feeling about this,” I admit as the tiny hairs lift on the back of my neck. “She wanted to ensure no one knew where she was. Why?”

“I don’t know, but we’ll find out soon enough. You should answer the pervert. He’s worried about you.”

“I’ll text him. See you soon.” I end the call and type out a brief message to Diesel letting him know I’m okay and I’ll call him later. Then I power off the cell and repocket it.

We trail Mom to the center of Lowell, watching as she parks in the main parking garage in town and hops out with her car keys dangling from her fingers and one hand firmly holding the strap of her bag. Bry kills the engine, and we exit the truck where Bry parked it at the curb across the road, following Mom from a safe distance.

She strides with confidence toward one of the most popular Italian restaurants in the square. We hang back behind the giant water feature in the center of the square, watching surreptitiously as she enters the restaurant and is led to a table at the front by the window. We have a front-row seat as Sinner stands to greet her, clasping her cheeks in his large palms and kissing her on the lips.

Rage swirls in my gut, and my fingers itch to pull out my gun and riddle his body with bullets through the glass.

Caz maneuvers behind me, linking his pinkie with mine, and it helps to calm me down.

We watch as Mom sits down across from the bastard, setting her purse in her lap. A waitress pours red wine in her glass, and she takes a large gulp as Sinner leans across the table, talking to her while she drinks.

“I wish we could hear what they’re saying,” I mutter, growing more and more uneasy. Something is off, and pressure weighs on my chest, mixing with the knotted balls in my stomach, accelerating my anxiety to epic levels.

I’m furious at Mom—for a lot of things—but she’s the only parent I have left, and I don’t want anything to happen to her.

The longer they sit across from one another, the more the bad feeling grows in my gut, until I’m wound so tight, I’m in danger of snapping.

Caz senses my mood, wrapping his hand around mine and squeezing.

Mom doesn’t even look at the menu, allowing Sinner to order for her when the waitress reappears. By the way she’s knocking back wine and clutching her purse tight, I can tell she’s on edge, and that’s not helping my anxiety.

I jerk my head around at the sound of approaching footfalls, my anxiety dipping a little when I see the cavalry coming toward us.

“What’s going on?” Saint asks, shoving Bry out of the way so he can flank me on my other side. Bry snarls, gnashing his teeth. Saint ignores him, focusing on me.

“They’ve just ordered,” I explain, keeping my eyes on their table. “And now your dad is trying to take her hand across the table, but she’s having none of it.” If I wasn’t so anxious, that’d raise a smile.

Sinner’s loving look fades as he yanks his hand back, narrowing his eyes at Mom. She smiles, loosening the death hold on her purse and setting her wineglass down. Sinner’s nostrils flare as she speaks, and it’s clear he doesn’t like what she’s saying.

I watch, in horror, as she unzips her purse, removing a gun. My heart slams behind my rib cage, and panic lurches up my throat when she stands, pointing the gun at his face.

In the middle of a packed restaurant on a busy Saturday night.

With tons of innocent bystanders and witnesses around.

“Fuck.” Galen drags a hand through his hair. “What the hell is she doing?”

“I think that’s obvious,” Theo murmurs.

It’s clear Mom has reached a breaking point. That the gang rape has messed her up more than I thought. Tightness spreads across my chest, and I watch the scene unfold as if I’m not here. I’m floating on a cloud overhead, watching Mom walk around the table and press the gun into Sinner’s forehead. His palms are raised, and he actually looks scared. Mom’s mouth flies as she shouts at him.