Glitter Baby (Wynette, Texas #3)(61)
“It must be your mission in life to break the hearts of the Savagar women,” she said. “I understand a rebel spirit, and I knew from the beginning that I wasn’t special enough for you. But Fleur is. Don’t you see that? The two of you belong together, and you’re breaking her heart.”
Fleur dug her fingernails into her palms.
Jake pulled away from her. “Don’t do this.”
“I sent her to you!” she exclaimed. “I sent her to you, and now you’re violating my trust.”
“Trust! You sent her to me to save five minutes of film that you didn’t want to end up on the cutting room floor. Five minutes of your precious Glitter Baby’s career. Fuck my daughter, Koranda, so Baby can save her career. That’s what you told me.”
Fleur’s stomach pitched.
“Don’t be so sanctimonious,” Belinda hissed. “I saved your picture.”
“The picture wasn’t in that much danger.”
“That’s not how it looked to me. I did what I had to.”
“Yeah, right. You dropped your daughter on my doorstep for Mommy’s magic bedroom cure. Tell me something, Belinda. Is this going to be the pattern with you? Trying out your daughter’s lovers first? Auditioning them to make sure they meet your standards before you let them into Baby’s bed?”
The room reeled around her.
Jake’s contempt scorched the air. “What the hell kind of woman are you?”
“I’m a woman who loves her daughter.”
“Bullshit. You don’t even know your daughter. The only person you love is yourself.” He spun around and came face-to-face with Fleur’s reflection in the mirror.
Fleur couldn’t move. The pain in her chest twisted like some terrible beast, stealing her breath and turning the world black and ugly.
Jake was beside her in an instant. “Flower…”
Belinda let out a soft sharp gasp. “Oh my God. My baby.” She ran to Fleur and grabbed her arms. “It’s all right, baby.”
Tears rolled down Fleur’s cheeks. She pushed them away and stepped backward—jerky and awkward, trying to escape the awful beast clawing at her. “Don’t touch me. Don’t either of you touch me!”
Belinda’s face twisted. “Baby…Let me explain. I had to help you. I had to…Don’t you see? You could have ruined it for us—your career, all our plans, our dreams. You’re a celebrity now. The rules are different for you. Don’t you see that?”
“Shut up!” Fleur cried. “You’re filthy. Both of you.”
“Please, baby…”
Fleur drew back her hand and slapped her mother as hard as she could. Belinda cried out and stumbled backward.
“Fleur!” Jake rushed toward her.
She clenched her teeth and let out the snarl of a feral animal. “Stay away!”
“Listen to me, Fleur.” He reached for her, and she went wild, swinging at him, screaming at him, kicking him, killing him…Oh God, kill him. He tried to catch her arms, but she broke away and ran from the room, down the stairs. Dozens of startled faces stared at her as she raced through the foyer and out the door.
A driving downpour lashed at her. She wished it were ice, hard slivers of ice that would cut her up and slice her into tiny pieces of flesh and bone small enough to be washed away. She pulled up her wet skirt and raced down the curved driveway. The straps of the sandals bit into her feet and the soles slid on the wet blacktop, but she didn’t slow down. She cut across the grass and ran for the gates.
She heard him behind her, calling her name over the rain, and she ran faster. Her hair stuck to her cheeks. He cursed, and the sound of pounding feet grew louder. He caught her by the shoulder and threw her off balance. She tripped on the wet silk, and they fell together, just as they had that very first time in front of the farmhouse.
“Stop it, Flower. Please, stop.” He pulled her to him and held her tight there on the rain-soaked ground. His fingers tangled in her wet hair, and his breathing was rough and uneven. “You can’t go off like this. Let me take you home. Let me explain.”
She’d believed he’d wanted her that night. The little oatmeal string dress and the flesh-colored slip and the shining gold hoops that had swung from her ears…All of it had been chosen by Belinda. Her mother had sent her to him in costume. “Get your hands off me!”
He tightened his grip and turned her so she was facing him. His jacket was soaked and mud-streaked. Rivulets of rainwater ran down the slopes of his face. “Listen to me. What you heard wasn’t the whole story.”
She barred her teeth. “Were you my mother’s lover?”
“No…” He dragged his thumbs over her cheeks. “She came to my room, but I stopped. I didn’t—”
“She wrote that note! She sent me to you so you could make love to me!”
“Yes. But what happened that night was only between you and me.”
“You shit!” She swung at him with her fist. “Don’t try to tell me you took me to bed because you fell in love with me!”
He caught her wrists. “Flower, there are different kinds of love. I care about you. I—”
“Shut up!” She tried to punch him again. “I loved you! I loved you with every part of me, and I don’t want to hear any of your shit. Let me go!”
Susan Elizabeth Phil's Books
- Susan Elizabeth Phillips
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- The Great Escape (Wynette, Texas #7)
- Match Me If You Can (Chicago Stars #6)
- Lady Be Good (Wynette, Texas #2)
- Kiss an Angel
- It Had to Be You (Chicago Stars #1)
- Heroes Are My Weakness
- Heaven, Texas (Chicago Stars #2)
- Fancy Pants (Wynette, Texas #1)