Wilde at Heart (Wilde Security, #3)(60)

“Oh, honey. What’s wrong?” She walked forward, arms outstretched, but Shelby ducked out of her reach.

“Don’t.” Her voice broke, and she hated herself for not being stronger when it came to this woman. “I’m sorry. You need to leave.”

“What?”

“I made a mistake. You can’t stay.”

“You’re kicking me out onto the street?” Outrage flushed her cheeks with much-needed color. “I am your mother!”

“I know. I know. And I’ll give you money for a hotel, enough for a few nights, but you… you just can’t stay here.”

“Oh. I see. You married money, so suddenly you’re too good for me now?”

Shelby flinched. “That’s not it. I—”

“Fine.” Katrina crossed her arms over her chest. “I see how it is. Get me my money and I’ll leave you alone.”

And there it was. Katrina’s real motive. Her sudden appearance here had nothing to do with wanting to see her daughter and everything to do with money. She’d found out Shelby had married a well-off man and decided she deserved a piece of the pie by virtue of a shared biology.

Really, it had only been a matter of time until this happened.

Shelby held up her hands. “Don’t move. Don’t touch anything. I’ll be right back.” Afraid to leave her mother alone for too long, she ran into her bedroom for her purse. She had a couple hundred dollars in her wallet and it was pretty much all she had to her name at this point, but whatever. If it kept Katrina away, she’d pay it. She threw her wallet on her bed and started to turn, cash in hand—and broke into a run when she heard a thunk from the room next door.

Reece’s office.

Katrina was rifling through Reece’s desk like her life depended on it.

“What are you doing?” Shelby lurched forward, but stopped short when Katrina pulled a gun and pointed it at her. “Mom!”

“You are not leaving me out on the streets to rot, you ungrateful little bitch,” Katrina said through her teeth, spittle flying. She stuffed a box of blank checks in her purse, along with Reece’s laptop and a bunch of notebooks, then motioned to the right with her gun. “Move outta my way.”

Hands held up, Shelby did as she was told, stepping back into the hallway. “Mom, please don’t do this.”

Her pleas fell on deaf ears. But then, she’d known they would. Still, she had to try.

Katrina kept the gun raised as she edged out of the room. On the way, she snatched the few hundred dollars still clutched in Shelby’s hand. “Give me your ring too.”

Dropping her hands, she protectively cradled her wedding ring. “It’s not worth anything.”

“You’re lying!” The gun bobbled dangerously, and her finger was on the trigger. It could go off at any second.

Shelby swallowed to ease the ache in her throat and took off the ring, shoved it into her mother’s hand. “Okay, okay. Take it. Just, please, leave those notebooks here.” The loss of them so close on the heels of the loss of his parents’ house would break Reece’s heart. “They’re not worth anything.”

“If that’s true, you wouldn’t want them so much.”

“Just sentimental value. I swear, that’s all.”

“Lying again. Why are you girls always lying to me?” Katrina demanded, drug-fueled anger twisting her dainty features into something ugly and feral. She waved the gun again, and Shelby flinched expecting it to discharge.

“Mom.” Her voice came out as little more than a squeak. “Put the gun down. You have everything you want. Just put the gun down and leave.”

“Oh, I have everything I want? How about daughters who love me and take care of me like real daughters should? I don’t have that. Instead, all my good babies got taken away from me, and I got left with two ungrateful little bitches who’d rather have their mom live on the streets. I brought you into this world! You owe me this! You. Owe. Me. Everything.” She backed down the hallway until she reached the living room, then spun on her heel and ran.

Shelby didn’t dare move. Katrina had been known to fly into irrational rages while on cocaine, and she was sure that was the drug pumping through her mother’s veins right now. Katrina liked it all, dabbled in everything, but mostly flipped between coke and heroin depending on her mood. The former made her manic, paranoid, delusional. The latter put her to sleep, which had always been the more preferable of the two. The last time she was hyped up on coke, she’d hit Shelby hard enough to give her a concussion. This time…Shelby truly feared her mother might shoot her if she tried to intervene. So she waited, flinching at each crash from the living room, until finally she heard nothing but a resounding silence.

Oh. God.

She exhaled the breath she’d been holding and bent double, hugging herself, trying to breath and keep it together. A molten weight settled in her stomach, and her eyes burned, but she was too damned exhausted by it all to cry.

How many times had Eva warned her their mother would never change? And instead of accepting it as a fact, she kept letting Katrina back in to destroy her heart, over and over. Every time was like slicing open old wounds and pouring salt into them. Must be she secretly enjoyed the pain, was as addicted to it as Katrina was to drugs. Why else would any sane human being continually put themselves through this?