Sweet Liar (Candy #2)(61)

When I closed the cabinet, Victor’s dark, angry glare flashed in my mind, and the tube of ointment dropped from my hand, clattering into the sink. My eyes shut, and I sucked in a deep breath. I would never forget how terrified I was in that moment. It felt like the darkness was swallowing me, and the hope that drove me for so long was just a waste of time. Then Jonah renewed that hope and everything changed again.

Wanting to give Jonah time with his mother, I waited until my breathing evened out, and then I combed through my hair with my fingers and splashed some water on my face before I opened the door and ventured out.

When I walked into the living room, Jonah’s eyes were red. It looked as if he was trying not to cry, and my chest squeezed at seeing so much emotion coming from him.

“Sorry,” I muttered when they both looked at me. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You’re not interrupting,” Jonah said, his tone weary. The sharp edge of anger on his face was absent.

Slowly, I approached them and saw the tears streaming down Lorraine’s cheeks.

Jonah’s gaze traveled between Lorraine and me. “Tell me how you knew where she was,” he said to me.

I looked curiously at Lorraine.

“I told him why I left,” she explained. “I haven’t told him how yet.”

I swallowed, wondering if she’d purposely left that part out. Jonah’s irritation was sure to resurface once he knew.

When I said nothing, not wanting to hurt Jonah more, she understood it was up to her and took a deep breath first. “It was Candy’s father. He helped me.”

Jonah’s brows knitted together.

“I had nothing,” she hastened to add, “and I didn’t know if your father would come after me. Sebastian found this house for me. He gave me the courage to leave, and he gave me a place to go.”

“This is his house?” Jonah’s sympathy dissipated.

Lorraine stiffened slightly at his tone.

“Rented by him under an alias for your mother,” I said.

“Why would he rent a house for you?” Jonah asked accusingly.

I recognized the suspicion clouding his eyes because I’d felt it too when I first discovered the situation. It was seeing what my father had hidden in the safe that reassured me. If Jonah was going to understand, he needed to see it too. He needed to know everything. After the way he’d saved me from his father, I thought he deserved to know.

“Where’s the safe?” I asked Lorraine.

It took her a moment to look away from her son and register my question. Her hesitance was obvious.

“If we want him to trust us, we have to trust him.”

She was silent for a beat before she slowly stood. “I’ll go get it.”

When she left the room, Jonah stayed on the couch, but his face was pale and his eyes wide as he turned to me. “The safe is here?”

I nodded, watching his expression change, understanding how hard this must be for him.

He shook his head. “My mother has been hiding it for your father the whole time?”

“It’s not what you think. Just wait, okay?” The blood from his wound was darker now, caking along his hairline as it dried. “Let me clean that for you.” I reached for the gauze.

He pushed my hand away. “Forget that. Tell me how long you’ve known my mother was here.”

I sighed and sat down. “Remember when I spoke to my father on the phone and he asked me to make those enchiladas?”

Jonah nodded.

“He’d written Lorraine’s address on that page in the recipe book. I met her for the first time that night.”

His eyes widened. “You’ve know since then? You’ve known everything she just told me? I guess you can keep a secret too. Can’t you?”

“I had to.”

He clenched his jaw. “So did I.”

“I know,” I said quietly.

Jonah asked no more questions after that. His gaze drifted away from mine as he seemed to process everything I’d told him. When I asked him again if I could take a look at the cut on his head, he reluctantly agreed and let me lead him into the bathroom where the light was better.

When we walked in, I noticed Pumpkin had decided to camp out in Lorraine’s bathtub. Since there was no litter box here, I figured it was as good a place as any.

“Hope your mom doesn’t mind,” I said, pointing at the tub, seeing if he’d smile at the sight of Pumpkin, and wanting him to.

He didn’t. He just sat down and looked at me.

As I gently cleaned away the blood, I discovered the cut on Jonah’s head wasn’t deep. I was wiping down the skin near his scar when he reached up and traced the tip of his index finger over it. “Did she tell you how I got this?”

I nodded. “She has a lot of guilt about it.”

He seemed surprised at that, as if he hadn’t expected her to admit to it or say she regretted it.

“Did you tell her what happened tonight?” I asked.

Jonah swallowed first and nodded. When I glanced down, he was looking hard at my neck.

“I never should have opened the door to him tonight,” he said, and reached up to lightly brush his fingers over the bruises. “I’d apologize again, but you must be so sick of hearing it. It’s pathetic of me to think the word sorry could make up for what he did, what I let him do to you.”