The Peer and the Puppet (When Rivals Play, #1) (89)

“My grandparents forbade me from calling her anything but her name, hoping it would keep her sane. They didn’t realize that I was only one of her triggers. A broken heart was the other.”

A harsh sound spilled from Ever. “So you she could stay away from but not men?” Ever’s anger wasn’t a surprise but I fully expected it to be me who disgusted him.

Anyone would sympathize with a mentally ill mother who rejected her daughter. They’d say she couldn’t help it. That it wasn’t her fault. Who could sympathize with a daughter who resented her mother anyway? Why should they when even I hated myself for how I felt?

“She was a hopeless romantic long before she was a Schizophrenic.”

“That’s no excuse.”

“No, but it’s reality, and I’ve lived with it and so should you.”

I had the sudden urge to wrap myself around something strong and never let go. Ever was standing only two feet away and I knew without a doubt he’d be my pillar, my anchor, if I needed. But I also knew that if I gave in, I’d never find the courage to speak of this again.

Seemingly giving in, he sighed and said, “Where are your grandparents?”

“Rosalyn spent the first ten years of my life in and out of the hospital. She’d relapsed countless times when my grandparents finally decided to file for custody.”

“So what happened?” Ever questioned when I fell silent for too long. “Where are they?”

I closed my eyes. “They died in a car crash before they could see it through.”

Ever sucked in a breath.

“Neither of us took their deaths well, but it wasn’t just the sudden loss that made it hard. It was because Rosalyn and I both knew we were now stuck with each other. Without her, I would have been on the streets or lost in foster care, and without me, she would have eventually reached the point of no return.”

“You hid each other from a worse fate.”

I nodded. “And now that I’m eighteen, I no longer need her.” I took a deep breath hoping to feel the freedom I’ve longed for since I was ten. The feeling never came. “She still needs me, though.”

Ever blew out a breath of frustration. “You didn’t make her ill, and you didn’t put those skeletons in her closet, Four.”

I turned away because I couldn’t stand to see his pity. “Maybe not, but that doesn’t change anything. When your father breaks her heart, it will be me she stares at with tears in her eyes until she can barely stand to look at me at all. It will be me who feels the shame because I’ll be the one she regrets. God forbid he knocks her up first.”

My back was still turned to him when I felt him close in, stop, and then I heard him sigh.

“My father had a vasectomy.”

Whipping around, I found Ever’s mask in place. “What?”

“When I was four, my mother had a miscarriage. She had just found out I was going to have a sister.”

“What happened?”

“Her doctor called it an incompetent cervix. My birth had been difficult for her, and the doctors warned that conceiving again would be risky, but my mother didn’t care, and my father indulged her. They found the best doctors money could buy, but an infection caused my baby sister to die in my mother’s womb.”

“So he got the vasectomy?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he nodded. “My father wanted a large family, and my mother was distraught and ashamed. She was determined to try again or find a surrogate.”

“Why didn’t they try surrogacy?”

“Because my father didn’t want another woman carrying his child.”

I stared at him feeling both awe and envy. “They loved each other.”

“It didn’t last.”

I could only nod. My living here was evidence of his parents’ failed marriage. “I’m sorry your mother left you.” Guilt suddenly made it hard to swallow. How many times had I wished Rosalyn would just walk away? I had convinced myself that being abandoned couldn’t have hurt worse than being rejected every single day. But then I met Ever.

He cupped the side of my face. “And I’m sorry your mother couldn’t leave you.” I felt his finger wipe away I tear I hadn’t realized I shed. He was gentle and soothing, not at all the touch of a killer. It made me wonder…

“The Exiled are murderers, and you’re one of them.”

He slowly blinked, probably thrown by the sudden change in subject.

“I haven’t killed anyone, princess.”

“But if you had to…if you were forced…do you really you think you could?”

His hand fell away.

“I guess I’ll know soon enough.”

“I…I don’t want you to do this.” I was suddenly desperate, willing to give anything—do anything—to keep him from harm. “Whatever you’re looking for can’t be worth your life. If you want to be with me, promise me you’ll stay away from them.”

He went so very still while my heart screamed at me to take it back. “Why would you ask that of me?” His voice was a whisper, his question an accusation.

“Because if you’re caught, they’ll kill you. Who says Wren Harlan will keep his word? I’ve been on the business end of their mercy, Ever. They won’t hesitate.”