Thick & Thin (Thin Love, #3)(74)



“Do you really?” For a few seconds I didn’t hear much more than the low exhale of Aly’s breath next to me, then the bristle of feet against the rug on the studio floor. There came a quick gasp and then Cass finally spoke again. “I’d never give you a reason to doubt me, darlin’. Not ever.”

“What are you doing?”

I got to just within the threshold of the door before Aly tugged on my arm, then pulled harder when I lunged, catching sight of Cass looming over my mother, his palm against her face, his arm around her waist as he tried to kiss her.

“What you want, sugar,” that * said, leaning in as I dragged Aly behind me.

Something stuck in my gut, made my throat work and sour, a sick taste coated the back of my tongue, but before it could gain purchase, my mother stepped back, pushing against Cass and maneuvered her foot to turn, right out of his touch so that the pivot she made had her away from Cass’s reach and the dumb cowboy bumping into the wall.

“Don’t you put your f*cking hands on me, you *.” The quiet mouse, drawn and depressed that my mother had been for a solid week was suddenly gone, spurred on, it seemed, by insult and anger. “How dare you try…you must be out of your mind!”

“Keira, hold up now,” Cass started, lifting his hands, waving them as some lame attempt to pacify. “Baby…”

“Don’t you ever, and I damn well mean ever call me baby.” The idiot was thick, didn’t take her loud tone, her pinched, angry expression seriously, something Mom seemed to notice as the cowboy tried to approach again, completely ignoring me and Aly as we came fully into the room. And when Cass reached out, trying to get hold of Mom’s arm, my attempt to subdue him halted, made utterly pointless as Mom jerked back, slapping Cass’s face so hard that his pale skin welted quick and he frowned, clearly shocked at the sting she delivered.

“Get out of my house,” Mom said, stepping back, eyes cutting a cold threat in one flick of that hardened gaze. “Now.”

He seemed to cotton on quick that once pushed too far, my mother could be a rattlesnake striking, stinging so viciously that you’d find little chance at recovery. At least, I liked to think that’s akin to what Cass thought as Mom held his attention, kept it as the cowboy backed away, only stumbling back when I blocked his exit from the door. I wanted so badly to do a little chest thumping myself, to show I was as much the alpha that I knew my mother to be just so this * would catch the hint and keep it.

“Let him pass, Ransom.” Mom’s voice had returned to normal, but still held a warning I recognized.

A quick step back and I was out of his way, though I followed behind him making sure Cass retreated out of the house before that urge of mine to strike got too bad.

“Mom,” I started, stepping back into the studio, but stopped in the middle of the room when my phone rang. It took a glance to change my instinct to silence my phone when the 615 area code flashed across the screen. The few friends I had left from Nashville were named in my phone. As were Bobby’s sons, my unofficially adopted uncles, so I knew there could only be one other person from Tennessee hitting me up. The smile that moved over my mouth was quick, maybe a little worrisome but I still grinned, nodding to Mom and Aly as I hit the speaker icon. “You might wanna hear this,” I told my mother.

“Hey, Sara, how you doing? I’ve got you on speaker and Mom’s in the room. You find out anything?”

“Well shit, hey y’all. Keira, you there?”

“I’m here, honey,” Mom answered, smiling at Sara’s pleased accent. “Ransom said you did a little digging?”

“Oh hell yes, I did,” Sara answered and I sat on the console next to the soundboard, pulling Aly to my side as I held up the phone. Mom flanked my other side and the flush of color in her cheeks had paled, telling me her anger at Cass’s classless move had been forgotten as she listened to her former writing partner on the other end of the line. “And girl, you’re gonna shit. In fact, I’d be willing to bet my open toe Louboutin’s that you’ll be pulling that little shit’s contract faster than a duck on a Junebug.”

“Oh…okay,” Mom said and I got why her face had gone even paler, why she rubbed the back of her neck as though she wanted the tension there to disappear. I knew the way my mom’s mind worked—she’d brought Cass into our home. She’d been sure he was the real deal and had the talent to really make something of himself. But at what price? “Sara, tell me.”

“Well, turns out the Sony talent search did end a little different than the organizers wanted. Cass and that Aymes fella were the last two competitors in the contest. You remember Elvin Reynolds, Keira? That fat * who used to troll the Bluebird on writer’s night?”

“I do. The one always chasing after the waitresses fresh off the bus?”

“That’s right. Turns out Reynolds got himself sorted. I ran into him last week at the Hermitage. I’d heard he’d left Sony but knew he’d been there long enough to remember the last competition, definitely the gossip, nosey old thing that he is. You owe me a beer, at the very least for giving that man half an hour of my time.” Mom winced, didn’t join in with Sara’s laughter as she listened and I realized she was too anxious, too eager to hear what her friend had discovered to relax enough to joke.

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