Page 33 of Miss Trust

“How do you do it?” I inquired, the burning question on my mind.

“Do what?”

“Stay so strong.”

She turned towards me, her expression surprised. “I don’t stay strong. I break down every single night. Then every single morning I have to build myself back up again, knowing I have no choice.”

Her admission was nearly my undoing and prompted one of my own.

“There’s never been a time in my life I haven’t been able to use money or power to get what I want.” I was struggling with the fact I had no control in this situation, and couldn’t fix this for her. Knowing her daughter would be going back into the hospital for intensive treatment made me sick to my stomach.

She shrugged, apparently unfazed by my statement. “Cancer is the great equalizer. It doesn’t care about money or power.”

“I imagine you’ve never felt so helpless.”

“You’d be surprised by the number of times I’ve felt helpless.”

“Tell me about one of them.”

A deep sigh left her lips. “You really want to know?”

More than I’d ever admit. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”

She regarded me for a moment before taking another sip from her glass. Watching her lips was quickly becoming my greatest turn-on. Oh, the things I’d love to do with her smart mouth.

“When I was seventeen and a senior in high school, I was pulled out of class and sent to the principal’s office.”

It wasn’t hard to picture the rebel teenager Tory could’ve been. “Was this a common occurrence?”

She shook her head. “Hard to believe, but no. I was determined to study hard and go to college. Anyhow, there was a woman standing in the principal’s office who looked all official. Turned out she was from Child Protective Services. My mother had been gone a few weeks, which wasn’t uncommon since she was an addict and often on a bender. But this time around, the landlord called CPS because she was already months behind on the rent. She’d left us for good.”

Her tone was flat, giving me an instant vision of what her life had been like with an addict mother. “And your father?”

“Mine died when I was three. I have faint memories of him, and things being better then. After his death is when my mom fell apart and started using heavily. Teagan’s father could’ve been any number of her boyfriends.”

“You and Teagan are half sisters?”

Her defensiveness was immediate. “We’re sisters in every way that counts.”

“I feel the same about my sister who I only share a father with. I was merely surprised. Please continue.”

“Anyhow, I was seventeen, and Teagan was thirteen, so they wouldn’t let me take care of her. I wasn’t of age for nearly an entire year. The most helpless feeling in the world is to watch your baby sister pack up her meager clothes and go with Child Protective Services to be placed in a foster home. I don’t think I slept a full night until I turned eighteen and could become her legal guardian. So yeah, I’ve done helpless before.”

There was an unfamiliar tightening of my chest at the thought of her and Teagan enduring such a horrible ordeal. One more strike against me for suspecting her sister a gold digger. “You still don’t sleep.”

She took another sip of her bourbon while I sat there, jealous of the way it lingered on her lips.

“Not even when they said it was going into remission. It’s like I didn’t believe it, and for good reason. Only a few weeks later, and we’re back to square one.”

“Her original doctors should’ve been more aggressive.” It pissed me off to think Penny might not have gotten the best care due to lack of insurance. But that was changing. I’d make damn sure the doctors did everything they could this time around.

“Agreed. Or maybe I could’ve insisted on a second opinion.” Guilt was reflected in her expression.

“You couldn’t have known.”

She expelled a long breath, taking the last drink from her glass before grabbing the monitor from the table beside her. “Yeah, maybe. How was Vegas?”

“It was fine.” I should be checking in with Carmen. I should be concerned with a busy Thursday night at the club here in Los Angeles. Instead, I was sipping bourbon with my new assistant and in no hurry to leave her.

“I should go inside,” Tory said. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow is a big day.”

“Of course.” Although it was tempting to talk her into another glass, so I could learn more about her, I knew her priority was her daughter. I had nothing but admiration for her. I couldn’t begin to imagine my mother in a situation where her child was battling a life-threatening illness. She’d use the circumstance for sympathy and probably increase her spa time to help deal with the inconvenience of it all.

As Tory stood up and walked inside, I didn’t bother averting my gaze from the curve of her ass. The sight had me downing my last gulp of bourbon.

My drink wasn’t relaxing me like it should have. Instead I felt amped up and helpless. The vision plaguing me was of a little girl who I’d had no intention of caring about, lying in her bed right now and needing more than I could ever give her. More than her mom could ever give her. For the first time since finding out about Penelope’s diagnosis, I felt the weight of what it actually meant. It was sinking in that, despite all the best care in the world, there was still a risk she might not make it. The very thought chilled me to the bone.

Christ. I had enough people in my life I had to worry about.

Of course, I didn’t waste a moment on my selfish father or vain mother. But my siblings were enough to give me gray hair.

At least Reid seemed to be coming off of my worry list. Although our relationship remained rocky, at best, I knew he was no longer making a mistake in marrying the selfish bitch who’d been willing to cheat on him with me. Then there was my sister, Kelsey. She might be my half sister, but I fully loved her. I worried about her in New York with her asshole fiancé.

What was with these emotions lately? And how the hell had I, in some way, inconceivably, annoyingly, become attached to Tory and her daughter?

Time to get back to work.