Page 23 of Violet

“Your mother is a piece of work, Violet. And as for your sister, she was just a kid when she left. Maybe you should try putting your trust in her now.”

“No way.” Not after all those times I called Gwinnie, whispering ‘pick up, pick up, pick up,’ only to have it go to voicemail. All those holidays while I waited downstairs, hoping she’d come home, only to be disappointed—again. And then came that final day, the one when my mother finally told me the real reason I never saw my sister. She wanted nothing to do with me.

“It’s about time you started trusting other people, Violet.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. I’m glad I could be there for you for the past year.” Violet pats my hand. “But, dear, I’m not going to be around forever.”

“Don’t say that!” I protest, a lump forming in my throat.

“It’s the truth. I’ve lived a long and happy life. It’s about time that you lived yours.”

Chapter 10

Liam

“There you are.” Bert joins me as I finish my eighth bicep curl with the three hundred pound weight.

“Don’t you have somewhere better to be?” I snap. You know, instead of owning up and apologizing.

“Hey, I’m just here to work out.” Bert raises his hands in surrender and heads toward the wall of dumbbells. He grabs a medium-sized one—a two hundred pound, I’d say, though the vampire could easily handle more—before taking the bench next to mine.

“Whatever.” I growl, showing teeth. Bert ignores me and focuses on his dumbbell.

I growl again, then give up and go back to lifting weights. Except with every grunt—with every fucking inhale—I see her face. Her wrinkles. Her thinning gray hair. Her cat-eye glasses. The horror in her eyes when she saw me. Her troll mate.

“Only good thing that happened today is that I found this place.” I grunt.

At least I can finally let loose in a gym built for supes. And Fit in a Spell is definitely built for supes! Dumbbells that go past two hundred, bench presses that might actually pose a challenge, spells to keep the equipment from breaking. The place is troll heaven.

Not that my usual gym in Scarborough is all bad. At least membership’s cheap, and it keeps me from breaking any more of Gran’s floorboards. Still, their equipment’s so flimsy, what I do barely even counts as a workout. What kind of gym doesn’t go past a hundred and sixty pound dumbbells? Or kettlebells that a lesser supe could lift with one finger? I’m surprised I didn’t lose all my muscle mass since I moved back to Silver Springs. And if I’d gone there today, I’d probably max out my Unintentional Use of Strength Insurance policy.

“Erm, Liam...” Bert lowers his voice and looks around, making sure the wolf shifter at the front desk isn’t listening.

I switch my weight to my left hand and wait for him to chew me out for losing my temper at the library. Or to bring up my older-than-Gran mate.

“There’s something you should know,” he says instead.

“What?” I growl. His tone suggests it’s bad news, but how much worse could things get? Apparently, a lot worse.

“Not so loud,” he hisses. His eyes dart around wildly, like someone could be watching. Then, when he’s absolutely sure the coast is clear, he lowers his voice even further and whispers, “Rumor has it this place is owned by the mafia.”

“The what?” I bark, while Bert’s eyes widen in panic. I almost think my partner’s playing a practical joke, except Bert is way too old—and uptight—for that.

“Are you sure?” I ask anyway.

Bert nods.

I look at the gym with new eyes, or more specifically at the dark-haired, olive-skinned wolf manning the front desk. The one who has a scowl on his face and a scar running across his right cheek.

“Oh hell.” I slam my dumbbell back onto the rack—which doesn’t collapse, small miracles—and stand up. “I knew it was too good to be true.”

“Where are you going?” Bert shouts after me as I storm across the gym. “Liam?”

“To get my stuff.” I push into the locker room with a growl. “And I really liked this place, too.”

“Wait.” Bert zooms around at vampire speed, checking all the stalls. Not that there’s anyone around, since the place just opened. Most people don’t even know it’s here. I didn’t.