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“I had to put them in separate rooms,” Pat said. “I couldn’t get either one of them to rest otherwise.”
“Be careful,” I said as Anson started chest compressions. He was so big. So powerful, I was afraid he might crush her.
Behind me, a thud shook the house. Somehow, my father had dragged himself up and staggered into the room. He dropped to his knees as he saw Anson giving Mom CPR.
“Neve,” he said.
“Get him,” Anson said. “He needs to be close to her.”
I scrambled to my father’s side. Even in his weakened state, he was so heavy. I dragged him to my mother, laying him beside her. He rolled to his side and lifted a hand, pressing it to her cheeks.
Finally, my mother sucked in air with such force, her whole body arched backward.
“Thank God,” Pat said.
“Get them on the bed,” Anson said. He went to my father’s head, hooked his arms around my father’s torso, and lifted him onto the bed.
My mother didn’t feel like she weighed even a hundred pounds as I carefully picked her up and laid her beside my father.
“Hang on,” I said to both of them. “You don’t have my permission to die. Got it? I’m going to get help. I’m going to figure out what’s wrong.”
“Tem,” my father croaked. “You shouldn’t have come. It’s not safe here.”
“Save your strength,” I said. “We’ll talk later.”
Behind me, Pat leaned against the doorframe. She didn’t look well herself.
“Thank God you came when you did,” she whispered.
“We need to talk,” Anson said. His voice boomed, vibrating off the walls and the floorboards.
“We’ve talked enough,” I said.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Pat said. “Your parents need peace and quiet. Fight downstairs if you have to. I’ll run some broth up in a bit and see if I can get either of them to eat. Your brother too.”
I glared at Anson. If I could have incinerated him with a look, I think I would have. But he flat out wasn’t moving.
“Let’s go,” he said.
“You don’t order me around,” I said. “This is my house.”
I brushed past him and went downstairs. Anson stayed on my heels. When I reached Pat’s front parlor, I whipped around and faced him.
“I don’t want you here,” I said.
“She does,” he said. “Last time I checked, this was Pat’s house, not yours. If she wants me to leave, I’ll go. But she’s not asking.”
“She doesn’t know what you are,” I said. “She doesn’t know what you’ve done to me.”
“Tem…”
“Was it fun for you?” I asked. “Did you enjoy making a fool out of me? You used me, Anson. Took me against my will.”
“There was nothing we did together you didn't want,” he said, not letting his voice rise above a whisper.
“You lied to me!” I said. “You lured me to the Club. It was a trap. You planted that intel I had about my brother, didn’t you? Turk was working for you the whole time. God…did you lure Jarred there, too? Get him hooked on that crap and in Turk’s crosshairs? It was all for your own pleasure and amusement. I’ve been nothing more than sport to you.”
His face turned to stone. Once again, his features shimmered between the man I knew as X, and Anson. It stirred me. Infuriated me. If I killed him here and now, would he haunt me still? Was it worth taking the chance?
