Her First Mistake Carey Baldwin (ereader with dictionary TXT) 📖

He’ll never hurt you again, Mommy.

“She pawned her bracelet and then what happened?”

“Emily wrote down her name on the pawn ticket. She didn’t have an address, but she told me how to find that cabin of hers, and I promised to drop by. That night, I took her some groceries and beer, and we started up from there. I swear I didn’t know she had a kid locked in a shed. If I had, I would’ve beaten the crap out of her.”

The wind was like silk caressing her face. “I’m ready to go, now. I think I can make it.”

He stood—his legs shaky. The journey had taken a toll on him, too, and it showed. He offered her his hand.

She got on her knees and then planted both hands in front of her, pushed off the ground and climbed to her feet on her own. Never again would she let him touch her—at least not of her own free will.

“That’s my good girl.”

Not even close.

“Where was I?”

The trees were just a few yards ahead, but Arnie was talking.

She was going to learn the whole truth, no matter the cost. “You started up with my mother.”

“At first, Emily was mostly sober around me, tried to put her best foot forward and all. But she was a hopeless alcoholic and couldn’t hide it forever. I hate a boozer, but there was a silver lining: when she got drunk enough, she’d go along with a little kink. Life was good. My business was taking off. I had my precious Alma. We’d just gotten engaged—I loved her so much I didn’t mind her baggage.”

You monster.

“Celeste was the baggage?”

“Yeah. But I still gave her everything the same as I did my blood. But we were talking about Emily. I guess she didn’t see things the same way I did. She was suffering from the delusion I was her boyfriend, and that we were going to be together forever. White picket fence, the whole nine yards. But that last weekend, while I was sleeping, she went through my wallet and found a picture of Celeste and another of the three of us, Alma, Celeste and me—with Alma showing off her new diamond ring. Emily took the photos to use against me as proof I’d been with her. She said she was going to show them to Alma, tell her all about me, unless I came clean and left Alma on my own.” He stopped and gaped at her. “You believe that? Me leave my fiancée for a drunken, beat-down whore like your mother? Anyway, I pried the one family picture out of her hands, but I never knew what happened to the other until you brought that old chest to my house.”

They arrived at the trees.

“Careful, watch your step.” He reached for her hand again.

She recoiled.

“Fine, but keep up or its back to dragging. I’m gonna put my hands on you sooner or later, regardless—I don’t do guns or knives anymore.”

“Too much evidence?” He was so cold she’d need an ice pick to open his veins.

“Hands are much cleaner—more work, but worth it in the end. I used a steak knife on your mother, and you don’t want to know the problems that caused me. I learned my lesson after that—strangle ’em—leave no trace. You want your mother? I’ll show you where I buried her.”

She stumbled forward, then halted in her tracks. To her right, the ground was grassless, smooth except for leaves, blowing across a long swath of newly turned earth.

A fresh grave.

Thank God her stomach was empty.

“Not there. That’s Celeste and Keisha.”

Her feet froze. “Keisha?”

“She was supposed to have my back. I’ve greased her palm enough times to get me a good table or arrange a special treat for a lady. And I paid her well to erase the security footage that showed me with an escort at the restaurant that night. Then she tells you she made a backup? I knew right then, she had to go.”

“You heard that? When did you put the bug in my purse?”

“The first time you came to dinner. I’ve been getting an earful since then. The blackmail, the therapy, the conversations with your aunt.” He sent her a mean smile. “Anyway, Keisha, Celeste, all you ladies brought this on yourselves. Your mother tried to ruin my marriage. Celeste spied on me—the father who adopted her and gave her everything. Keisha said she’d made backup footage, which could’ve created all kinds of problems for me if true—with Alma and with the cops. And you, Mia, you simply wouldn’t heed my many, many warnings to stay away. When Alma showed you that photo album this morning, I knew then, it was over. She was getting so sentimental with you, I saw that a real bond was developing between you both, and I simply couldn’t allow that to happen. It was far too risky. I either had to scare you off or else I had to make her want you gone for good. The only way to accomplish that was to show her what you did to Celeste.”

“That’s the reason you left the real keys out for Angelica to find. You knew she’d show the family and Alma would hate me for hurting Celeste.”

“If I had let Alma get any more attached to you, sooner or later she was bound to slip up.”

Her head felt fuzzy, and her ears were ringing. She must have heard him wrong. “Slip up how? Are you saying Alma knows about Celeste?”

“Alma would murder me in my sleep if she did. But she sure as shit knows about your mother—and she’s made all our lives hell trying to atone for my sins with her charity work. I should never have told her about Emily, but she got the truth out of me when I came home bloodied up. No one can ever say I don’t love that