was devastated when—”
“Poor, poor, Haley. When are you going to remove your rose-tinted glasses? If she was so perfect, why then did Elizabeth grow up in an orphanage? Why did your precious mother not do everything to get her daughter out of that shit hole? Why didn’t she visit her?” He tapped his nose as though thinking hard. “Oh, I know, she chose the booze instead.”
That was the first sign that there could be some kind of truth to what Jude was saying. I had never told him about my mother’s drinking problem. In fact, I had never told him much about my childhood, just enough. But he was an intelligent man. He could have done his research.
“Call me a liar again and I’ll tell you more.”
I looked up, my eyes and nose dripping. “You’re a fucking liar. If Elizabeth were really alive, my mother would have told me. She would have.”
“Except she didn’t, did she? Could it be that she was never sober long enough to even think straight? You know what’s funny? Elizabeth didn’t believe your mother would turn her back on her either. At sixteen, she ran away from the orphanage and followed you and your mother to Serendipity, where you both were by then. Oh, I’m sorry, I meant to keep this short.” He sighed and continued. “Elizabeth found your mother inside her favorite place, a whorehouse. She told Elizabeth she didn’t know who she was and walked away. Can you believe your sweet mother would do that? Maybe it was shame, or maybe she was literally too fucked up.” He roared with laughter, and slapped his knees.
I was trembling now, and anger boiled in my veins, anger at my mother for turning her back on Liz, and for never telling me that she was alive. I was furious with Jude not only for keeping this secret from me, but for murdering my sister. My rage gave me the strength to get up, to lunge for him. Even with handcuffed hands, I punched and clawed at his scarred face, screaming, shouting, swearing. “You bastard!”
“Bitch,” he said through clenched teeth and gripped both my wrists. He brought his face a breath away from mine. “Don’t you dare do that again. Get that?”
I spat into his face. “You are an asshole. You are nothing inside, nothing but scum.”
I felt the slap on my face and my head snapped to the side before I even saw his hand.
I turned back to face him, feeling the heat in my eyes, daring him to strike me again.
He grinned, pure evil stretching across his face. “Want to know why you didn’t recognize your sister immediately? She was skilled with a makeup brush. See, she resembled your mother too much, the woman who had turned her back on her. She hated that.” He paused. “She ditched the name too, asked me to call her Lacey instead. I worked my ass off to make her dreams of having a family come true.” He shoved me back and my head hit the toilet pot, and I bit my lip to steel myself. “Then she became an ungrateful bitch just like you. How dare she fuck another man, after everything I did for her?” Drops of spit sprayed everywhere with each word.
He stood and I tightened my whole body, bracing myself for the next blow. His foot landed in my stomach and I gasped with pain. But I was beyond pain at this point, too fueled by anger to stop. He was hurting me physically, but I was intent on hurting him where it hurt most—his ego.
“I’m glad she fucked someone else. You’re a lousy fuck. You never did it for me. Never. I faked so many orgasms.” I smiled up at him, my slapped cheek smarting at the movement. “Dustin, on the other hand—”
“Shut up, whore. Shut the fuck up.” Another kick in my stomach made me double over and taste blood in my mouth, but still I refused to back off. I would continue until I broke him.
I raised my gaze again. Through my blurred vision, I watched him pace the small bathroom, gripping the sides of his hair with his eyes squeezed shut.
“I have a secret too,” I said in a voice that didn’t sound like my
“Poor, poor, Haley. When are you going to remove your rose-tinted glasses? If she was so perfect, why then did Elizabeth grow up in an orphanage? Why did your precious mother not do everything to get her daughter out of that shit hole? Why didn’t she visit her?” He tapped his nose as though thinking hard. “Oh, I know, she chose the booze instead.”
That was the first sign that there could be some kind of truth to what Jude was saying. I had never told him about my mother’s drinking problem. In fact, I had never told him much about my childhood, just enough. But he was an intelligent man. He could have done his research.
“Call me a liar again and I’ll tell you more.”
I looked up, my eyes and nose dripping. “You’re a fucking liar. If Elizabeth were really alive, my mother would have told me. She would have.”
“Except she didn’t, did she? Could it be that she was never sober long enough to even think straight? You know what’s funny? Elizabeth didn’t believe your mother would turn her back on her either. At sixteen, she ran away from the orphanage and followed you and your mother to Serendipity, where you both were by then. Oh, I’m sorry, I meant to keep this short.” He sighed and continued. “Elizabeth found your mother inside her favorite place, a whorehouse. She told Elizabeth she didn’t know who she was and walked away. Can you believe your sweet mother would do that? Maybe it was shame, or maybe she was literally too fucked up.” He roared with laughter, and slapped his knees.
I was trembling now, and anger boiled in my veins, anger at my mother for turning her back on Liz, and for never telling me that she was alive. I was furious with Jude not only for keeping this secret from me, but for murdering my sister. My rage gave me the strength to get up, to lunge for him. Even with handcuffed hands, I punched and clawed at his scarred face, screaming, shouting, swearing. “You bastard!”
“Bitch,” he said through clenched teeth and gripped both my wrists. He brought his face a breath away from mine. “Don’t you dare do that again. Get that?”
I spat into his face. “You are an asshole. You are nothing inside, nothing but scum.”
I felt the slap on my face and my head snapped to the side before I even saw his hand.
I turned back to face him, feeling the heat in my eyes, daring him to strike me again.
He grinned, pure evil stretching across his face. “Want to know why you didn’t recognize your sister immediately? She was skilled with a makeup brush. See, she resembled your mother too much, the woman who had turned her back on her. She hated that.” He paused. “She ditched the name too, asked me to call her Lacey instead. I worked my ass off to make her dreams of having a family come true.” He shoved me back and my head hit the toilet pot, and I bit my lip to steel myself. “Then she became an ungrateful bitch just like you. How dare she fuck another man, after everything I did for her?” Drops of spit sprayed everywhere with each word.
He stood and I tightened my whole body, bracing myself for the next blow. His foot landed in my stomach and I gasped with pain. But I was beyond pain at this point, too fueled by anger to stop. He was hurting me physically, but I was intent on hurting him where it hurt most—his ego.
“I’m glad she fucked someone else. You’re a lousy fuck. You never did it for me. Never. I faked so many orgasms.” I smiled up at him, my slapped cheek smarting at the movement. “Dustin, on the other hand—”
“Shut up, whore. Shut the fuck up.” Another kick in my stomach made me double over and taste blood in my mouth, but still I refused to back off. I would continue until I broke him.
I raised my gaze again. Through my blurred vision, I watched him pace the small bathroom, gripping the sides of his hair with his eyes squeezed shut.
“I have a secret too,” I said in a voice that didn’t sound like my
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