I tighten my lips, a stabbing pain in my chest with the reminder of him, but also oddly comforted that she finds him just as ridiculous as I do.
“Does he know you’re here?” I ask.
“Would it change a damn thing if he did?” she retorts. There goes her nose—hiking up in the air with superiority. It brings a smile to my face.
“I tried to see you,” I murmur.
She visibly softens. “I know you did, honey. I was too weak to do much, but I didn’t agree with your father. Regardless of your horrible taste in men, you’re my daughter and always will be.”
I give her a droll look. “Clearly, I’m not the only one with horrible taste in men,” I say pointedly.
She pauses, and then surprises me by chuckling. Now it feels like I’m the one with the gunshot wound. I mean, I’m funny, I know this. But my mother has never thought so.
“I suppose not,” she concedes. “Where is your boyfriend, by the way? I’d like to thank him.”
My brows jump in surprise, and now I wonder if Sibby hit me so hard that it sent me into an alternate universe.
“Don’t you give me that look,” she sasses. “He may be a bad influence, but he saved my life. So did that nice doctor of his.”
“He’s not here right now, but I’ll let him know.”
She nods stiffly, glancing at the ceiling when the floorboards above creak.
That may have been Sibby, but it also may not have been. Maybe it was Gigi—I haven’t seen her in a while. But that’s the fun in Parsons Manor. You just never really know.
Shifting uncomfortably, I open my mouth, readying for another apology, but she holds up a hand, silencing me.
“I know what you’re going to say. Another thing your atrocious father was wrong about. It wasn’t your fault I was shot, Adeline. I don’t remember much about what happened, and I’m grateful for it. But what I do know is that man was holding a gun to your head. And if taking a bullet in the chest means that my daughter doesn’t have one through her skull and is six feet under… then it was worth it.”
My lip trembles, fresh tears lining my eyelids. I dip my chin, working to gather my composure before I’m reduced to a blubbering mess.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice tight and raspy.
When I meet her gaze, it’s soft and almost sad. It only makes my chest ache more.
Clearing my throat, I wipe beneath my tears, preparing to change the subject.
“So uh, Kraven, why’d your parents name you that?”
Mom sighs, shaking her head at my rudeness. Whatever.
It’s a valid question.
He grins. “It’s my father’s name,” he answers shortly. Vaguely.
“Okay, Kraven Jr., what company do you work for?”
“Addie,” Mom snaps, but I ignore her. Also, a valid question.
“My mother is a traveling home health nurse, and with the patients’ permission, I tag along to help sometimes.” He shrugs a shoulder, glancing at my mother. “We all got along great, so when Serena needs assistance running errands or getting around, I give her a hand.”
Mom smiles warmly. “His mother is an absolute angel, and Kraven has been a gem, too. Your dad has been working a lot again, so the extra hand has been a big help.”
Relaxing, I nod my head, relieved that she’s been taken care of so well.
I’m typically not a suspicious person, but my fighting skills haven’t been the only thing I’ve fine-tuned over the months. My instincts are sharp, and though I don’t necessarily get a bad vibe from Kraven, I do feel like he’s not all he makes himself out to be.
Before I can get another word out, Sibby comes storming down the steps, hair wet from the shower, fresh-faced, and dressed in a royal blue t-shirt dress and big, pink bunny slippers on her feet.
Right when she goes to say something, she freezes, her entire body locking. As if in slow motion, her eyes slide to Kraven, widening when their gazes clash.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she snaps.
Goddammit. I knew there was something off about him.
Brows hiked, I turn to Mom’s caretaker, finding him just as surprised as Sibby.
“I could ask you the same thing, Sibel.”
Epilogue
The Hunter
Three Months Later
“Still can’t find her?” I ask Daya, glancing up at her as I pick at my salad. I knock my fork into a crouton, watching it tumble off my plate.
She twists her lips, a flash of guilt in her green eyes.
“No,” she admits. “No wonder she got away with murder for so long. She really knows how to fucking disappear.”