Safe Word by Teresa Mummert Page A

held it to my face as I inhaled. “But I just got a very important job and I can’t have something like this landing on my doorstep.”
    She nodded, looking relieved that I hadn’t made her an accomplice to murder. I took another drag before I let my eyes drift back to her. She was still fixated on her bloody attacker. She was wearing what used to be a white T-shirt and tiny black shorts. I would have thought she was coming from the gym had I not found her behind the club.
    “You on your way home?”
    “I was,” she said with a sigh, “but now my ride might have trouble driving.”
    I laughed and flicked my ashes between us.
    “Well, Amber like the color, I can give you a ride if you like.” I wasn’t talking about my car.
    “Yeah, take me home.” Her eyes narrowed and my dick went rock hard.
    “Right this way, darlin’.” I grabbed the wig from the ground and guided her to my car.
    Rose was my lifelong addiction and Amber had become my methadone. She filled that desperate need to connect to my past no matter how much I tried to deny it. I had worked hard to become a good person but that one moment in time had pulled me back.
    “It kills me the way you look at me now.”
    “Get used to it, sweetheart.” This bitch was determined to fuck with my head. I walked into the kitchen, ignoring her as I grabbed a container of yogurt from the bottom of my fridge and a spoon from the drawer. I carried it back to her and held it out for her to take. “Eat. You can do it out here or in there.” I motioned toward the spare bedroom. “Make it fast. I have shit I’ve got to deal with.” Brock couldn’t have called at a worse time. The secrets would pile up around me quickly.
    She nodded, looking down at the food in her hands before crossing the room and sitting on the couch in the living room. She peeled back the foil lid and dipped her spoon in the strawberry yogurt, stirring it around to mix the fruit.
    “What happened to your dad?”
    “What the fuck do you care? Little late for concern.”
    “Jesus, Cole. I just want to know what happened to you after I left.”
    I clenched my jaw, swallowing back all of the nasty things I wanted to say to her.
    “You’re about to take your meal to go,” I shot back, narrowing my eyes at her. She looked down at her food, her fingers stilled. “He’s dead. Both of my parents are dead.”
    Her eyes shot up, wide and sad.
    “Your mom? How?”
    “She killed herself when I was nineteen.” I crossed the room and sank down on the couch. I struggled to block out my past, and now it was looking me in the eye and begging me to talk about those secrets I had locked away so many years ago. “She shot herself in the head in our living room. Do you know how rare it is for a woman to commit suicide with a gun?”
    She shook her head, tears glossing her eyes.
    “Pretty fucking rare.”
    “Do you…” her voice trailed off and I avoided her question. I had always held on to the belief that she hadn’t killed herself; that my father had finally put an end to his brutality, but the evidence wasn’t there.
    “I found her. I should have been there to stop her.”
    “You can’t blame yourself.”
    I blamed myself for not protecting my mother. For her death, for losing Rose and not being able to protect her when she was younger. I had spent most of my adult life trying to make it up to all of those I had let down, but it was never enough.
    “Eat your food.” I relaxed against the back of the sofa and propped my feet on the old coffee table. I wasn’t having this conversation with her. Not now. Too many years had passed and I was desperately trying to rewrite history for sanity’s sake. Having her here was crumbling the facade and none of this would end well.
    She took a bite of her food, flipping the spoon over so she could run her tongue over it. Her eyes flicked to mine and I cleared my throat, pulling my gaze from her mouth. Her lips began to pull up at the corners and I knew