Page 106 of Reckless Love

“I don’t want him in Landon’s life anymore,” Ava says, and I hear the edge of tears in her voice.

“Okay,” I say, speaking for the first time since we left the apartment. “We’re going home to regroup.” I rise out of the chair and offer Ava my hand. “Thank you for your time and expertise, Caitlin. We appreciate it.”

“This isn’t right,” Ava says as I lead her out the door. “Maybe Raul was tricked too, but I’m not letting my mother win, and I’m not letting him win. They don’t get to ruin my life and not face any consequences.”

“We’re not powerless, Ava. But we need a plan. Trust me. A plan is vital.” Because Ava might not have ever gone up against her mother or a man like Raul, but I’ve witnessed all of their machinations up close and personal before. Landon might have my DNA, but legally, I’m not sure Celia or Raul will ever really let him be mine.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Ava

“You’re not coming with me,” I say to him again as I throw things in my purse from the apartment. Nothing I’m putting in is important, but it gives me something to do with my hands while my brain is on fire. My mother lied to me. Not just that—she deliberately deceived me. Changed the entire course of my life, of Landon’s life, and she’s put me in an impossible situation. How do I explain any of this to Landon?

“She’s your mother, yes, but you don’t know her like I do.” Stephen leans against the door that’ll take me into the main foyer of the apartment and out the door. It’s passive blocking, and I don’t like it. Everyone just needs to get out of my way.

“I feel like I’m about to know her like that, don’t you?” I whirl to face him, hands on my hips.

“In a situation like this, you can’t show up at her house on impulse.”

“My childhood home. That’s where I’m going. She’s my mother.”

Stephen lets out a sigh of frustration and runs his hand through his hair. “Celia Tucker, backed into a corner, is not your mother. Not when you’re the one about to make her life difficult. She’ll never admit that what she did was wrong.”

“So, I just, what? Say nothing? Let this enormous betrayal go? She fucked everything up. Everything.”

“What outcome do you want?” He leaves the door to run his hands up and down my arms. “What realistic outcome do you want?”

“I want her to admit what she did. I want to hear her say it.”

“And then what?”

“Then we ruin her life like she ruined mine.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Can we do it?”

Stephen grimaces, and he steps back from me to shove his hands into his pockets. “Possibly. But she’s very good at mutually assured destruction. Some of what she’s done—some of what I did for her—could get us both sent to jail if it sees the light of day.”

“I need her to pay for this, Stephen. And not the way my siblings have punished her. I’m not talking about kicking her out of the family. That’s not enough. I want her social status and her name stripped from any position of power on this island.”

“There are things we can do,” Stephen says with more certainty. “But we need a strong plan. Once she knows you know—”

“I’m not waiting. She can have the full force of my wrath.” I sling my bag onto my shoulder, and I storm toward the front door.

“Ava,” Stephen calls. “Come on. This is not wise.”

Fuck it. No one has ever accused me of being wise before. If my mother thought she could fuck me over and get away with it, she hasn’t been paying attention to the firecracker she birthed. Maybe my spark was dulled for a while, but it’s been reignited, and the incoming boom is about to rattle her life.

“Mother!” I call into the house, the butler from the front door stumbling behind me with a lot of nonsense about waiting to be admitted. “I grew up in this house,” I say to him over my shoulder. “You’re new here, but waiting for my mother to agree to see me is not something I do.

“Mother!” I screech.

“Ava,” she says from the top of the stairs, her tone mild. “I feel like we’ve gone back in time. Have you regressed to being a teenage brat? What’s all this about?” Her eyes widen. “Has Raul woken up?” She rushes down the stairs. “I told him he needed to take all those threats more seriously.”

When she comes forward to embrace me, I step back. “The only person who’s woken up is me.”

“Oh?” She raises her eyebrows, and her tone is wary. “Is that a fact? Have you woken up to your reality? That you should be in Boston, supporting your injured husband, not shacked up with an ex-police officer? Have you woken up to the truth that someone as lowly and poor as Stephen Foster could never satisfy your lust for more?”