J Robb - Imitation in Death

She came back wearing the robe he’d hung on the bathroom door, a thin and simple black robe he doubted she knew she owned.

“What is that green stuff?”

“Asparagus. It’s good for you.”

She thought it looked like something you’d whack out of a cartoon garden, but the fish and rice with it looked pretty good. So did the glass of straw-colored wine.

She went for the wine first, hoping it would make the green stalks go down easier. “How come stuff that’s good for you always has to be green and funny-looking?”

“Because nutrition doesn’t come in a candy bar.”

“It ought to.”

“You’re stalling, Eve.”

“Maybe.” She stabbed one of the stalks, shoved it into her mouth. It wasn’t half bad, but she made a disgusted face for form.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know.” She flaked off a bite of fish. “I had a dream about my mother.”

“Dream or memory?”

“I don’t know. Both.” She ate, scooped up rice. “I think both. I was in an apartment, or a hotel room. I don’t know which, but apartment, I think. Some dump. I was three, four. How do you tell?”

“I don’t know.”

“Me, either. Anyway…”

She told him of being alone, of going into the bedroom, playing with the enhancements, the wig, though she’d been forbidden.

“Maybe kids always do what you tell them not to. I don’t know. But I… it was irresistible. I think I wanted to look pretty. I thought all that junk would make me look pretty. Dolling up, that’s what they call it, don’t they? I was dolling up because once, when she was in a good mood, she told me I looked like a little doll.”

“Children,” Roarke said carefully, “must, I think, have an instinctive need to please their mothers. At least during those early years.”

“I guess. I didn’t like her, I was afraid of her, but I wanted her to like me. To tell me I was pretty or something. Hell.”

She shoveled in more food. “I got so into it I didn’t hear them come back. She walked in, saw me. She belted me. I think she was jonesing-that’s the cop talking, but I think she was. There were works on the dresser. I didn’t know what they were. I mean as a kid I didn’t, but…”

“You don’t have to explain.”

“Yeah.” She kept eating. She was afraid the food would stick in her throat, but she kept eating. “She was screaming at me, and I was crying. Sprawled on the floor bawling. She was going to clock me again, but he wouldn’t let her. He picked me up…” Her stomach roiled at the memory. “Shit. Oh shit.”

When her fork clattered to her plate, Roarke reached over, gently eased her head down between her knees. “All right then, long and slow. Take long, slow breaths.”

His voice was gentle, as was the hand on her head. But his face was murderous.

“I can’t stand him putting his hands on me. Even then, it made my skin crawl. He hadn’t touched me yet, hadn’t raped me yet, but some part of me must’ve known. How could I have known?”

“Instinct.” He pressed his lips to the back of her head as his heart ripped to pieces. “A child knows a monster when she sees one.”

“Maybe. Maybe. Okay. I’m okay.” She sat up, let her head lean back. “I couldn’t stand to have him touch me, but I sort of curled into him. Anything to get away from her. From what I saw in her eyes. She hated me, Roarke. She wanted me dead. No, more. She wanted me erased. She was a whore. It was a whore’s tools on the dresser. A whore and a junkie, and she looked at me as if I were dirt. I came out of her. I think she hated me more because I did.”

Though her hand wasn’t quite steady, she reached for the wine, used it to wet her dry throat. “I don’t understand that. I thought… I guess I figured she couldn’t be as bad as he was. I grew inside her, so there had to be something. But she was as bad as he was. Maybe even worse.”

“They’re part of you.” She jerked when he said it, and he closed his hands over hers, kept his eyes fierce on hers. “What makes you, Eve, is the fact that you are what you are despite that. In spite of them.”

Her voice was strangled, but she had to speak. “I love you a hell of a lot right now.”

“Then we’re even.”

“Roarke, I didn’t know, didn’t realize, I wanted there to be something, to have something from her, until I realized for certain there wasn’t. Stupid.”

“It’s not.” His heart broke a little more as he brought her hands, one at a time, to his lips. “No, it’s not. Was tonight the first you’ve had the dream?”

He saw it, the combination of guilt and embarrassment that rushed into her face. His fingers tightened on hers before she had a chance to draw her hands away. “That wasn’t what this was about tonight.” His tone was flat, a warning that made her hackles rise in defense. “How long ago, Eve?”

“A while. A few days. Last week. How the hell do I know? I didn’t mark it on my damn calendar. Having a few dead bodies fall at my feet tends to prey on my mind. I don’t have some handy admin keeping track of my every move and thought.”

“You think turning this into a fight will distract me from the fact you’ve kept this from me for days? Before we went to Boston.” Too angry to sit, he pushed to his feet. “Before that, before I asked you what was wrong, and you brushed me off with a handy lie.”

“I didn’t lie, I just didn’t tell you. I couldn’t tell you because…” She trailed off, shifted gears quickly. “I wasn’t ready, that’s all.”

“Bollocks.”

“I don’t even know what that means.” She speared another asparagus and ate determinedly.

“You made a decision not to tell me.” He sat again, crowding her. “Why?”

“You know, ace, maybe you could bag your ego for five fucking minutes so this isn’t about you. It’s my deal, so-hey!”

She nearly slammed him back when he gripped her chin, but he outmaneuvered her, nudging her back so he could stare into her eyes. “But it is about me, isn’t it? I’m following the path of your busy brain well enough now, I think. What I found out about my mother not long ago stopped you from letting me be there for you with this.”

“Look, you’re still messed up about it. You don’t think you are-not the big, strong man, but you are. You’ve got bruises all over you, and I can see them, so I didn’t figure dumping this on you would do any good.”

“Because thinking of your mother, who had no love for you, would only bring the grief for my own, who did love me, closer to the surface.”

“Something like that. Let go.”

He didn’t. “That’s a flawed and stupid logic,” He leaned in, kissed her long and hard. “And I’d have done the same, I imagine. I do grieve for her. I don’t know if I’ll ever stop completely. And I don’t know how I’d have begun to get through it without you. Don’t shut me out.”

“I was just trying to give us both some time to settle.”

“Understood. Accepted. But we seem to settle better together, don’t you think? Where did she hit you?”

Staring at him, she touched the back of her hand to her cheek, then felt her heart stumble when he leaned in, touched his lips gently to the spot as if it were still painful.

“Never again,” he told her. “We’ve beaten them, darling Eve. Separately, and together, we’ve beaten them. For all the nightmares and the bitterness, we’ve still won.”

She took a breath. “Are you going to be pissed off when I tell you I talked to Mira about this a few days ago?”

“No. Did it help?”

“Some. This helped more.” She toyed with her food again. “Cleaned me out. Maybe my brain will start cooking again. I was so off when I got home. I couldn’t fling a decent insult at Summerset. And I’ve been saving up.”