I Would Kill For You

23. Sinners and Saints

"Avery's been murdered. I'm already a part of this. And I'm not abandoning my friends in times of need." I spat.

"Something tells me that boy doesn't fall in the friends category. And what possible business could you have with his brother?"

"Personal business." I replied nonchalantly, getting up from the bed. It was amazing how quickly our conversation escalated from loving to defensive.

My mother looked hurt, but she concealed her disappointment swiftly with a quirk of her brows.

"I see. Well, be careful, dear. People are not always what they seem to be."

***

"Thank you for coming so soon and agreeing to meet us, miss Emerson."

"You may call me Gloria." she replied with a congenial smile.

Damian and Joseph's mother was not like I expected. Instead of a stern and intimidating figure, stood a very affable-looking and beautiful, graceful woman. Damian definitely inherited her majestic stance, high cheekbones, small straight nose and full lips, but everything else about her reminded me of Joseph. They had the same hair colour and that serene look in their brown eyes, laced by long black lashes; they both had a very warm and trust-inspiring aura, that automatically made me like her. She had short hair that was parted to the side and barely reached her chin, and that gave her a specific tint of youth.

We were in a restaurant, seated at a table, although there was one empty chair, and that one was reserved for no one else than William Belfort.

"I took the first plane to London as soon as Joe phoned me. I can't believe William let our son stay in prison as if he were a criminal. That's despicable, even for him." she shook her head despondently, the corner of her lips tugging down in displeasure. Judging by the timbre of her voice and her expression, I could tell that she wasn't very fond of her ex-husband.

"We were hoping you would change his mind. We didn't know who else to call." Joseph said apologetically.

"I will try my best, love." she uttered affectionately, offering him a beautiful smile.

Deja-vu took over me. I'm not buying you alcohol, love, Damian had said to me whimsically when we were in the club and we pretended to be together. That was probably what his mother called him as well when he was little. 

An immense wistful longing took hold of my heart, wringing it painfully. I realised how much I missed him, how empty I felt without him. Even the cold he emanated brought me more warmth than his absence. I missed the feeling of his arms around me, protecting me from the entire world; his lips on mine, transposing me to heaven.

"But how have you been?" she asked her son concerningly.

Her question suddenly irked me. Of course, she had every right to ask Joseph that, but why wasn't she asking about Damian first? He was the one in prison, but she didn't seem to be too distressed about that. Why wasn't she asking if he was okay? I swallowed the lump in my throat and bit my tongue. How could I reproach her for bad parenting when I didn't know the whole situation?

 I riveted my eyes to Joseph. He was seated by my side, and he hadn't touched his tea at all. He looked slightly uncomfortable, and he loosened the dark blue tie around his neck, clearing his throat.

"All right, thank you."

"What does Damian think about you two dating?"