Craved
Chapter 33

Renee:

How could she have let herself get carried away? Or believe, even for one moment, Damon might have feelings for her? He was a playboy. An incubus. Like all the slutty men in the universe poured into one. She wasn't sure what was worse: being used for sex or as food.

"You're amazing in bed, Damon. Too bad you're an arrogant jerk about it," she said to herself and raised her beer in a mock toast to the empty airline seat next to her. She had overheard him talking to that succubus. Then Sofia offered her a limo ride to the airport and a private jet to take her to Boston.

Renee's cell phone buzzed across the leather seat beside her, and with a sigh, she answered, "Hey, Mom. What's up?"

"Renee, how are you? Is everything okay?"

Leave it to her mother to act like the world ended because she didn't call her back right away. "I'm fine. How are things?" She wouldn't ask about Tom, her stepdad. Even after all these years, she still couldn't forgive him for kicking her out of the house or her mother for letting him.

"The signal's bad, I can barely hear you. Are you still in Turkey? I bet it's magical over there. Tom won a golfing trip to Florida. He's been gone for two days, and I already miss him."

So, stepdad wasn't listening in on this conversation. "I'm actually on a plane back to Boston Something came up, and I decided to fly back a few weeks sooner." Crazy incubus aside, she couldn't explain how her almost-relationship with Damon got cut down before it grew roots.

"Oh? I'll meet you."

"Mom, it's not necessary."

"What time does your flight arrive?"

Renee closed her eyes. Was it too much to ask to be alone right now? "I'm not sure. It's a private jet."

Her mother paused, and Renee heard the crinkling of paper and a drawer closing. "I miss you, honey, I'll pick you up when you land."

"Don't. I can get a cab."

"Love you." Mom hung up.

Damn. Now she would have to deal with her mother and jet lag. Once she arrived home, she'd send a thank you letter to Sofia for everything.

Damon. Was he okay? She'd left without saying goodbye. His face blazed through her mind, and she ached for him. She even missed his arrogance and the excitement of talking about history lighting up his eyes. A yearning ached in her chest. Get home, soak in a bath, and forget everything.

The plane seated twelve, but it was only her, the captain, co-captain, and a stewardess. She hit the button on her other side and the seat whirled into a full recline. Nice. She drifted off to sleep.

***

"Miss. We're here." The stewardess tapped Renee's shoulder.

Her eyes fluttered open to a smiling face. "Already?"

She laughed. "Well, you did sleep nearly the entire flight."

"Thank you. Please thank Sofia for me again."

The woman nodded and gestured to the door. Outside, the early morning breeze tousled Renee's curls, and the scent of rain filled the air. In the distance, another plane took off rumbling against the quiet sunrise. After passing through security, she trudged through the terminal dodging other travelers.

"Renee?" a familiar woman's voice called behind her.

She spun around. "Mom. How are you here?"

"I called the airlines, and there was only one private flight coming in from Turkey, so I guessed it was yours." Her mom hugged her. "I love seeing you. Since we don't talk much, I thought with Tom on his trip, we could take advantage of you needing a ride." She looped her arm through Renee's. "So, what happened over there?"

People dashed past them on their way to other flights or the baggage area.

"Things went a little downhill in Turkey, so I arrived home a few weeks early. Nothing major." Stepping out of her mother's grasp, Renee adjusted her purse. "Thanks for the ride." Her head pounded from the fluorescent lights. She and her mom made their way to the parking garage. "So why didn't you go with Tom on his trip?" Didn't they do everything together with him telling and her bowing?

"It was only one ticket. Besides, I hate golf." She laughed, her dark eyes crinkling. "Now tell me about your trip. So, Turkey? I've never been but always wanted to go. What was it like?"

Renee told her the normal human things about Turkey: the beautiful country, wonderful people, amazing geography, and spicy alcohol. But she didn't mention Damon or the weirdness of the necklace. If her mom did notice it, she'd tell her it was just a smoky quartz she uncovered on her dig and had crafted into a necklace. "I have a souvenir for you, but it's on the way with the rest of my baggage."

Her mother raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. Renee didn't wish to get into a lengthy discussion of why she left Turkey with only the clothes on her back. Talking about that would bring Damon into the story, and she didn't think she could say his name without her throat catching.

They drove in silence for a while until Renee realized they weren't heading in the direction of her apartment. "Mom, my apartment is on the other side of the bridge. We missed the exit." "Sorry." But she didn't change direction. "I've not been able to speak with you much since you left."

"You mean when I was barely eighteen and Tom threw me out?"

Her mom cringed, then continued down the highway.

Renee flipped through the radio stations, finally deciding on a light jazz one. The music filled the silence as the landscape changed from urban to the suburbs. Streetlights flickered on as they pulled into the old driveway with the crack still in the center of it. Now grass grew in-between the gap.

"Come in. There's something I must show you."

Part of her wanted to pout in the car until her mom gave up and took her home. The other thought to spend some time with her mom like they used to before jerk-wad showed up. "Fine, for a few minutes."

Inside, the house looked the same, except older. The kitchen table was cluttered with yesterday's mail and newspaper. The loveseat couch used to be her favorite, now it had lopsided cushions sunken in from use and age. A crocheted blanket with white fringe was draped over the couch with a divot in the middle where her mom and Tom sat and watched TV and apparently still did from the size of the sag in the middle of it.

Renee sat on the loveseat while her mom put on the kettle for tea.

"Do you have any boyfriends?"

"Mom! I'm twenty-five years old. I'm happy being single." Trust me, you wouldn't want to know the almost-boyfriend I had.

"Oh."

"Don't sound like it's the end of the world. Lots of women wait to get serious. I think you married too fast after Dad died."

"Don't blame Tom. He didn't do anything wrong."

"Enough. I'm sorry, Mom, but I can't pretend everything's okay. Or that I'm better off because your jerk husband kicked me out before my birthday cake was two days old. Yes, I picked myself up and moved on. I'll never be okay with what he did or forgive him. You did nothing to stop it." The words were out of her mouth before she realized it. Her stomach churned.

Tears glistened in her mom's eyes, and her lip quivered. "It wasn't him."

"What? I was there. He told me "

"No," Mom whispered and wrung her hands. "It was my idea. Y-you were so stubborn and not willing to work hard for anything. My fault, after your father died, I coddled you. I told Tom you should be out and on your own once you turned eighteen. Still, he delayed. Then you and I argued about the dishwasher, and I couldn't take it anymore. You always fought me and sassed everything I said." What the hell?

"Tom worried if I threw you out, it would permanently damage our relationship. So, he volunteered to be the bad guy."

"Right. He was happy to be rid of me."

"No. He loved you, and it hurt him when you never got over it or spoke a word to him again." Tears fell freely down her face. "But it was me!"

Not knowing what to do, Renee shoved her hands into her pockets. "I still think he liked me gone."

Her mom shook her head. "No. I'll prove it to you." She went to the bookshelf, then tugged out a thick photo album. "He made this. Without my help." She handed it to Renee, then disappeared into the kitchen.

A click sounded as her mom shut off the tea kettle. Renee flipped open the book, expecting family photos. Pictures of her as a kid filled the pages. Even as early as when Tom first started dating her mom. In his handwriting were the captions: Renee made the cutest face for the camera. Renee and Mom tickling each other and making my heart sing. Renee graduating from college. Renee getting her teacher's license. Mom crying over her smart, proud, beautiful, and still stubborn daughter.

Everything was there. Family vacations. Report cards, drawings she had done in school. She coughed when her throat tightened. Even the note she forged to get out of school one day. The principal letters of her skipping school. Tom's notes on how he met with her school counselor on how to give Renee more independence of walking to class instead of him driving and picking her up. The time she set the kitchen on fire because she left a pan of grease on the stove and left it to play soccer with the neighborhood kids when it was her turn to make dinner. All this time, she thought he hated her and couldn't wait to get rid of her. Unintentionally, Tom had tainted Renee's view of men her entire life.

She fingered a photo of her and Tom fishing when she was nine. He'd insisted, since Renee couldn't swim because of her phobia, that she put on a lifejacket. The only one available at the lake that day had been adult-size and it engulfed her. Why had her mom never told her this? Worse, why hadn't Renee bothered to talk to her mom about it before now? On shaky legs, she walked into the kitchen. "I'm sorry, Mom." She hugged her mom and cried. "Sorry for all the trouble I caused you and Tom."

Her mother sobbed, hugging her back with warm arms. "We love you so much. It hurt to watch you leave, hating us."

At the doorbell trilling, Renee gave her mom a final squeeze. "I'll get it." She couldn't wait to see Tom again and apologize for being such a horrid stepdaughter. Somehow, she'd make it up to him. When he got back from his trip, she'd surprise him with a fishing trip. Her steps were light as she raced ahead.

Opening the door, joy strangled in her throat. There stood Cynthia with a gun and Clive with a wicked smile.