Page 83 of Sinner's Malice
“I need Lucy McLaren delivered alive to the clubhouse.”
“Consider it done.”
Twenty-Two
Silver
Two days later...
“Therapy only works if you talk, Silver.” Torment sighed as I looked around his office at the clubhouse. Generally, the brother operated out of his office building downtown, but since Malice and I both flat-out refused to step one toe in that building, Torment had no choice but to hold our daily sessions at the clubhouse. Considering that neither of us were forthcoming, I didn’t understand why Torment insisted we sit there for the entire hour.
I’d been in this room three times already and still hadn’t said shit.
Well, nothing he didn’t already know.
“You know I can sit here all day, Silver. Makes no difference to me.”
“Bet your other clients will have something to say about that.”
“For the time being, I’ve cleared my schedule, so to speak, and hired a suitable replacement so I can devote all my time to you and Malice.”
Leaning forward, I rested my elbows on my knees. “I’ve really got nothing to say, Torment. I’m good. Got no hidden anger, fear, or resentment. My supposed mom is a cunt. Hope she diesa painful death. Never knew my dad. My tormentor is dead. Malice and I are good. I’m good. Happy even.”
“You just learned that the woman you thought was your mother is not your mother. That you have no idea who your actual parents are. How does that make you feel?”
Sitting back, I groaned. “Honestly, Torment. I feel nothing. How can I miss something I never knew?”
“Aren’t you curious?”
I shrugged. “I guess some part of me is, but I’m not going to cry like a baby if I never find out.”
“Tell me about your childhood. Before you arrived in California. What was it like growing up in Wales?”
I sighed. “It was good, I guess. I grew up in Porthdinllaen, a small fishing village on the northern coast of the Llyn Peninsula in North Wales. I had an idyllic life, friends and family. I thought I had it all until I didn’t.”
“What was so idyllic about it?”
“Everything, I guess. I was happy. Well, as happy as I could be back then. I went to school, had friends, loved to watch the fishermen on their boats. I spent a lot of time near the water. I remember there was a cove near the harbor where I would sit for hours watching the waves roll in. I found it soothing.”
“What was soothing about it?”
“Everything. Being raised by the town slut didn’t do me any favors, so when I could get away, I did. I would sit near that cove and dream of far-off places. Magical places that would take me far away from her.”
“Where were some places you dreamed of going?”
“I don’t know,” I muttered, fumbling with my fingers. “Anywhere she wasn’t.”
“What was it like when she was around?”
“She drank all the time. If she wasn’t drunk, she was high as a kite. On the rare occasion she was sober, she was at the pub,hitting on the tourists, hoping one of them would fuck her so she could steal their money. She never could keep a job. We were always broke. If it weren’t for the local parish charity, we’d have starved to death. Every penny she got went to drugs.”
“And where were you when this was happening?”
“Anywhere she wasn’t. I learned early to stay away when she was jonesing for a fix.”
“Tell me more about the cove.”
Taking a deep breath, I sighed. “It was just a cove, Torment. A place I could hide when she was being a bitch. Everyone in town knew that’s where I went when she was drunk, high, or with a man. She never went near the place.”