Unveiled
Page 49

‘Don’t take her away from me!’
I swallow hard and push my face farther into Miller’s neck as he ignores my mother’s demand and marches on.
‘Gracie!’ William’s bellow dilutes the stamping of feet, making Miller’s stride falter slightly, but my head shaking into him soon kicks him back into top gear. ‘Gracie, damn it! Leave her!’
‘No!’
We’re suddenly jerked to a stop and Miller growls, swinging around to confront my mother. ‘Let go of my arm,’ he hisses, his tone bursting with the same level of threat that I’ve heard him use on others. The fact that this woman is my mother is of no consequence to Miller. ‘I won’t repeat myself.’ He remains still, obviously waiting for her to let go rather than yanking himself from her grip.
‘I’m not letting you take her.’ Gracie’s resolute voice puts the fear of God in me. I can’t face her. I don’t want to face her. ‘I need to talk to her. Explain so many things.’
Miller begins to pulsate against me, and it’s in this moment I fully comprehend my situation. He’s looking at my mother. He’s looking at the woman who abandoned me. ‘She’ll talk to you when she’s ready,’ he says quietly, but there’s no mistaking the warning laced in his words. ‘If she’s ready.’
I feel his face turn into the side of my head and his lips push into my hair, breathing in deeply. He’s reassuring me. He’s telling me I’m going to be doing nothing that I don’t want to do. And I love him so much for it.
‘But I need to talk to her now.’ Determination is rife in her tone. ‘She needs to know—’
Miller loses it in the blink of an eye. ‘Does she look ready to talk to you?’ he roars, making me jump in his arms. ‘You abandoned her!’
‘I had no choice.’ My mother’s words are shaky, her emotion obvious. Yet I feel no empathy, and I wonder right now if that makes me inhuman. Heartless. No, I have a heart, and it’s pounding in my chest right now, reminding me of her cruel actions all those years ago. My heart has no room for Gracie Taylor. It’s too consumed by Miller Hart.
‘We all have choices,’ Miller says, ‘and I’ve made mine. I’d walk through the bowels of hell for this girl, and I am. You didn’t. That’s what makes me worthy of her love. That’s what makes me deserve her.’
My sobs return full force as a result of his admission. Knowing he loves me fills the emptiness within me with pure, powerful gratitude. Hearing him confirm that he thinks he’s worthy of my love makes it all overflow.
‘You self-righteous arsehole,’ Gracie seethes, that Taylor sass flying up to support her.
‘Gracie, darling,’ William pipes up.
‘No, Will! I left to prevent her from being subjected to the depravity I faced. I’ve skipped from country to country for eighteen years, killing myself on a daily basis that I couldn’t be with her. That I couldn’t be a mum! I’ll be damned if he’s going to strut into her life and toss every painful moment I’ve endured all these years to shit!’
That statement registers loud and clear through my crippling agony. Her pain? Her fucking pain? My need to jump from Miller’s arms and slap her face sends me momentarily dizzy with anger, but Miller pulls a long, steady breath of air and flexes his arm around my waist, distracting me from my intention. He knows. He knows what those words have done to me. He shifts a palm to the back of my leg and tugs in a sign for me to respond, so I wrap my thighs around his waist in acknowledgement, and maybe for my mother’s benefit.
This is all I need. He’s not giving me up and I’m not letting him go. Not even for my mother.
‘She’s mine,’ Miller states coolly, calmly, and confidently. ‘Not even you will rob her from me.’ His almost unreasonable promise fills me with hope. ‘Take me on, Gracie. I fucking dare you.’ He turns and strides out of the Society, me coiled around him like a scarf – a tightly knotted scarf that will never be undone.
 
‘You have to let go now,’ Miller murmurs into my hair when we reach his car, but I answer only by squeezing him tightly and moaning into his hair. ‘Olivia, come on now.’
Sniffing back my subsiding tears, I peel my wet face from his neck, keeping my eyes on the sodden collar of his crisp white shirt. My makeup has rubbed off on it. There’s mascara and pink blush mixed and embedded into the expensive material. ‘It’s ruined,’ I sigh. I don’t need to see him to know a frown has just appeared on his handsome face.
‘It’s fine,’ he replies, confusion rich in his tone, confirming my previous thought. ‘Here, jump down.’
I relent and detach myself from his tall frame with his assistance, then stand before him, eyes dropped, not wanting to face his perplexity. He’ll demand an elaboration on my nonchalance. I don’t want to elaborate, and no amount of demanding will make me. So it’s simply easier to avoid his probing stare. ‘Let’s go get Nan,’ I practically sing, pivoting and making for the passenger side, leaving Miller behind, unquestionably confused. I don’t care. As far as I’m concerned, what just happened never happened. I slip into the seat and shut the door, making fast work of getting my belt on. I’m dying to get to Nan, desperate to take her home and start helping with her recuperation.
I ignore the heat of his eyes on me when he slips in beside me, choosing to reach forward and flick the stereo on instead. I smile when M83’s “Midnight City” blasts from all of the speakers. Perfect.
After a good few seconds have passed and Miller still hasn’t started his car, I finally pluck up the courage to face him. I smile brighter. ‘Chop-chop.’
He barely contains his recoil. ‘Livy, what . . .’
I reach up and push my fingertips to his lips, immediately shutting him up. ‘No them, Miller,’ I start, tracing my way to his throat when I’m certain he’ll let me continue without interruption. His Adam’s apple rolls under my touch when he gulps. ‘Just us.’ I smile and watch as his eyes narrow in uncertainty, his head moving from side to side slowly. Then he returns my smile with a small one of his own and takes my hand to his mouth and kisses it tenderly.
‘Us,’ he confirms, broadening my smile. I nod my thanks and reclaim my hand, getting comfortable in the leather seat, my head dropped back, my eyes staring up at the ceiling. I do an incredible job of centring my thoughts on one thing and one thing alone.
Nan.
Seeing her lovely face, listening to her spunky words, feeling her squidgy body when I take her in a fierce hug, and relishing in the time I’ll get to spend with her while she’s recovering. It’s my job. No one else’s. No one else gets the pleasure of all of those things. Just me. She’s mine.
‘For now I’ll respect your request,’ Miller muses as he turns the engine over, and I look out the corner of my eye to see him doing exactly the same to me. I quickly divert my stare forward, ignoring his words and his look, which tells me I’m not going to be basking in ignorance for long. I know this, but for now I have the perfect distraction and I’m going to throw myself into it completely.
 
The hospital is horribly hot and stuffy, but crazily a source of calm. My feet march on with resolve, like my body has cottoned on to my ploy and is assisting me in reaching the object of my distraction plan without delay. Miller hasn’t said a word since we pulled away from the Society. He’s left me to my thoughts, which have been blocking anything that may tarnish the elation I’m depending on once I lay my eyes on my grandmother. His palm is wrapped securely around my nape as he walks beside me, his finger kneading softly into my flesh. I love how he knows what I need, and I need this. Him. And Nan. Nothing else.