Free Hard Curves (Dangerous Curves Book 2) by Marysol James Page B

me.”
    Abandoned us , Mom.
    “Cleaned out the bank account, took my mama’s jewelry, took my rings. Left me high-and-dry with nothing but a mouth to feed.”
    You mean me , Mom.
    “Not a word since… and God knows, no money. Why do I keep trusting these bastards, baby girl? Why?”
    “Are you at home?” Naomi asked, trying to refocus her.
    “Nope.”
    “You’re still at the bar?”
    “Yep. Can you come and get me?”
    Naomi dug deep for the courage to have the next phase of this conversation. Sure, there had been a time when she’d have rushed out of there like a bat out of hell, rescued her mother from whatever mess she’d landed herself in, paid her bar tab and offered apologies all around.
    She’d have driven Mom home, fed her, plied her with aspirin and water, coaxed her in to a shower and then in to bed. She’d have spent hours listening to her mother rail against whatever the issue of the moment was – and whatever it was, it always ended with a rant about Naomi’s father – and she’d have emerged from it all shattered and stressed. Then she’d have gone to the bar herself, all ready to explode like a pressure cooker, and convinced herself that she deserved just one drink . It was never just one drink.
    Boundaries… you need to set them, you need to make sure you enforce them. It’s Mom’s choice to be drunk at nine a.m. – just like it’s your choice not to be. Not anymore. You can’t save her, and you can’t force her to see. All you can do is protect yourself and your sobriety.
    “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m at work and I can’t come get you.”
    “What – you’re gonna just leave me here?”
    “You got yourself there, you’ll get yourself home.”
    “You goddamned ungrateful little whore. After everything I put up with from you, you’re really gonna do this to me?”
    Naomi flinched. After twenty-five years of it, she should be used to this part by now, but she wasn’t. The worst of it was that Mom would have no memory of the insults she had hurled; they would be Naomi’s alone to have to work through on the nights that sleep was elusive.
    “I’m going now, Mom. Be safe. I love you.”
    “You fucking – ”
    Naomi disconnected, shaking and teary. It just never got better, never got easier.
    This is one of the reasons that you drank, remember. To make these feelings go away, to hide from feeling so alone and unloved. But feeling those things isn’t going to kill you. It hurts like hell, but you can hurt badly and still draw breath. You’re strong enough to hurt and not medicate it away. Just let yourself hurt.
    Naomi heard a knock at her office door and she looked up in horror. She quickly wiped her cheeks, slid her coin under a stack of papers, and sat up straight in her chair.
    “Come in!” she called, trying to sound normal.
    The door opened and there stood Matt. She almost crumpled at the sight of him, so large and solid and gorgeous in the morning sun. She wanted to have him hold her, right now , to make her feel something other than unwanted and small. She was sure he’d take her in those arms if she asked him to.
    OK. Time to put on the game face, girl. Hide it all from him.
    King took one look at her and quickly shut the door behind him. “Are you alright?”
    “Yeah, of course.” She tried to smile. “What’s up?”
    Not buying it for even a nanosecond, he came closer. “What happened, Naomi? Tell me.”
    No sense in lying, she saw. She sighed. “I – I just got an upsetting phone call.”
    “Upsetting how?”
    “My mother. She’s not well.”
    He stood right next to her now, his massive frame making her feel even smaller in her chair. She stood up, then wished that she hadn’t. That broad chest was smack in front of her, and all she saw was his strength and warmth – the two things that she craved the most right now.
    “Not well?” That rough voice was concerned, caring. “She’s in the hospital?”
    “No.” Naomi bit her lip. “She’s not well