Arrow to the Heart: A Dark Cupid Romance

Chapter 27

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I wasn't really paying attention when I came back from picking up my mail, so it took me a minute to figure out what I was hearing down the hall. Some woman was berating another, but who knows what about. And then the words resolved for me.

"...lack of decorum, the incessant talking, the thing with the rocks. You're pretty enough that someone could overlook your quirks."

The mention of rocks got my attention. And then I heard her voice. Bree.

My body started moving before my brain even caught up, and once I rounded the corner, I saw her standing there with an older blond woman in a dark blue sweater. Bree's shoulders are slumped and she seems to be looking for her keys while the woman peppers her with thinly veiled insults. It's a master manipulation that I might be impressed by if it wasn't directed at Bree. But it is, and it's brutal.

Fuck. I thought my world was violent, but I'd pick a knife fight over this conversation any day.

I tuck my mail into my back pocket as I read Bree, and her emotions are like a punch to the gut: she's miserable. She's hurting, doubting herself. The kind of effect only a parent seems to have on a person.

I read the woman next. She reeks of insecurity. She's jealous of Bree—it's clear as day. She wants desperately to be her, but she can't, so she'll settle for tearing her down.

"Who the fuck are you talking to her like that?" I ask, stopping in the center of the hallway a few feet from them.

The woman's eyes go wide and she gives me an incredulous look.

"Excuse me?" she says. "I'm her mother. Who are you?"

So this is Susan Logan, huh? Deep down, I figured it was her, but I was hoping it wasn't. Bree doesn't deserve this from anyone, let alone her own mother.

I never had parents. Not really. Not the way most people did. And I always imagined how different my life would be if I did. I wondered what it would be like to have someone looking out for me, someone I could go to for help. Growing up, it was the only thing I wanted.

But sometimes I think having shitty parents may be worse than not having any at all.

"I'm the guy telling her mother to fuck off," I say with a smirk.

Susan's mouth falls open, and I resist the urge to laugh out loud. If this woman were wearing pearls, I know for a fact she'd be clutching them in horror.

Bree just stands there, shocked, like she's at a total loss for what to do.

"Do you know this man?" she says to Bree in a hushed voice.

"I, uh..." Bree stutters. "Yeah, this is Declan. He lives down the hall, we're... friends."

"He lives here??" Her mom looks downright scandalized. "I thought this was a safe building."

She gives me a long once-over, taking in my hair and tattoos and piercings. I can only imagine how horrified she is that her daughter is fraternizing with a delinquent like me.

If only you knew everything she's been doing with this delinquent.

I struggle to stifle a laugh at the thought.

"Mom, he's a good person and he's my friend. This is just a misunderstanding..."

"Good people don't usually tell their friends' mothers to f-word off."