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Authors: Stella Cameron

BOOK: True Bliss
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"Why would they say such things if they aren't true?"

"Because they're scared their cushy lives may change with you around. A bit like Vic, maybe. Just not desperate or sick enough to commit crimes to get what they want."

Ron and Maryan waited for him in the vestibule. Sebastian closed Bliss inside the room and approached his sister. "You've got to go for treatment. You're an alcoholic. Among other things."

Her lips curled. "I'm the woman you've driven to drink. Give me what I've got a right to and I won't need the booze." She pointed to the door that separated them from Bliss. "She's dan-

gerous. She's one of those ball-breaking feminists. Women's Studies prof? What else could she be but a ball-breaker? It's her friend who wants to ruin us. Send her away, Seb."

He turned and heard Maryan's cry. She'd seen the condition of his shirt—and his back. "It's nothing," he said, starting up the stairs. "I had a little fall and messed up my shirt. I'm going to change."

She followed him to his bedroom and inside. Ron was at her heels but she signaled for him to wait outside. His jaw tightened, but he did what she wanted.

"I've given my life to you," Maryan said.

When he went into his closet, she did the same and slid the sliding door over the entrance.

"Don't do this," he told her, selecting a clean shirt. "Get some sleep."

"I could have been anything I wanted to be."

"You're probably right." Sebastian's temper thinned. "I never stopped you."

"I had to look after you. Mom and Dad hated me for not being a boy, but they hated you for not being the son they wanted."

"I know that," Sebastian said softly. "What's the point of dragging it up now?"

"I always loved you."

He stared at her. "You've been a good sister."

"I've given everything up for you."

"You've enjoyed everything I've been able to give you."

Her eyelids lowered slowly. "Without me, you'd never have found start-up capital."

"What does that mean? I had to scrounge for that money."

"Forget it." She jerked her head up. "I never married."

"You've never been without a man. If you didn't choose to marry, it was your decision."

"Marry? Marry? " She advanced on him, her thin face white, the skin stretched tight over the bones. "How could I marry anyone else."

Sebastian stopped in the act of putting on his shirt. "How

could you marry anyone else? Are you saying I somehow stood in the way of you marrying someone?"

Without warning, she launched herself, wrapped her arms around his neck, fastened her mouth over his.

Sebastian stumbled backward, caught his heel and fell. Maryan was on top and all over him.

"I wanted you." She panted, and pawed at him—pushed his shirt aside and ran her hands over his chest. "I love you. I've always loved you. I want you."

He choked down the bile that rose to his throat. "You're my sister."

"I'm not your fucking sister," she told him through her teeth. "You were adopted by my parents."

"You're my sister," Sebastian repeated. He pushed her off with ease, but when he rose to his knees she dragged on his shirt. "You're drunk, or you wouldn't be saying these things."

"I'm drunk because they're true." She pulled him, tried to draw him down on top of her. "Make love to me, Seb. Don't waste time on her. Love me. Let's get rid of them all and be alone."

He opened his mouth to breathe and took in the sour scent of old alcohol. With a sense of disbelief, and disgust, he jerked her hands from his shirt and stood up. "Get out," he told her. "Get out and never come back."

"Seb—"

"And take that little freak of yours with you. Or is he planning to tell me he's in love with me next? His fawning makes me sick. He'd sleep with anything if it paid enough, Maryan. Don't tell me you haven't figured that out."

"Seb, please." She fumbled for the waist of his jeans. "I can make you happy."

The weight of his horror galvanized him. "I never want to see you again," he said, pushing past her. "Send an address. I'll make sure you get your checks."

Twenty-eight

Sebastian stood in the doorway, staring at her. Pallor showed through his tan. "Come on," he said. "I want you out of here."

Bliss went to him. "What's happened?"

He held her hand and headed for the front door.

"Sebastian! Wait!" Ron York ran down the stairs. "Wait, for God's sake, man. You can't leave her like this."

Sebastian's shudder shocked Bliss. He didn't turn toward Ron, but he did hesitate.

"She's had too much to drink," Ron said, hovering on the bottom step. "Why don't you let me drive Bliss home while you see what you can do to make Maryan feel better?"

Sebastian raised his face and looked down at Bliss. "Never. I'm never leaving you to anyone else again. Maryan knows what she's got to do, York. Make sure you're both out of here before I come back."

They left the house to be met by Beater. The dog shambled from a side path with the big, orange rubber spider in his mouth. He spared Sebastian and Bliss a baleful glance before leaping into the bed of the Ford.

"Smart dog," Sebastian muttered. "Even he knows when the air's hazardous to his health."

"What happened?" Bliss asked again. "Sebastian?"

"I'll tell you. Later. I've got to deal with this in my own way first. Shit, now what?"

Coming too fast, a car swung into the driveway. Rubber screamed as it stopped inches from the front of the truck.

With a sense of disorientation, Bliss watched her mother push open the door of her Mercedes and scramble out. At first she didn't notice Sebastian and Bliss. When she did, she burst into tears.

"Mom? What is it?" Bliss started forward, taking Sebastian with her. "Is it Daddy?"

"I've done everything wrong," Kitten said through her sobs. "I went to that place and you weren't there. Then I went to his—to Sebastian's offices. The doorman said you'd left but he didn't know where you'd gone. I never thought I'd say thank God for Prue O'Leary. She gave me Sebastian's address."

From now on Prue O'Leary was part of Bliss's past.

"You're upset, Mrs. Winters," Sebastian said, not entirely unkindly.

"Yes," Kitten agreed. "I've never been this upset in my life. What with all the terrible things in the papers. Bliss, why didn't you let us know you were involved in a fire. You might have died."

The fear in her mother's voice stunned Bliss.

"The papers say you went to meet Crystal Plato. She wasn't there. How could you do such a foolish thing?"

Sebastian made a noise that might well be sympathetic to Kitten.

"Crystal wasn't there?" Bliss said. "How do you know?"

"Oh, I don't remember how I know," Kitten said. She clung to the door of the Mercedes. "Yes. The papers. One victim. Male. You went into a trailer with that awful man."

"But I'm fine," Bliss pointed out, squeezing Sebastian's hand. "And I'm glad Crystal wasn't there."

"Even though she probably set you up?" Sebastian said.

"We don't know that."

"She called you. Then she wasn't there. She hated her father, she probably hated you—"

"Sebastian," Kitten said, her voice high and thin. "I won't

blame you if you refuse, but will you please come to our home and allow Bliss's father and me to show you both how glad we are she's all right? And how glad we are you two have finally found each other?"

Sebastian coughed into a fist.

"Oh, Mom," Bliss said softly. Why did it take a near disaster to bring out the best in some people? "You're so upset. Sebastian, I think I'd better drive my mother home. She shouldn't drive herself."

A fresh gale of tears erupted from Kitten. "I—want you both to come. Now! I don't want to waste another minute. How am I ever going to forgive myself? Bliss?"

Bliss pushed the nosepiece of her glasses. No previous experience had readied her to deal with her mother in this mood.

"Drive your mother," Sebastian said evenly. "I'll follow and take you on to your place."

"Oh, thank you!" Kitten rushed toward Bliss, her arms outstretched. "Thank you both."

Once Kitten was safely stowed in the passenger seat of her car, Bliss set off, taking the road across the Evergreen Point floating bridge over Lake Washington and exiting near the University of Washington to get to Laurelhurst. She checked the rearview mirror frequently to make sure Sebastian was still behind them.

Her mother huddled against the door and sniffled.

The drive to Laurelhurst and the Winters's lakefront home was made in near silence. Once Bliss pulled to a stop in the circular driveway in front of the house, Kitten got out and hurried inside.

Bliss waited for Sebastian. "Crystal wasn't killed," she said when he joined her.

He turned his face up to a star-encrusted sky. "Seems that way from what your mother says. Will you understand if we don't make this a long, fond homecoming?"

"Fond?" She smothered a cynical laugh. "There was never

any affection here, but if Mother wants to try for peace, I think we should let her. I want to get out of here as much as you do."

She led him into the house, into the elegantly Asian living room from which she could hear her parents' raised voices.

Conversation ceased the instant Morris Winters saw Sebastian and Bliss. He showed them his back and concentrated on the mirror-black windows overlooking the lake.

Kitten wound her fingers together. Her blue cotton sweater bagged at the bottom over a denim skirt with an unraveling hem. Without makeup, she was a tired-looking woman on the wrong side of middle-age. Her darting eyes showed she was also a desperate woman.

"Dad," Bliss said. "We're here because Mom told us you both wanted to see us."

After a long pause, Morris said, "Your mother is impulsive. I thought she'd learned the consequences of that. Evidently I was wrong."

"Okay," Sebastian said, pulling out his keys. "We're out of here, Bliss. Good night to you both."

"No!" Kitten said. "Morris, listen to me. This can all work out, I tell you. Just do what you said. Make sure they understand. Everything will work out."

The man spun to face them. He stared from Bliss to Sebastian and back, then prowled the room. "You aren't going to get in my way, do you understand?"

Bliss's hand went to her throat.

"Morris—"

"Shut your Goddamn mouth, woman," Morris said to his wife. "Shut up all of you."

"Come on," Sebastian said. "Time to go home."

"I told you to shut up!" Morris's eyes flamed. Nerves beside his eyes twitched. "Shut up!"

Sebastian moved toward him.

"Get over there," Morris yelled. He raised his right hand and pointed a gun at Sebastian. "Do as you're told. This is going to go one way—my way. I've fought too hard and put up with too

much to fail because of this fool." He pointed the weapon at Kitten.

Bliss swallowed a scream. "Daddy!"

"Don't call me that," Morris Winters said. He inclined his head toward Kitten. "Ask her why you shouldn't call me that."

"Shit," Sebastian said under his breath. "Look, Winters. Let's all calm down. And let's not say or do things we're all likely to regret."

"My wife screwed around on me," Morris said, sneering at Kitten. "The little bastard she had was the result. But we've had an agreement. If she didn't do anything to mess with my career, I wouldn't do anything to mess with her precious reputation."

Bliss sat on the nearest chair.

"I said I'd get rid of it, Morris," Kitten said. Her mouth remained slack. "It was you who said I couldn't."

"Because the Goddamn quack you went to was a friend of my folks and he couldn't wait to congratulate them, or me."

"That's enough," Sebastian said quietly. "We're no part of any of this."

It. Her mother had offered to get rid of "it." Bliss closed her eyes.

"If the Moore girl had been there, this would all be over," Kitten wailed. "How was I to know she wouldn't be there?"

Bliss heard the words but they no longer made sense.

"Be quiet," Morris ordered. "Don't come any nearer, Plato."

"I did it for you," Kitten said. "As soon as Bliss told me where she was going, I knew what I was meant to do."

Morris laughed horribly. "But you screwed it up, didn't you? Again? Crystal wasn't there at all, and Bliss got out. All you got rid of was the old man, you stupid cow."

Bliss opened her eyes. Her mother? Her own mother had tried to burn her to death?

Her father wasn't her father?

Her mother had murdered a man?

"Bliss wasn't supposed to die," Kitten said. "Just that man and the girl. With them gone we'd be happy—"

"You're not taking me down," Morris said, too quietly. He waved the gun. "Get over here, Kitten. Beside me. She's finally going to do something useful." His eyes narrowed in Bliss's direction.

Kitten walked toward him like a woman asleep. "I did it for you," she said. "I did it for you, Morris. For us. And I've done what you wanted tonight. I've brought them here. Tell him. Tell Plato he's got to get out of Washington."

"Not good enough." Morris's face convulsed. "I'm going to kill them."

Bliss couldn't move. Sebastian stood quite still, but he stared at her, shook his head slightly.

She didn't know what he was trying to tell her.

"Him first," Morris said. "Then her. She'll have committed suicide. She was always unbalanced. She's always done things to hurt us. Tonight she came to laugh at me. This was celebration time because she'd publicly declared she was fucking the enemy. But she's going to crack up and kill him when he tries to stop her from killing herself."

"Morris!" Kitten fell to her knees and covered her head. "Please, Morris. They'll say we did it."

"Bitch," Morris said, shaking with rage. "She's going to kill you, too. And wound me."

"No, she's not." Kitten turned her ashen, sweat-slick face up to his. "How would she do that?"

Morris laughed. He tipped back his head and laughed. "No she's not," he mimicked. "Stupid cow! Of course she's not. But that's how it'll look. And the people will love me for my bravery in the face of family agony. My wife and child dead at my child's hands. The wound I suffer at my child's hands."

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