Solitude (Artistic Pricks Ink #3) Read Online Free PDF Page A

questions I don’t want to ask, but know they are waiting for.
    Ma’s eyes go to her watch, immediately misting over as they usually do. William covers her hand with his, stroking the inside of her wrist with his thumb. Meeting my eyes, he shakes his head. “No, I didn’t. From what Hannah told me, I know he was a great man, Mitchell.” Leaning over, he presses a kiss to her temple. Even though I know the right thing to do is shake his hand and tell my Ma I am happy for her, I can’t. The intimacy between them makes my heart ache. “Your Ma says you’re a lot like him.”
    “I wouldn’t know,” I bite out, my eyes locked on their hands now. “He died before we got that whole father-son bonding shit in. Good thing I’m way too old for it now, saves you from goin’ to the unnecessary trouble.”
    “Mitchell!” Ma shouts, slamming her free hand down on the table. “That’s enough.”
    “It’s okay, Hannah,” William says, soothingly. “Why when I lost my Sharon I was poor company for a long time.” Turning his eyes to me, he smiles sadly. “I know your pain, son. I’ve felt that loss. You can’t let it swallow you whole. You’re young and have so much life left. There are places you can go, people you can talk to about what has happened. I mean, taking a life couldn’t have been easy on you either.”
    The fuck?
    “Death isn’t picky. It doesn’t see age, social status, or any of the political bullshit that we do, William. It sure as hell won’t sit around and wait to come take us until we’re warm and snug in our beds at the ripe old age of one-hundred-and-five,” I argue, coolly. “It sees blood and a body count. Leaving devastation for those of us who are allowed to see another day.”
    Pushing my plate away, I stand to my feet. My blood boils at the audacity of this smug asshole who thinks he knows everything about me, just from listening to my mother ramble. How dare he insert himself into my life and take a side on something he knows nothing about. I look from him to Ma and back again, unable to comprehend how she could be so open with private parts of my life to a stranger. It hurts and it pisses me off to know that she is able to discuss my most painful moments so easily.
    ‘Hi, I’m Hannah Taylor. My son is a wreck over watching his fiancé die and then shooting some lunatic a year later, could you pass the creamer?’
    Who the hell does this shit?
    “Sorry that I can’t stay for the dinner and intervention you’ve planned, but I’ve gotta head back.” Walking over, I lean down and press a kiss to her cheek.
    “I apologize. I can tell that I’ve said something that’s upset you,” William says, but I don’t acknowledge him. “I’m afraid we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot here and that’s the last thing I wanted to do the first time we met. I care about your mother and know how badly she hurts because you do. I just wanted to help.”
    “No,” my mother argues, waving him off. “This has been coming and isn’t your fault, sweetheart. Truth be told, I’ve held my tongue long enough.” She looks up at me and shakes her head. “How long are you going to hide behind losing Becky, Mitch? You’re using her death as an excuse to keep from living.” Her accusation slams into me, stealing my breath.
    “Ma,” I warn, trying to keep from losing my temper. Becky is a hot button topic for me and she knows it. Why the fuck is she doing this to me and in front of this guy?
    “I’m not finished, Mitchell Aaron Taylor,” she interrupts, holding up her hand. “You’ve shut me out, your own mother. Do you know that her grandfather, Frank, calls me to make sure you’re still alive and has to relay that to everyone else in Fallon, because you’re too much of a coward to go back and visit, or even answer your phone when they call you? No one knows what to do with you anymore. Not me, and especially not Luke.” Standing to her feet, she slaps me in the chest. “You’re