Chapter 17

Iyla

I passed all of my midterms.

Mom: Grade?

A’s on everything.

Mom: Good. I’ll pick you up for dinner at 6 on Friday.

I’D JUST GOTTEN MY GRADES for the midterms, and I was over the moon to learn that I’d aced all of them. It wasn’t really the score I cared about, but the reward I got for getting that score. A night with my mom. I was excited for this chance to spend time with her.

But also apprehensive.

Zagan’s drawing on my leg and his words about having to fight for my mom’s time had gotten into my head, which I was pretty sure was his goal. Just like at the club, I questioned my mother and the control she had over every facet of my life. I was back to thinking that I needed to at least talk to her and see if I could gain a bit more freedom.

I pulled up Zagan’s contact on my phone. He’d noticed at one point when I’d been over in the past week for one of our many sex meet-ups that I still hadn’t saved his number. He’d immediately changed it to, “Demon Daddy,” which I then swiftly changed to, “Mr. Ego.”

He was in New York at the moment for some dance classes he was helping with and some shows he was doing with his band. I wasn’t sure if he was busy right now, but he’d wanted me to call him when I got my grades. Apparently, he was invested in them since he’d declared himself my study buddy.

The phone rang three times before his voice filled the other end. “Sparrow.”

“Mr. Ego,” I greeted. “What are you doing? Were you busy?”

It sounded loud on the other end, but he said, “Nah. Just trying to record a new song with everyone.”

“Oh, crap. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“No, you’re good.” It sounded like a door shut and the other end got quieter as if he’d stepped out of the room. “I’m honestly glad to get away from it for a minute. It’s not … I don’t know.” He sighed. “It’s a mess, but whatever. It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that you called, and I’m assuming it’s not because you missed me and just needed to hear my voice.”

I smiled at the teasing lilt in his tone. “Aww. You disappointed that’s not why I called?”

“Heartbroken,” he answered. “So how’d you do? What were your final grades?”

I let the silence hang, leaving him to stew in the uncertainty.

“Iyla,” he warned.

“I got A’s on all of them.”

“Hell yeah!” Zagan cheered, and it sounded like he was smiling. “I knew you would.”

Excitement bubbled up inside me like a soda can about to pop. The reaction to his praise was unexpected but not unpleasant. “I appreciate you helping me study. It helped a lot.”

“Of course. What are friends for?”

I pressed my lips together to keep my smile contained. Ever since we declared the status of our friendship, he’d been referring to us as that every chance he got, like he was still getting a feel for the word and what it meant. Even though he’d said he didn’t know what it meant to be friends, I actually found him to be a good one. He instilled a certain confidence in me that I’d just never had before. And he let me forget my worries and just have fun, which was priceless in my rigid, strict life.

“Did you tell your mom?” he asked.

I plucked at nonexistent lint on my pants. “Yeah. She said she’ll pick me up for dinner at six this Friday.”

He made a sound like he was acknowledging something he didn’t like. “Are you going to try talking to her during the dinner?”

A heavy weight settled in my gut, suppressing the glee. The two of us had come up with a plan for me to talk to Mom during this meal since I didn’t have many opportunities to do it any other time.

“Yeah,” I answered reluctantly. “I’m gonna try.”

“Good.” There was a sudden burst of commotion on the other end of the line, and Zagan cursed under his breath. “Sorry, Iyla. I’ve gotta go. They need me back in there.”

“No worries. I hope the new song comes out good.”

“Doubtful,” he grumbled before hanging up.

With the loss of his voice, my silent apartment became my sole company. Nahla was in class right now, and Gemma had appointments all day. I slumped in my chair with a lonely sigh.

I wish Zagan was here.

My eyes widened, and I sat up straighter as soon as the thought entered my mind. What was I thinking? Had I really come to crave and miss the demon’s presence?

With a small smile, I realized, yeah. I did. I missed my friend.

FRIDAY CREPT UP ON ME, and now that it was time to go out with Mom, nerves burrowed deep into my skin. I’d hyped myself up to talk and speak my mind about what I wanted—a bit more privacy, the freedom to eat and dress how I wanted, the choice to listen to music again—but now that she was on her way to get me, I was ready to jump ship. I paced my living room in my pleated pants and crisp blouse as I chewed on my thumb nail.

“You can do it,” I chanted to myself. “It’s just talking. You can talk to your mom.”

My lunch from hours earlier threatened to come back up.

I can’t do this.

Zagan was still in New York. I had no idea what he was doing right now, but before I could think about what I was doing, I reached for my phone to call him. I needed his deep, sultry voice to calm me down before I paced a hole right through my floorboards.

“Zagan’s phone,” a chipper male voice answered. It took me a moment to recognize it as Xander.

“Um—”

A shuffle erupted, and I heard Zagan’s distant voice demanding his phone back. After a few seconds of major commotion, Zagan finally said, “Iyla? Sorry about that. Xander took my phone.”

I closed my eyes and waved my hand dismissively, even though he couldn’t see me. I had bigger worries than Xander. “I can’t do it, Zagan. I’m freaking out. I—I’m just going to go through dinner how we normally would. In silence.”

“Hey, hey. Deep breath. You’re psyching yourself out. You’re the one who said you wanted to be free, remember? This isn’t free, Iyla. It’s fear .”

I worked to calm my breathing like he said, and hearing his voice helped to get my sporadic heartbeat a bit more under control. It didn’t stop the anxiety crashing through me, however.

“I—”

My phone chimed in my ear. I pulled it away to look at the notification, and my stomach plummeted when I saw the text from my mom.

“Oh god, she’s here,” I shrieked in a panic.

“You can do this, Iyla,” Zagan encouraged calmly. “You can talk to her.”

“I wish you were here,” I groaned, holding my head. The air lodged in my throat when I realized what I’d just said, and I slapped my hand over my mouth. “I mean … I … you know … bye.”

I hung up and stared at the end call screen. I couldn’t believe I’d just said that to him. Our friendship was still new, and I wasn’t sure how to feel just yet about how easy and comfortable I felt with him. So to admit that being around him made me feel better was kinda embarrassing.

I pushed that mortification down as I took a deep breath and prepared to walk downstairs to meet my mom. It was amazing how I’d gone from being so excited to spend time with her to making myself a trembling, sweating idiot over it. That was my sign that talking about my future and potential slack in rules wasn’t an option.

I made my way downstairs and outside to where Mom’s car sat idle by the curb. I climbed in and offered her a smile. “Hey. Thanks for picking me up.”

She nodded and pulled away from the curb. “I hope you’re hungry. I’m taking you to that new restaurant that just opened downtown.”

The place she referred to was a new local high end eatery that had a variety of food. My chest warmed when I realized she was taking me to such a nice place, and it made relaxing in my seat easier. I couldn’t remember the last time Mom had done something so thoughtful for me.

“That sounds wonderful. Thanks, Mom.”

The car fell quiet with only the sounds of exterior traffic filling the space. I swallowed and twiddled my thumbs in my lap as I searched for something to say. It was typical for our car rides to be quiet, but this was a special day. I wanted things to be different today and maybe even change how we interacted with each other in the future. Her decision to take me somewhere nice only fueled that hope.

“How was work?” I asked.

She glanced at me then focused on the road again. “Busy.”

I waited for her to elaborate, but nothing more came. All I got was the one word, but hey, that was one more word than what we’d usually share.

Baby steps.

After twenty minutes, we pulled up to the brick restaurant. I walked alongside my mom in her cream pantsuit. Her hair was pulled back in a perfect French twist with not a single strand out of place. I’d tried to put on my own dignified outfit to impress her, but I had no idea if it worked. She hadn’t complained about what I wore, so I assumed that meant I’d succeeded.

The hostess greeted us, confirmed our reservation, and immediately led us into the packed, dimly lit dining room. Mom and I took our seats at a table off to the side.

“What can I get you two to drink?” the waiter asked.

“Water for the both of us, please,” Mom answered for us.

I smiled at the waiter in lieu of a response since she’d made one for me, and as I watched his retreating back, a new party being led into the dining hall caught my attention. It was a good thing Mom was studying her menu, otherwise she would’ve seen me nearly topple out of my chair as my jaw hit the floor.

Zagan took a seat in a booth behind my mom’s chair so that he was to her back but facing me. He immediately caught my wide eyes and winked with a smirk.

I looked at my mom and cleared the urgency from my throat. “I’m going to run to the restroom quickly. I’ll be right back.”

She briefly glanced up at me before refocusing on the menu. “Hurry, please.”

I stood and shot Zagan a pointed look as I passed his booth and swept down the hallway that led to the bathrooms. When I turned around, Zagan was there in his black dress pants and shirt with a wide grin.

“What are you doing here?” I hissed, grabbing the waist of his shirt to pull him further into the hallway. We were well out of view of Mom and the rest of the dining hall, but the fear of her seeing us still horrified me. “How did you get here? I thought you were in New York.”

“I was in New York,” he said, dropping his voice so only the two of us could hear. His large hand lightly touched the underside of my arm that desperately held onto him. “I can be anywhere I want in the blink of an eye. You know that.”

My eyes raked over him. He looked amazing , and I’d love more time to appreciate the way the formal clothes hugged his toned form or the way his tattoos peaked out of the sleeves, but now wasn’t the time. Didn’t stop the sight from making my blood run hotter.

“What are you doing here, though?” I repeated.

“You said you wanted me here.”

My heart tripped over itself. I stared up at him as unexpected warmth blossomed in my chest. “You—You stopped what you were doing to be here for me?”

He tilted his head slightly as if he wasn’t sure why I had to ask. “Yes.”

“Why?” I whispered, squeezing his shirt tighter.

“Because you said you wanted me here,” he said again with a soft chuckle. His head dipped lower, making the space between us even smaller for him to whisper, “Why wouldn’t I come?”

He said it like it was obvious, like it was the only thing that made sense. Maybe it really was that simple for him, but I couldn’t wrap my mind around someone dropping everything they were doing just to come support me when I needed it. Yet he’d done that without hesitation. My heart pounded furiously as a sweet buzz wrapped around it.

“Thank you,” I said, finally releasing his shirt.

“Don’t thank me. I’m doing it for purely selfish reasons. I’m trying to upgrade from friend to best friend.”

I covered my mouth with my fingers to stifle my laugh. “Nahla might fight you on that one.”

He shrugged. “I think I can take her. Now get back out there. I know you really want this. Even if she doesn’t deserve your time. Just … be yourself. Don’t shy away from who you are and what you want. Okay?”

I licked my suddenly dry lips and nodded. Zagan sent me back out first, and I sat in my seat as calmly as I could.

Mom barely held back a glare as she watched me sit. Her mauve painted lips were pulled down in a frown. “I had to send the waiter back without giving our order because you weren’t here.”

“Sorry. There was a small line,” I fibbed.

The restaurant was busy enough that the lie seemed plausible. Zagan came out of the hallway and went back to his booth, and I wasn’t the only one who noticed. Patrons threw star-struck glances his way, no doubt recognizing him from Sinners Do It Better. He ignored all the adoring smiles and whispers, though, focusing on me over Mom’s shoulder. He offered me an encouraging smile. The comfort his presence brought made it easier to sit across from my mom.

Be yourself.

What a seemingly easy yet horrifying idea. Still, with the way Zagan encouraged me, being more open and honest with myself and my mother seemed possible. Especially with him right there. It was crazy how brave I felt with the demon close by.

“So, what will you have?” Mom asked me.

I scanned the menu and all its delicious options. I figured this was a good time to practice my speaking-up-for-what-I-wanted skills. “Since it’s a special occasion, I thought I might have something a little different. Maybe like the shrimp linguini.”

Mom scoffed and sipped on her water. “Don’t be ridiculous. You know you gain weight at the drop of a hat, Iyla. Do you want to get fat?”

I blinked, already feeling myself get smaller. “I—”

“Attorneys pride ourselves on how we look. Our appearance and how we hold ourselves in the courtroom is half the battle of winning. No one wants to see you busting at the seams when arguing your case, all because you couldn’t say no to pasta.”

Sand filled my mouth, and it took me multiple times to swallow down the feeling. My arms subconsciously wrapped around my pudgy middle, and I tried to let her jabs roll right off me. It wasn’t like I hadn’t heard them before. It was why she controlled what groceries came in and out of my house. She never let me forget my weight.

Without meaning to, I glanced at Zagan over her shoulder. His glass was paused halfway to his mouth, and his eyes lasered into the back of my mom’s head. The blue of his eyes churned with the threat of going black, but when his gaze flicked to meet mine, they calmed, like thunderclouds receding. He sat his glass down and dipped his head in silent encouragement. The message was clear.

Stand up for yourself. Tell her you want the food, so you’re having the food.

The waiter appeared then to take our orders just as a trio of girls approached Zagan’s table with a napkin and pen—most likely seeking the star’s autograph. I refocused on my own situation and opened my mouth, prepared to order what I wanted, despite my mom’s disagreement, but the quiet words that came out were, “I’ll take the strawberry salad, please.”

“Great choice!” the waiter said. He took Mom’s order then whisked away with our menus.

With our order complete and nothing else to do, Mom went to observing the room—because Heaven forbid she actually talk to me.

I took the moment to look at Zagan, trying to gauge if he’d seen my failure amid his fan interaction. My stomach churned when I saw him staring past the three girls—who still hovered around his table—with a tight frown pulling his mouth down. I nibbled my lip as shame flooded me.

It probably made no sense to outsiders looking in. I was an adult. I should be able to speak my mind and to express myself without issue.

But Mom had broken that voice inside me a long time ago.

After years of trying and always failing in her eyes, after years of yearning for her attention only to be met with indifference, after years of having my opinion smothered, I didn’t know how to speak to her about anything real .

But I wanted to.

I wanted to understand her and have her understand me. I wanted a relationship that we both cherished. Maybe appealing to her own desires in life could be a gateway to helping her understand mine.

Needing a change for us, I sat up a bit straighter in my chair and focused on her. “Mom. I was thinking about you the other day and realized I don’t know how you got into law. What made you want to be an attorney?”

She finished off another sip of water and folded her hands on the tabletop. If a stranger were to look at us, they’d definitely see a business meeting instead of a mother-daughter pair out to celebrate.

“I wanted success,” she answered. “Authority. Respect. It was a career that offered those things, so naturally, it was what I chose.”

I smiled, happy to get more insight into her. “So that was your dream?”

Mom’s brow creased in the middle, and her mouth flattened. “Dream?”

“Yeah. Your dream job. It—”

“Iyla.”

The quick snap of my name instantly made my blood run cold and had my voice breaking off in my throat.

“I know what you’re doing,” Mom said as she openly glowered at me. “Stop. You’re an adult, not some child. Dreams are for sleeping. This is real life. I don’t want to hear any nonsense about dreams or piano. Do you understand me? I’ve brought you to this nice restaurant to celebrate your success, and this is how you want to behave? Bringing up issues we’ve had before and already settled?”

I shook my head. “I wasn’t trying to upset you. I just—”

“That’s enough . I won’t hear another word.”

The cracks that always resided inside me, the ones that I’d deluded myself into refilling with hope, split open all over again. I wanted to cry, but I was so used to this that the tears wouldn’t come. I should’ve expected this reaction. I did expect this reaction. But Zagan’s enthusiasm had been infectious, and I’d somehow latched onto it and convinced myself that it was possible. My mom would hear me, and she’d accept me.

How wrong I’d been.

I swallowed down the hurt and lowered my eyes to the table. “Yes, ma’am.”

Mom and I didn’t say another word the rest of the evening, and I couldn’t find the courage to look at Zagan again.