Read A Firm Hand: 2 (Bound to You) for Free Online Page B

you? Maybe we can watch a movie or something?”
    “That would be lovely. You better get going. Don’t want to keep your young man waiting.” She gave Gen’s arm a pat.
    “You going to be okay tonight?”Gen stood, smoothing out her skirt.
    “Don’t worry about me.” Her false grin back in place, she tapped the cover of her book. “I’ve got a mystery to solve.”
    Gen’s gaze drifted to the full ashtray. “I’m just going to empty this before I go,” she said, grabbing it off the glass endtable.
    “No, leave it. I can do that.”
    “It’s no trouble, really.” Gen walked to the kitchen, emptied it into the trash then washed her hands. She went back and set it down next to her mother. “See?”
    “I can take care of myself, you know.”
    “I know.” Gen kissed her quickly on the forehead. “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
    “Have fun, but be safe.”
    “I will. Bye, Mom,” she hollered on her way out the door.
    She closed it behind her and locked it with a sigh. Sick dread clung to her like a life-sucking parasite. She hated what her mother was doing to herself with every cell in her body, but knew she was powerless to change it. Things were the way they were. All Gen could do was live her life and hope her mother got the picture before something bad happened.
    Gen simply didn’t have the energy for this right now. Brian was waiting, a bright spot in her dreary existence. Or maybe it was a dark spot. Jesus, she had no idea what the hell it was.
    She drove toward the beach, Portishead blaring from the speakers. When she crossed the bridge, she lowered the windows, knowing full well it would blow her hair all to shit, but she didn’t care. The warm, salty breeze helped clear her head and did wonders for her mood. Brian lived only a mile or two from her apartment right on Gulf Boulevard. Judging from the address, his house was a few steps up from the dump she called home. Quite a few, she thought as she passed the sprawling waterfront homes. She paid careful attention to the numbers, searching for the correct one.
    Despite the soothing music, her anxiety jumped a notch when she reached her destination. She frowned, lowering the volume on the stereo as she turned into the driveway. She killed the engine then leaned forward to peer out her dirty windshield.
    Jesus.
    His house was enormous. Stark white with sharp angles, flowing curves and row after row of huge rectangular windows, it was a modern architectural masterpiece. Gen sat behind the wheel of her car in awe. Was this even the right house? She double-checked the address he’d given her. This was definitely the place.
    Get out of the car , walk up and ring the bell, you coward.
    So what if his home was worth more money than she would see in several lifetimes? It was just a house. She raked her fingers through her windblown hair, attempting to put it to rights, then grabbed her purse and got out of the car. On her way to the door, she searched her bag frantically for her breath spray. Fresh breath was always a plus. She squirted three quick bursts into her mouth before putting it away. Her eyes watered from the intense minty flavor. Blinking the moisture away, she took a deep breath and rang the doorbell with a shaky finger.
    Her heart pounded as she heard footsteps approach. A man she’d never seen before answered the door. He was dressed in a baby-blue polo shirt and black slacks. Judging by the laugh lines that bracketed his thin lips and accented his pale-blue eyes, she guessed he was somewhere in his forties. His dark-blond hair was neatly cut in a conservative style. He seemed polished, almost formal, but his warm, genuine smile put her at ease.
    “Ms. Hawthorn?”
    She nodded nervously.
    “Please come in. Master Brian is waiting for you in the salon.”
    Master Brian? The salon? Was this guy for real?
    “Would you like me to take your bag? I’ll just put it in the coat closet. If you need it, you have only to ask and I’ll retrieve