Suzie watched her. “How could she do such a thing?”
“Later, I heard that she’d been pretty drunk that night.”
“But that doesn’t explain how a mother could treat her child that way.” Suzie shook her head. “That was . . . inhuman.”
Danielle found herself blinking back tears. She’d lived with this a long time, thought that she was over it . . . or at least immune to the emotional turmoil remembering the event used to cause her. But clearly that wasn’t true.
“What happened?” Suzie asked. “Did she finally let you back in?”
Danielle shook her head. “After a while, a neighbor heard me. She came to see if I was okay.”
Danielle had backed away, screaming, when the woman had tried to approach her. The poor woman had been frantic to help this scared little girl. She kept saying she just wanted to help, but Danielle had been too frantic . . . too frightened.
“I guess she called someone. I don’t really remember.” She did remember that the woman had stood about twenty yards away, keeping an eye on her. “Not long after that, the police showed up.”
That had terrified her even more. She’d thought they’d come to arrest her and that they’d throw her into a dark jail cell.
“I don’t really remember much after that, except . . . when I finally saw my mother again . . . years later . . .” Danielle’s fists clenched by her sides. “She told me she was glad they took me away. I’d always been a pain in the ass to her and she was glad to be rid of me.”
“She actually said that?” Suzie asked, her eyes gleaming.
Danielle simply nodded, wondering why in hell she had revealed that.
Suzie stepped toward her and gathered Danielle in her arms.
“I can’t believe a mother would do that to a small child. That she would do that to you.”
Danielle stood stiffly in Suzie’s warm embrace. A part of her wanted to relax into the comforting warmth the woman offered her . . . but she couldn’t. Remembering her mother brought it all back. The reality was that she was alone in this life . . . and she had to remember that. It wasn’t safe to let anyone get close. She couldn’t let herself rely on anyone.
“I wish I had been there.” Suzie stroked Danielle’s back. “I wish I could have held you when you were that little child and told you how special you are.”
At those words, tears prickled at Danielle’s eyes again.
How different would her life have been if she’d had someone who’d really cared about her? If she’d had someone who would have held her when she’d cried? Who would have really cared when she’d been hurting?
Who would have loved her.
But she hadn’t, and there was no point crying over what she couldn’t change. She blinked back the tears.
“What’s going on?”
Seventeen
At Trey’s voice behind her, Danielle drew herself from Suzie’s arms. She carefully turned away from Trey so he couldn’t see her expression nor the single tear that had escaped despite her resolve.
“Nothing.” She stroked her hair behind her ear, dashing away the tear in the process. “I’m going to head to bed now.” She strode to the hallway and escaped toward the bedroom.
“Trey.” Suzie’s voice stopped Trey as he started to follow Danielle.
Danielle slipped into the room and closed the door behind her.
She sat down on the bed and fought back the overwhelming emotions flooding through her at the unwelcome memories. Damn it, she’d thought she’d put all these feelings behind her.
A few moments later, a light tap sounded at the door.
“Danielle, it’s Trey. May I come in?”
Damn it. Why couldn’t he leave her alone?
“Danielle?”
She cleared her throat, knowing she’d have to answer him.
“Yes.” Thankfully, the word came out clearly . . . not a croak as she’d feared.
The door opened and Trey stepped inside, his expression one of concern. He closed the door and approached the bed.
“Suzie told me about your conversation.” He sat beside her, concern simmering in his warm brown eyes. “I knew you were in foster care but . . .” He rested his hand on her arm and she fought her instinctive reaction to pull it away. “I had no idea how your mother had . . .” He hesitated, watching her carefully, his expression sympathetic. “How difficult it was for you.”
She simply nodded in acknowledgment.
“I should have asked. I wish I had.” His lips pursed. “I just didn’t want to pry.”
“It’s okay.” Her voice came out hoarse.
“Not that I’m saying Suzie was prying,” he went on. “She just naturally asks questions. Because she cares.”
Danielle nodded again.
He curled his fingers around her hand. “Are you okay?”
She didn’t utter a word, needing all her attention to keep it together.
When she didn’t answer, he squeezed her hand, then kissed it. “Danielle? I wish you’d say something.”
She sucked in a deep breath, ready to assure him that everything was just fine.
“I’m—”
Her voice cracked, and Trey’s heart crumbled. Her eyes were awash with unshed tears and she looked so very . . . vulnerable.
“Oh, sweetheart.” He drew her into his arms and held her close.
She sat stiff in his embrace, clearly fighting the overwhelming pain showing in her tortured eyes. Gently, he drew her head against his shoulder, cradling it there with one hand while he held her close with the other.
The thought of her as a small child . . . thrown out into the night . . . terrified and frightened . . . gnawed at him. How could any mother do that to her own child? No wonder Danielle never allowed herself to get close to anyone. To depend on anyone. The one person whom she should have been able to depend on without question . . . who should have loved her unconditionally . . . had betrayed her completely.
“You should never have been treated
