Lovely Trigger Read Free Page A

found out that Tristan hadn’t come because he hadn’t been invited.   Though he and Jerry were close, Bev hadn’t even considered it.  
    This was told to me by Bev.   When I looked baffled by her revelation, she laughed and patted me on the shoulder.  
    “Oh, my sweet girl.   If someone told you I don’t hold a grudge, they were lying .”
    Her eyes and her smile were so unlike her, so bloodthirsty, that I just stared.  
    “You’re doing great now.   You look spectacular, and I have every confidence that you will get what you want out of your life.   I couldn’t be more proud of you, but there will always be a very clear picture in my head, my dear, and it is the stuff of my nightmares.   I can close my eyes and remember how you looked, bleeding and broken in that hospital bed.   Heartbroken and abused.   Or of you those first few months after the accident.   So sad and lost.   I’m a loving woman.   You know this.   I love with all my heart, but a heart like mine works both ways, and there is a wrath in me.   I will never forget the state that man put you in.   You think I could enjoy a celebration if he was there, making you uncomfortable the entire time?   That’s not how I operate.   It will take more than a few paltry years before I can be civil to that man.”
    It was hard to know what to say to that , but strangely, her words warmed me a little.
    It would always feel good to have Bev in my corner.        

    I finally met my biological father face to face.   It was one of the most awkward moments of my life, but I can’t say I didn’t feel a bit of satisfaction by the end of it.  
    Bronson Giles was attending a gallery showing in L.A. with his oldest son, Dermot.   I’d heard somewhere that he was following in his dad’s acting footsteps.   He looked like a perfect younger image of his father, big, blond, and very handsome.    
    With my same eyes.  
    I think I was too completely dead to the idea of feeling anything for my father to have a reaction to him.   To see him, well, it was only a sort of vague discomfort.  
    Dermot, on the other hand, I had not expected.  
    The idea of a deadbeat dad was one thing.   The concept of a half-sibling, one that had no inkling that I existed, was something else.   It was very strange, but I found myself staring at him whenever he wandered close as they perused the art, trying to catch some kindness in him, some redemption.   I didn’t want to hate him.  
    In fact, I quite wanted to like him.    
    I wasn’t sure if Bronson thought it was him I was staring at, or if I just happened to catch his eye, but he watched me even more than I watched Dermot.  
    Finally, Bronson approached me directly.   I tensed up sure he’d caught the resemblance between me and my mother, who he’d obviously known well.  
    That wasn’t why he approached.   Well, I suppose it was a twisted version of that.   Marta was apparently his type, and being close to the spitting image of her, I suppose I was too.
    His smile dripped with greasy charm even before he opened his disgusting mouth.  
    Before he even got a word out, I had the thought: Oh God, no.   My own father is about to hit on me.
    Please, please, please, I thought, make this not actually be happening.    
    Who the fuck else had this kind of luck?  
    I didn’t even catch the first little bit that he said, more heard his tone, my mind reeling in horror.  
    It was just too much.   Even I couldn’t maintain my usual professional demeanor as I stood there and had the man that had sired me tell me how hot I was.  
    He didn’t even have good lines.   He’d been relying on his fame and money for way too long.  
    “So what do you say?”   He reached into his pocket, pulling out what looked like a hotel room key card.   “I keep a regular room at The Beverly Hills Hotel.   I can meet you there in three hours.   In the meantime, feel free to make yourself comfortable, order some