Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 102929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
“I’m still your mothe—”
Without warning, I lifted her in the air and threw her over my shoulder as if she weighed nothing, before rushing back into the house. We weren’t doing this outside, and I knew she’d try to run from me the second it became too hard. She’d do anything to avoid what she knew was coming from me. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d take off, but it would be the last, except this time, she wasn’t going to leave without hearing everything I had to say.
This would be the first and last time I’d say it to her. After this, I’d be through with her. No more.
I was done.
Finished.
Game fucking over.
I was putting an end to it all.
“Julius, put me down!” she ordered. “What are you doing?!”
I didn't falter. “Not a problem!” I slammed her ass down onto the kitchen island stool before crouching down to lean in close to her face. Close enough, she could feel the venom from my tongue.
Glaring deep into her vacant eyes for the first time in years, I looked past her demons, needing to see the real woman staring back at me. I needed to feel her on every inch of my skin. It was the only way I’d be able to get rid of her.
The mother I once wanted was in my mind, buried under all the pain. Hidden behind all the happy memories that had become my worst nightmares.
Escaping, be back in ten, that became seven years.
The cold, brutal realization hit me right then and there. At the end of the day, she’d always be my mother, the woman who gave me life.
“Do you even care?” I asked, needing to hear the truth. “Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to see you? Or how bad it hurts that I’m looking at you right now, and I have no idea who this woman is staring back at me? She’s not my mother,” I confessed, leaning back on the heels of my boots, shaking my head.
Her eyes quickly glazed over. My words hit her hard, breaking through the facade that everything was perfect. Last night was my last straw. She couldn’t do that to Isla and get away with it. Not on my watch.
Giving into the rage, I spewed, “There are days that hurt so bad that you weren’t here that it felt like I was dying… I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. Hanging on by a thread, trying to take care of my little brother, who wasn’t much younger than I was. I had to feed him, clothe him, provide for him… for fuck’s sake, Melody. I was twelve years old. I was a kid. A child raising a child. Your son!”
Her lips trembled.
“I had to drop out of school to pay the bills. You have no idea what I’ve had to do to pay the mortgage, put food on the table, and make sure CPS stayed off our asses, so Kraven and I wouldn’t be split up because I couldn’t lose him, too.”
Her eyes brimmed with tears as she relived what I was sharing.
“I had no life outside of making sure we keep a roof over our heads until Isla came along, and all you’ve done is make us argue since you decided to show back up and play mother of the year.”
“I… I… I…”
“You what? Huh? You want to apologize again? You want to beg me for forgiveness this time on your hands and knees? What is it that you want from us that you haven’t already stolen? We’re nothing more than the toys you leave behind in the backyard. You play with us when you want and then throw us away just as easily.”
“Julius, I love—”
“Don’t you fucking dare!”
She wept, pissing me off further.
In one roar, I snapped, “I’m not your son anymore, Melody. I never was. I don’t have love for you. Do you understand me? Are you hearing me? Because I don’t fucking love you! You mean nothing to me! Nothing! In fact…” I leaned forward, close to her face. With no hesitation, I added, “I fucking hate you.”
She cried with a low sob. The consequences she’d have to pay. It was all there, right there in front of her.
Me.
Lost in my own thoughts, in my own conviction, I fumed, “This is my life, Melody. There’s no turning back for me. You stole my childhood. Seven. Fucking. Years.”
Tears rolled down the sides of her face, and I counted each one.
“For years, I made excuses for you, and I just couldn’t do it anymore,” I scoffed out, pausing to let my words sink in. “You will always be nothing but a drunk, an addict, a sorry-ass excuse for a mother. We deserved better than you and so did Isla.”
Her chest rising and falling, contemplating what to say. I could see her mind spinning out of control. Opening her mouth to say something, but nothing came out.