Mom was whimpering into the phone. “Hawke, please.” She didn’t need to say anything else. The calls were always the same. She needed to call the police or move in with me but she never did. Every time my dad apologized, she took him back like an idiot.
Why should I help her when this kept happening? I’d already been the subject of his torments, and now that I wasn’t there, my mom was the only target when he was drinking. Instead of letting him do whatever he wanted, she should be strong and stand up for herself.
But that would never happen.
It didn’t matter how much she irritated me. It didn’t matter how many times she called me. I had to help her.
Because I was afraid of what would happen if I didn’t.
***
This time, Dad had a bat. He was breaking down the bathroom door when I arrived. He screamed incoherent things and threatened to kill her. To anyone else, he would be terrifying.
But he didn’t scare me.
I grabbed a vase from the table then slammed it hard against the back of his head. He immediately crumbled into a ball on the floor, his eyes closed. I stared down at him as the silence echoed. All I had to do was bash his head open and I wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore. Mom would be free. She could collect the life insurance and move on.
I could make it look like an accident.
But I wasn’t a murderer. I was already tainted with darkness. If I did it, I would be poisoned for the rest of my life. I’d be caught and thrown in jail, and all my dreams would be gone forever.
Mom opened the door, or what was left of it. When she realized he was knocked out cold, she breathed a sigh of relief and clutched her chest. But then she winced like she was in pain.
“Mom, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” She dabbed at her eyes.
I spotted the bruises along her forearm. “He hurt you.” I grabbed her hand and examined the injury. My blood boiled at the sight. She usually managed not to get hurt during his drunken fights. But tonight she didn’t escape his violence.
“He grabbed me…it was an accident.”
“No, it wasn’t.” How long would she rationalize this stupidity?
She pulled her sleeve down so the marks were hidden. “I’m fine. Really.”
I wanted to smack her myself. “Let’s go.”
She eyed my dad before she stepped around him.
***
I didn’t realize the unpleasant situation I was in until we walked into the apartment. Francesca was still asleep, but how would I explain why my mother was there in the morning? How could I hide the two women from each other?
Mom sat at the kitchen table and winced when she moved her arm.
“Let’s go to the hospital.”
“No.” She was just as stubborn as I was.
“Something could be broken.”
“Nothing is.” She wouldn’t make eye contact with me.
I placed some water in front of her before I sat across the table. “This can’t go on any longer. We need to get the police involved.”
A glossy look came into her eyes. “It only happens once in a while.”
“It shouldn’t happen at all.” My temper was rising and the heat was flushing my face.
“He’s a good man—”
“He used to strangle me with a belt.” How could she sit there and defend him? “He used to slam my hand in the back door. Don’t sit there and tell me he’s a good man. He’s a pathetic excuse for a human being.” I tried to keep my voice down but it was a struggle. There was too much pain to keep it back.
“I know…” She trailed off like she had nothing to say.
“Move in with me.” Living with my mom wasn’t my ideal living situation, but I was the only one who could protect her. I trusted myself over the police. “He can’t hurt you while I’m here.” I used to be terrified of my father but now it was the other way around.
She shook her head. “Theodore Jr.—”
“Don’t. Call. Me. That.” I slammed my fist down on the table and almost broke it. “This has gone on long enough. One of these days, he’s really going to hurt you. And one day, he might kill you.”
She didn’t meet my gaze.
“How can you keep going back to him?”
“You wouldn’t understand…”
“You’re right,” I snapped. “I don’t understand. Just leave him. I can protect you. You don’t need to suffer anymore.”
“He’ll come after me.”
“I’d like to see him try.”
Her voice broke. “He isn’t like that all the time. Things are good—”
“Until he has too much to drink and then it goes bad.”
Her eyes finally met mine.
“You will die this way unless you change it. My doors are always open.”
“I know, sweetheart. You’re such a good son…”
“Then leave him. I’ll take you to get your things and you’ll live with me.”
She closed her eyes.
I lost my temper and turned the table over. It crashed on the floor and knocked over the other chairs. Adrenaline was coursing in my veins. I needed to demolish the house. “Goddammit!” I clenched my hands into fists. “He’s a piece of shit. Leave him. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Calm down…”
“No, you need to stop being calm. He abuses you, Mom. This behavior is unacceptable.”
She raised her hand. “You have a temper just like your father…you need to control it.”