Page 10 of Saviors

The pressure in my chest eased as I took in the sights. The fear of the men in the car with me lessened. Reid was driving the sleek black SUV. Maverick was in the passenger seat, his gaze diligent on the traffic around us like he expected a threat. Connor sat in the back with me, leaving an empty spot between us.

The space was welcome. As was the warmth of the interior and the baggy clothes. My stomach tumbled as I wondered what my parents were going to say. As I worried if I would be able to take their hugs of comfort and joy or if the physical touch would be overwhelming. They must have been frantic these past few months.

I was filled with regret. In the first few weeks I was taken, all I thought about was the last time I saw them and the fight we’d had. On the bad days, the ones where I believed I was going to die, I hated that my last words to them were in anger. I replayed that night over and over in my mind.

* * *

My jaw tensed. My teeth creaking together as I listened to my mother drone on and on about my ex-boyfriend. I tried to focus on the dish in my hand. The rough sponge on my palm as I scrubbed our dinner away.

I’d already heard what she had to say a million times. Jesus Christ, I’d broken up with the guy three years ago. I was dating someone else now, not that this relationship was going any better. But she was still talking about my ex. How much she hated him. How he was weak. Stupid. Worthless.

I knew she actually meant me.

“I get it, Mom! You didn’t like him.” I finally cracked. The guilt of yelling at my mother left an acidic taste on my tongue. But I couldn’t take it anymore.

“That’s my cue.” Aaron, my half-brother, chuckled as he stood from the kitchen table. It was clear we didn’t share a full set of parents. His hair was lighter than my black. His skin tanner than my pale. He looked like your average mid twenty-something in jeans with a mullet haircut.

“Right behind you.” Craig, our other brother, followed, leaving their dessert plates on the table for me to clean up. He was an older version of Aaron. Except he had a better hairstyle and wore a suit.

My step-father was already watching the game in the living room. They’d only lingered in here to have a piece of cake. My brothers never helped with our weekly family dinners.

They’d given up on trying to stop my mother’s rants about me long ago. Something they seemed to avoid. They each kissed her on the cheek before retreating.

“It’s been years since we broke up. Can’t you let it go?” I tried to reason with her again for what felt like the hundredth time. “I’m with Simon now.”

I winced, knowing that wouldn’t be true after tonight. And I’d have to hear about that too. How she wasn’t surprised because I always picked the wrong men. They were too good for me. Not good enough. Too quiet. Too loud. Too nice. Too rude.

The unfairness of it washed over me as I watched my brothers walk away unscathed. She didn’t criticize their romantic life or career choices, even though none of us was sure what they did for a living. Something in investing. Needless to say, they made more than I did as a struggling pianist.

Maybe I wouldn’t care that I was broke if I truly wanted to be a professional pianist. But I didn’t. I used to love playing and when mom saw I had a talent for it, she paid for lessons. Sent me away to music summer camps. She wanted this dream more than I did. I just didn’t want to disappoint her.

“You should never have dated him.” She held her head up. Not an ounce of regret on her face. Or sympathy that I had no desire to keep revisiting my mistakes.

The water sloshed as I turned back to washing the dishes. Scrubbing harder than was necessary. “Well, I’m sorry, just add it the list of ways I’ve disappointed you.”

My failed career. My tiny apartment. The fact that I’m still not married to some rich guy. That I didn’t have kids of my own. The list was endless to her.

“You’re so sensitive.” She rolled her eyes. The anger inside me swelled like the filling of the sink. It was getting dangerously close to the edge.

She always did this. Made her rudeness my problem.

“I’m not sensitive. You’re being mean.”

“I just want what’s best for you. You’re better than this.” And there was the guilt.

She had these moves down to a practiced dance. But I didn’t know how to get out of my part. How to not let it bother me.

“What do you want me to say?” I was shouting now. The dishes smacked together as I slammed them into the drying rack. “It was a mistake to date him! Fine, I made a mistake. Are you happy? Everyone makes mistakes!”

Her lips pursed as she straightened in the kitchen chair. And I knew she wouldn’t back down. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not in this lifetime. “I’ve never made a mistake in my life.”

I snapped. The anger overflowed. Splashing until it coated every inch of my skin. I couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out of my mouth.

“Oh yeah? What about your first marriage?”

I knew she regret marrying my father. She didn’t have to say that she regretted having me, too. That she’d wished she only had Aaron and Craig.

She’d divorced my father when I was three and I hadn’t seen him since. I considered my step-dad to be my dad. I’d never felt like I was missing out.

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