Page 100 of These Family Ties

My pleas fall on deaf ears as he pins me down with one hand, roughly parts my legs with his knees, and pulls his dick out of his pants.

“Melanie, stop fucking lying to me. Tell the truth and I might just go easy on you.”

“It doesn’t matter what I say, you won’t believe me anyway,” I bite out, while tears stream down my face.

“You know me, you know how my dick feels inside your pussy. It belongs to me, and no one else. Once I’m through with you, you won’t forget how it feels.”

He pushes into me viciously, and for the first and possibly last time in my life, I’m glad I had sex with Edward. His cum inside of me acts as a lube, keeping me wet and allowing Max to slide in and out effortlessly as he punishes me for what our son did to me. Max fucks me wildly, with no care for me, only seeking his own twisted end. I’m angry at Edward, too, but attacking him isn’t the way to get the message across.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Edward as he lies unconscious on my bedroom floor. Protecting him and keeping him safe has always been my priority, and if letting his father violently rape me in a blind rage keeps him from killing him, then I haven’t failed as his mother.

Epilogue

Edward

Dad never visits me. After dropping me off at the hospital with Mom and leaving me at the mercy of the doctors, he hasn’t come back to see me. Mom sobbed as she handed me the court order stating that he’d formally disowned me.

Mom visited me twice a week when I was in the psychiatric ward. Even though I wasn’t technically ill in the way some of my housemates were, I was still stuck there until I’d recovered from my injuries and been through a six-week course of counseling. However, I’m still not convinced that there’s anything wrong with me.

Love is a complex thing, it’s not as simple as you do or don’t love someone. There are different types of love, and how I feel runs deeper than a boy who loves his mother.

I love my mom, why’s that so bad?

I admit, I shouldn’t have tricked her, but Dad didn’t need to go as ballistic as he did. He beat the shit out of me, but then he hurt Mom. He raped her, and I’ll never forgive him for that. I could take the beating, and I would do it again in a heartbeat if it meant she would be safe. I’ve tried to talk her into leaving him and moving in with me, but so far, she’s refused. I can tell she doesn’t trust me, not after what I did.

From what I’ve gathered from the little bits of information she’s told me, things aren’t much better at home. It’s been three months since the ‘incident’, but things aren’t the same as they were. Mom has lost weight, her eyes are always red and swollen from crying. She’s unhappy, and it’s my fault.

The doorbell rings and I go to answer it.

“Mom?” I say, raising my eyebrow when I see the bags at her feet and the defeated expression on her face.

“I’ve left him. I can’t keep up the pretense anymore. He almost killed you, and I can never forgive him for that, or myself for letting it happen.”

“Mom, I’m fine. And it wasn’t your fault.”

I hesitantly hold my arms out to her, and she allows me to hug her tightly. Pulling her close, I relish the feeling of her being in my arms again. It’s been too long since she allowed me to hold her properly. It’s a small win, but I’ll take it.

“I have to protect my babies,” she says quietly.

I look at her quizzically and she puts her hand on her stomach.

“You’re pregnant?” I sputter, and she smiles softly, stroking the tiny bump.

Mom looks hesitant, but she nods. “I—I don’t know whose it is though. You father hasn’t touched me since that night, but you both—um…” she trails off.

“It doesn’t matter, does it?” I ask her.

My heart is racing wildly in my chest at the thought of being either a father or a big brother. It makes my head spin to consider that it might be mine, and my heart breaks a little more at the thought she might be unhappy. This baby was conceived either through a love-fueled lie, or through rape. Neither is particularly positive.

“I don’t know,” she sighs, rubbing her stomach. “I always wanted another little one to love and watch grow up.”

“You thought I was him, and you felt happy and loved at the time…” I begin, but I can’t think of a way to voice what I mean.

She seems to get it though, because she smiles and squeezes my hand.

“Thinking back now, I wonder if I always knew the truth and just wanted to feel loved so badly that I convinced myself of the lie,” she admits unsurely. “Does that make me a bad mother?”

“I don’t think so,” I tell her as I kiss her on the cheek. “You’re the best Mom I could ever ask for, and I know that my little brother or sister is going to agree.”

She leans into me, and I rub her back before laying a hand on her belly where my mom’s new baby is growing inside of her. I might have put it there, or I might not, but I’m secretly hoping it’s mine, because at least I loved her when I filled her up with my cum… which is more than can be said of my bastard father.

In time I hope she’ll come around to the idea of us being together. Then maybe she’ll give us a chance to be a family, but not like we are now. I want her to be mine, and I want to raise our child together. We’ll be an unconventional, complex family, but at least it’ll be filled with love.

“I love you, Mom.”

The End.

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