Page 13 of Rent Free

And Sage’s ‘loves’ usually equaled abusive, lying, manipulative assholes.

Usually, victims weren’t to be blamed for the transgressions of their abusers.

However, when you knowingly looked for walking red flags like my sister did, there was only so much sympathy one could have.

She hadn’t outright admitted it that day when she’d called from the hospital, but she’d hinted enough at it that I knew exactly what happened.

Though, it was my absolute understanding that if I called her on her bullshit with the fake ‘kidnapping’ or outed her to the public in anyway, she would make my life a living hell.

And truthfully, I’d gotten rid of her. I was living my life. I didn’t want to deal with her shit anymore.

But then my mom had forced me to make that stupid freakin’ promise on her deathbed, and I was stuck. Forced to put myself back in a situation where my little sister could slither back into my life where I most certainly didn’t want her to be.

I just had to keep reminding myself that this was what my mother wanted.

Give her one last chance.

When I’d argued that Sage had many of those chances, my mom had given me this look that broke my heart.

She didn’t want to leave without knowing that I would try—and by try she wanted me to give it my all.

I was that kind of person.

I didn’t give up no matter what.

I tried hard on everything I did.

I went out of my way to make sure that things were perfect for everyone.

That, as someone who showed their love by acts of service, was apparently going to be my downfall.

I would give this one last thing to my mom.

And I would force Sage to listen. To see.

I’d give it one last try, and I would not stop until I was certain I’d done everything in my power to fix this divide.

“Since I’m a better person now, after my ordeal”—she batted her eyes—“I’m going to act like you didn’t leave me to heal all by myself in my time of need. What are you doing here, Pepper?”

The way she said Pepper might as well have been her saying ‘piece of shit.’

“I tried calling you hundreds of times over the last week,” I said. “Something happened.”

Sage rolled her eyes at my ‘dramatics.’

I was upset.

Our mother had just died. Our father was in a permanent care facility and was so confused on everything that was going on.

Mom had spent the last year fighting an aggressive form of breast cancer.

That had also been why no one had gone to see Sage.

Mom had nearly died so many times.

But that time in particular, Mom had a port implanted in her chest that had gotten infected and the infection had spread to her heart. Mom had a heart attack the same day that Sage had called to tell us of her latest woes.

Obviously, I would choose my mom over Sage.

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