Page 102 of Fracture

My mother crosses her arms over chest, tapping her foot against the decking. “And what would those be?”

“I don’t know.” I flick the ash from my cigarette. “Like, imagine if you helped someone commit a crime? You know, imagine someone made it possible for a person to do that, to hurt an innocent person?” When I meet her gaze, I see a flicker of uncertainty. “I mean, that’d make someone a piece of shit, right?Thatwould be really bad.”

Her face settles back into an expression of disgust, and she gives her shoulders a shake. “Don’t try and change the subject. I forbid this, Levi. I will never accept this relationship.”

“Well, since I don’t answer to you, I guess all I can say is too fucking bad.” I suck on my cigarette with a chuckle. “I’m fucking Dylan, too, if that makes you feel any better.”

My mother’s eyes almost roll straight out of her skull. “That’s not funny.”

“What’s wrong? I thought you were all about progress.” I laugh at her expression as I take another drag of my cigarette, sidling towards her. “Imagine what it could do for your image, telling everyone you have a bisexual son in a polyamorous relationship? What a fucking campaign slogan for the next governor.”

My mother slaps me hard. “You’re disgusting.”

I rub my jaw, laughing again. “Not so progressive after all, I guess.”

“You will pack up your things and move out of this house,immediately,” my mother snaps, jabbing her finger in my face. “I will not accept any son of mine living in this sort of depravity. And if you refuse, I’ll make sure your grandfather makes Stella and Dylan’s lives extremely difficult.”

I lunge at her, grabbing a hold of the strap of her bag that’s slung over her shoulder. Her expression is one of a startled deer, her eyes wide and filled with fear.

“I’m telling you this very plainly, Gloria.” I ignore the flinch at the use of her name. “You are not coming into this house and threatening the people I love.”

“Let go of me.”

“You think you can do what you like, and no one’s ever going to know?” I lower my face, staring into the cold and heartless face of the woman who gave birth to me. “There are consequences, Mother. And don’t think for one fucking second you can outrun them.”

My mother jerks out of my grasp, the strap of her purse giving way with a loud snap. She clutches it to her chest, smoothing down those imaginary misplaced hairs, wobbling on her Louboutins.

“Do not threaten me, Levi. You may be my son, but I won’t protect you if you continue to be disloyal.”

“Fuck your loyalty.” I flick the cigarette in her direction, and she stumbles backwards before the glowing stub can singe her overpriced skirt suit. “Fuck you, and the family, and your loyalty. Now get the fuck off Stella’s property.”

“You’ll regret this,” she spits at me, before turning on her heel and hurrying down the drive to the waiting town car.

“Don’t fucking come back!” I bellow after her. I exhale heavily as her car pulls away, rolling my head on my shoulders. My mother threatening the two people I love, that just won’tfucking fly. If I wasn’t going to kill her before, I sure as fuck would be now.

And my grandfather might need taking care of, too.

In prison, someone had told me how he’d killed his grandmother for her life insurance money. An air shot, between her toes. Everyone thought it was a heart attack. He’d almost gotten away with it. Until he’d gotten high as balls and told their cousin all about it, the day before the check was meant to clear. On video tape.

Fucking idiot.

But it does give me an idea on what good old Oswald will have happen to him while he has his nightly brandy in his study.

I head into the house to find Stella in the living room, legs curled up under herself, staring out the window.

“Is she gone?”

I cross the room and sit beside her on the window seat. “She’s gone, and she’s not coming back.”

Stella laughs bitterly, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “That’s what you think.” She looks over at me. “Her interview is tonight, did you know?”

“Yeah, Dylan told me.”

“Yeah.” Her gaze wanders back out the window, fixed on the trees swaying gently in the sunshine. “Is it weak of me to say I’m scared of what she’s going to say?”

“No.” I reach across and take her hand, stroking her fingers with mine. “My mother’s like a fucking landmine, you never know where to step.”

“That’s for damn sure. Guess we all lucked out in the mothering department.” Her hand curls around mine. “Except Dylan. His mom sounds like she was great.”

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