Page 59 of Cautious

“What he said.” Wade nods before focusing back on Callie.

“In your own time, Callie, tell us about your mom.”

Callie

My mom and dad always fought. I can’t ever remember a time where they were not yelling at each other before my dad would break down and apologize and the cycle would start again.I hold my phone up for Blake to read the words out loud.

“Did she get medical treatment? I couldn’t find anything before the night your father was arrested,” Wade asks.

I shake my head and start texting again, feeling a little freer with every word I type.

She didn’t get any medical treatment because she didn’t need it. She was never the victim, my father was. I lost count of the number of times I had to clean his blood off the floor.

That night, she went too far. She split his head open with a rolling pin, knocked him clean out, and I couldn’t stop the bleeding. I broke the rules and called for an ambulance. I honestly thought he was dead. She caught me hanging up and went crazy, but she didn’t take her anger out on me, she turned it on herself. She smashed her face repeatedly against the wall, over and over, even after her nose was clearly broken and everywhere was painted with blood.

She smashed chairs, threw vases, and then cut her arm and hands with a jagged piece of glass. I stood there in horror as myfather bled on the floor and my mother attacked herself before my eyes. I had no idea what the hell she was doing, but she had clearly lost her mind. No way would she be able to talk herself out of this.

Except that’s exactly what she did. The cops arrived, and she spun them a tale about years of mental and physical abuse. My dad was taken to the hospital and then arrested.

“Not an easy case to prove with a he-said-she-saidstory. They both had injuries, and neither had a medical history to support previous abuse. So how did he get convicted and sent down for eight years?” Wade asks as I swallow down a lump in my throat. It’s a question I ask myself daily, even though I know the answer. But knowing doesn’t change that an innocent man went to prison for something he didn’t do.

He pleaded not guilty and denied everything she said he did. But then, one day, she went to visit him, and when she came back, she had this smug look on her face. I didn’t know what she did or what she said, but he changed his story. He admitted to everything she said he did, even when she added that he sexually abused me to the story. He confessed to everything, and because of that, nobody would listen to me when I told them she was lying. After all, why would a man admit to something like that?

“Nobody would,” Marcus says, shaking his head.

“They would if it was the only way to protect their child,” Tate points out, looking straight at me. I swipe angrily at the tear that escaped and type as quickly as I can.

We were staying at that shelter in Wellington. Only so my mother could play up being the terrified victim. Me, well, I was just so angry and confused. I acted out, frustrated that nobody would listen. Hurt that I was losing my dad and being forced to stay with a mother who hated me.

She made every action and reaction I made seem like a result of his abuse. She did anything and everything for things to swing in her favor at court.

I didn’t understand. All I knew for sure was that he was innocent, so no matter what happened there was no way he was going to prison. The judge, the jury, the lawyers, they would all see her lies. They had to.

The tears fall faster than I can wipe them away, but I don’t make a sound as Blake continues to read, his free arm tightening around me in support.

That day she came back smug as fuck, and I knew, I fucking knew it was game over.

She admitted to me later that she had told him if he pleaded guilty, she would keep me safe and fed until I turned eighteen, and she wouldn’t raise a finger against me.

If he didn’t, he could take his chances with the legal system, but I would be kicked to the streets with nothing more than the clothes on my back.

I didn’t care. I would have left in a heartbeat. I told the people working at the shelter this, the police, the counselors, every single person who was supposed to listen to me, but none of them cared after my father pleaded guilty.

Kellen speaks up from the other sofa. “Please believe that I’m not taking anything away from you for saying this, but the risk of you being kicked out wouldn’t be enough for me to plead guilty for something I didn’t do, especially when the sexual assault charges came into play. He could have told someone about your situation and had someone find you somewhere to stay. Hell, he could have used his call from prison to find you somewhere to go while he awaited trial. I find it hard to believe that after everything, he would have even contemplated you staying with that crazy bitch.”

I was angry, so fucking angry. I’d have lived on the streets if it meant he was free, but even after everything she had done, after every lie she told, he bowed to her wishes.

I never really understood it myself until much later. At the time, all I knew was that my mother was a horrible person. And yet, despite that, she was so good at manipulating things that nobody ever saw through her bullshit. She could make her victims feel like everything was their fault.

My father went to prison because of her and died there as a result. And yet, I know even after everything, he still loved her.

Sure, their love was toxic, but like any kind of drug, he couldn’t live without the poison running through his veins as he chased the moments of euphoria.

It was when she turned up here in Tempest that I knew there was more to the story. I knew that whatever she said to my father that day to make him change his plea had been way worse than she had implied to me. And after finding out she sold me to Christian, I suspect she threatened my father with the same prospect back then. People would pay a pretty penny for a virgin, no?

“What did she say to you that day at your house? Did she threaten you?” Blake’s body is so tense under mine it’s like sitting on concrete.

She told me I had a week to return home to Christian before she sent him my location, telling me Christian would hurt everyone I had grown to care about if I stayed.

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