Page 1 of The Broken Note

CHAPTERONE

CADENCE

“Mom.”

The name slips past my lips with a hint of fear and a swell of nausea. My fingers tighten on the door jamb—the one Hunter helped me switch a couple weekends ago.

The fixed lock. The barred exit. The change that lured mom out of the shadows.

If I’d known, I probably wouldn’t have made the effort.

“Daughter.” Mom tilts her head.

The living room falls into a deeper quiet as she stares at me. Brown eyes. Brown hair. Lips a dark red—the color of dried blood. Like the scabs I used to pick at obsessively when I was a child.

My skin starts itching.

I hear the rising notes.

D# major.

The saddest key in music.

The perfect background for mom’s haunting.

My mother rises from the couch. Always with that regal manner, even though we’re dirt poor and destitute.

She used to be beautiful. A pageant queen, mom always boasted.I won the Miss Teen Pageant.

One of her many stories.

Addicts are allergic to the truth.

What she won was the genetic lottery. But like all lottery winners who foolishly splurge their winnings and end up worse than before, mom’s beauty is desperate. Like a fraying rope, tying together what little appeal her face and painfully thin body have left to give.

Under the weight of her bad decisions, the cracks always show. Makeup and a nice smile can’t hide it.

“What are you doing here?” I snap. Despite my heated tone, my nail scratches against the glossy paint of the doorknob. The heel of my pumps slap the floor as my knee bounces uncontrollably.

“I found this under your bed.” Mom whips up two fingers. Perched between them is a golden condom.

My heart slaps hard against my ribs.

A flood of images rush my mind.

Dutch with amber eyes burning as he growled, ‘Take off your clothes and spread your legs.’

Dutch cradling my face and kissing me.‘You’re doing great, Cadey. Just relax, baby. You feel so good’.

Dutch pushing into me and filling me with an explosion of pain and pleasure. So much I thought I’d burst.

My muscles coil and I subconsciously brush my hand against my school skirt, right over the deepest bruise on my hip. The strength of his hands when he’d gripped me left marks all over my body. Marks that soaked right through to my soul.

Mom arches an eyebrow. “I see.” A slow, smug grin spreads across her face. “Good for you, Cadey. I thought you’d be a square all your life. You make me proud.”

It’s instant the way her words crush the memories. Twist and turn them into something crude. Ugly. Despicable.

Everything beautiful falls to ruin in her tainted hands. I shouldn’t have expected this to be different. Yet all I want to do is shower until my skin bleeds.

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