Page 146 of My Cowboy Freedom
My father’s eyes were bright with tears.
My mother said, “Rocky.”
“I did some checking, Mom.” I addressed her, but I held my dad’s gaze. “There are resources for people like me. Legal resources. Counseling. Attorneys who will work my case pro bono. Doctors who are willing to step in and help. There’s the Americans with Disabilities Act. There are programs. Grants.”
“You are ourson.” She hissed the word.
“If you fight me, I’ll take everything public. I’ll sell my story to the tabloids. I’ll embellish the hell out of it and make you out to be—”
“You wouldn’t dare.” My father’s voice was at its most lugubrious. He could have raised goosebumps on a stone saint.
“Try me.” I tore my gaze from my father’s devastation. My mother was stronger, but more brittle. I didn’t want to break her, but she wasn’t going to bend.
“Elliot”—my mother wrung her hands—“my God. Do something.”
“Show some respect for your mother, son. This is killing her.”
“I love my mother very much. I love you both. But if you ever lay another finger on me, I’ll go straight to the police.”
“Rocky—” She sobbed. “Elliot, for heaven’s sake. Stop this.”
I started throwing my clothes into a duffel bag. I didn’t have to take anything. I’d leave without a stitch on if I had to.
Me and Maisy. Leaving together.
“I am not living a lie.” I told my father. “Not for you. Not for anyone.”
As I opened the closet door, my mother tried to stop me.
“We can talk about this—”
“Hush, now, dear.” My dad took her gently into his arms. He met and held my gaze again. This time, his was visibly shaken. “He’s made up his mind.”
“What?” My mother appeared dazed. “He, what?”
“Tell Jackson where you want to go. After that—”
“No.”My mother shoved him away from her. “Don’t do this. He’s our son.”
“Cheryl.” The word held a warning even my mother, in her advanced state of distress, heard loud and clear.
She smoothed the front of her robe, taking the time to regain her composure. My dad had been right about one thing. I had an abiding respect for my mother’s strength, her iron will, her sense of purpose.
“Tell Jackson where you want to go,” he said again. “We will no longer interfere with your life.”
Did he mean it? Had I won?
I didn’t trust it yet, but I couldn’t help the tidal wave of giddy relief that surged from my heart to my head.
Seconds later, uncertainty stole over me.
What would Sky say when he found out?
Having definitely scored a win, I didn’t know how I dared to go any further.
“You’ll need to disown me somehow. I won’t be able to get any kind of government aid unless—”
“This family doesn’tsuckon the government’s teat.” My father’s shout brooked no argument. Even my mother didn’t dare open her mouth.
