Page 21 of What Is Love
It wasn’t until I was in my car driving home that my shoulders sagged a little with relief. I rubbed my lips withmy fingers, trying to make the feeling of his mouth go away. It didn’t. At least, not right away. Needing to release my frustration, I grasped my steering wheel with both hands and let out a loud, frustrated groan. I did that until I was pulling up my driveway.
When I got inside my house, I headed for the kitchen. I was hungry and pretty sure Prue had left me a piece of boiled chicken breast in the fridge to reheat.
At the sound of something rolling across a hard surface, I instantly knew I wasn’t alone.
Mother was sitting at the kitchen island in her cream silk robe, its sash barely holding it closed, revealing that she had nothing on underneath. Her long hair was down and curtaining her face. An almost empty crystal tumbler sat in front of her. It was a little after five and I could tell she was already drunk. With one of her hands, she was moving a rolling pin back and forth on the quartz counter.
I washopingthat she hadn’t noticed me and I could back out of the room. Before I could even take a step, her head tilted, and her gray eyes met mine.
“I was just getting some water,” I lied quickly.
“Where were you?” Even though her words were a little slurred, her tone was like ice.
“I went to the movies with Brandon.”
Anger molded her expression. “Then why are you back already?”
“The movie was over,” I answered, but that was apparently the wrong thing to say.
“I don’t want to hear your excuses!” she yelled as she stood, knocking over the stool she was sitting on. The sound of it hitting the tile was loud and made me flinch. Mother’s fingers curled around the rolling pin, and she dragged it with her along thecounter as she stalked toward me. “You should be with him right now!”
“He had plans with his friends,” I lied as I took a step back.
As she reached the end of the island, the rolling pin fell off the edge and it dangled in her hand. I looked from it to her with fear squeezing tightly around my entire rib cage. My body begged for me to run, but I knew if I did it’d be worse for me in the end. She would call upon Clay to help her.
“Have you fucked him yet?” she snarled.
I was taken aback for a split second before shaking my head. “We’ve only been dating for a few days.”
She let out a frustrated noise and fisted her hair with her free hand. “You’re so fucking useless. I can’t rely on you to do anything right. You’re nothing like me. You’re like him. Fucking nothing! Fucking scum! You will never be anything, just like him! I should have fucking aborted you when I had the chance!”
I should have been used to this. Her words weren’t original. Or at least, most of them weren’t. Her verbal lashes didn’t hurt as much as they once had, but I could still feel the sting.
“You’re pathetic. You will always be pathetic and useless,” she continued, and it was withering something away in me. When she got like this, I’d normally just take whatever she said without reaction. Reacting only made things worse. Maybe it was because I was emotionally drained from hanging out with Brandon, but today I couldn’t not react. Instead of being hurt, for the first time, I got angry and forgot why I needed to be afraid.
“Why are you making me be with him?” I demanded. “What do you gain from it?”
Mother went still, eyes burning with unrestrained rage, before she came at me, rolling pin raised above her head.
There were no thoughts. Only fear. I stumbled backward until I slammed into a wall. I just barely had enough time toput my arm up as she brought the rolling pin down. She hit the outside of my forearm. I didn’t hear a crack, which I’d been bracing for, but it hurt enough to make me cry out and slide down to the floor. Shaking and cowering, I cradled my arm to my chest.
“Who are you to question me!” she roared above me and raised the rolling pin again. “You are nothing!”
I knew I wouldn’t be able to block her again with a hurt arm. I just tried to lean away to protect my head. The pin landed across my collarbone and the top of my shoulder. A cry of pain was ripped from me again, undoubtedly echoing through the house loud enough for staff to hear and ignore. “I’m sorry! Please! I’m sorry!” I pleaded as I tried to crawl away before she could hit me again.
Her nails scraped my scalp as her fingers locked around my hair and she dragged me back to face her. She dropped the rolling pin so she could grab my throat while still holding me by my hair. Her nails dug into my skin as she squeezed, making it hard to breathe. She looked me in the eyes as she continued to verbally rip me apart. Saying all the same things but in different ways.
I was nothing.
I was pathetic.
She should have smothered me in my crib or thrown me from the Kendry Bridge.
I just tried to stay as still as possible, taking in small gasps of air when I could, and let her vent her rage and her hate for me.
Chapter Six
I was prettysure nothing was broken, but it hurt to move. My neck and shoulder more than anything. Any little bit of movement was a reminder of last night. Besides physical pain, I felt completely hollow. All morning, I must have been on autopilot. I barely remembered the drive to school or anything about my classes.
