Page 85 of Marked

Twenty-seven

My mom and dad had showed up half an hour after the call and spent the whole day with me in the hospital. It was a tearful reunion, full of tight hugs and whispered apologies.

I gave them a very abbreviated explanation as to why I was here. Obviously, I left out the gods and my own status, but I told them my ex was the murderer and that he had taken my best friend hostage. I explained how he hurt her and that I couldn’t do anything to stop it.

I was embarrassed to explain that I gave myself alcohol poisoning. That my leg had been infected because I neglected to clean it or get it checked by a doctor. They didn’t need to know that it had been stabbed with a knife that had been used to cut rotten fruit.

When I was done explaining myself, my mom and dad were visibly upset. It was the second time I ever saw my dad cry, and that added to my shame.

They offered help. Offered to find me counseling, but I told them I would look into it myself. I wasn’t sure how I was going to go about finding the right person, but it might be helpful to talk about my trauma to someone. Especially since I didn’t sleep for shit last night.

“You all set, Val?”

I look up at my mom as she walks into my hospital room and give her a warm smile. The doctors said I can go home today so she insisted on being the one to pick me up. She looked so determined yesterday that I couldn’t say no to her.

So, when Taylor called me yesterday and also volunteered to take me home, I told her my mom was picking me up, and she burst into tears on the phone. It’s why I love my best friend so much; she knows exactly how big and important something is without me telling her.

“Val?” my mom says, gently touching my cheek. When I startle, she jerks her hand away and my heart hurts at the wounded look in her eyes.

From my sitting position on the edge of the bed, I wrap my arms around her, resting my cheek on her shoulder. One of her arms comes around my shoulders as her other hand pets my hair. “I’m sorry,” I mumble into her shoulder. “You surprised me. I was staring off in space.”

She hums in understanding. “Everything okay?” She clicks her tongue at herself. “Silly me, I know it’s not. I’m just worried about you, Val. You went through so much.”

I nod once, still holding her tightly to me, basking in the comfort only a mother can give. “I did,” I agree in a quiet tone. “But I’ll get through it.”

“I know you will,” she says confidently. She pulls back and cups my face in her hands. “You’ve always been the tough one. I mean, just look at you! You survived turning into a werewolf all those years ago.”

Before I joined the LVPCU, I told my parents I had been turned by a werewolf my last year of high school. It was my cover story, and they needed to be aware of it since I was joining the preternatural branch of the police force. It’s also the excuse I gave them as to why I needed physical distance between us. I claimed I was scared of losing control and hurting them. They believed me because why wouldn’t they? When I was an asshole teen, they thought I was going through one hell of a rebellious phase. What excuse did I have as an adult?

I wanted to tell them the truth here in the hospital room, but I think a part of me was still scared of how my father would react to the hellhound name. Bringing up Cerberus after I died didn’t go well the first time, and I didn’t want anything to ruin our reunion.

“Yeah.” I let go of her and stand up when she steps back. A sigh of relief escapes me when my leg doesn’t protest in any way. “How’s dad taking it?”

Mom purses her lips together and tucks her black hair behind her ear. It’s grown to the middle of her back, wisps of grey starting to show at her temples. There are laugh lines at the edge of her eyes and mouth, and I’m now a bit taller than her. But otherwise, she looks the same as when I was a kid.

“He’s adjusting,” she finally says with a sigh. “I think he feels responsible for you. A dad is supposed to protect his little girl, but he feels like he’s let you down a lot.” Her voice softens. “Especially when you were attacked, then when you were turned, and now with this near-death accident. It’s hard on him.”

“It’s not his fault. None of it,” I say as I grab my possessions from the bedside. “I know I didn’t make things easier for us, Mom.” I tuck my phone in one pocket of my jeans and stuff Jack’s in the other. It feels much heavier than mine, but I know it’s all in my head.

“Val,” my mom begins, but pauses when we pass a nurse on our way to the elevator. Once it’s only us in the elevator, she continues. “I understand you keeping us away after you were bit, but I’m not stupid.”

I furrow my brow at her. “What do you mean?”

She turns towards me with a serious expression. “I know you saw something when you died. You said you met Cerberus, and I believe you.” When I tense, she grabs my hand in hers. “I never agreed with what your dad said to you. We fought about it for days. When I was younger, I was really into Greek mythology. I even considered it for my undergrad.”

My mouth drops open. “What? I had no idea.”

She gives me a little shrug. “My grandmother was from Greece. She didn’t follow any of the old gods, but she used to tell me some tales in passing. It sparked my interest.” She squeezes my hands as the elevator comes to a stop. “But I believe you, Val. You changed so much after you died, and that was the only thing that would make sense.”

I don’t know what to say to her. “Thank you for believing me.” What else can I add?

She leads me from the elevator to the exit and waits until we’re alone in the parking lot to continue. “Did he do something to you?”

Her tone is so concerned that I’m answering before I can really think better of it. “Yes, but not like that.”

She stops us at her car, one I’m not familiar with. “Val, you can tell me anything. I want you to know that, okay? I’ll always support you.”

I hug my mom again, closing my eyes so that I don’t cry. “Thank you, Mom.”

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