Page 121 of The Tangle of Awful

Her words are whips lashing at my skin. I don’t recoil because she obviously needs help. Getting my feelings hurt won’t get us anywhere.

“Where will you go?” I ask instead of giving in to my emotions.

“I guess New York’s out of the question since that monster murdered my boyfriend.” A sob racks through her and her hand tenderly touches her belly. She hastily wipes the tears away. “I’m going back to LA. Back home to where normal people live.” She gestures to her belly. “And the second this heals, I’m getting a tummy tuck so I can put this entire ordeal behind me.”

“Mom…”

“I’m no one’s mother. I’m Neena. Just Neena.”

This time, her words hit their mark. My heart aches from the abuse she’s striking it with. Her bloodshot eyes light up with delight. Hurting those around her is her favorite pastime.

“He has my keys, doesn’t he?” Mom demands, pointing toward Spencer’s room.

I don’t say anything and follow her as she slowly hobbles out of Hugo’s room. She makes it to Spencer’s room and leaves the suitcase at the door. All I can do is trail after her. Spencer is still sleeping, features boyish and innocent.

She took advantage of him when he was a kid.

Anger chases away the hurt.

I watch her with narrowed eyes as she makes it into his closet, yanking sweats and a shirt off the hangers. The hairs on my arms stand on end. I don’t like how she is taking clothes from him like she owns them—owns him. I stand between the bed and the closet, creating a barrier between them.

She carefully tugs away the gown. Her stomach is bandaged up and her breasts are leaking milk. And still, despite the teary, unhinged expression, she’s beautiful.

Yet, she’s so ugly inside.

It takes some cursing and whimpering, but she manages to dress in Spencer’s clothes. She even takes a pair of his flip-flops. Then, she goes straight to his end table. Now that I’ve gotten to know him well, I know he always puts his keys in there since he doesn’t like clutter. It pains me to know that she also knows this.

She knew Spencer as intimately as I do.

Once she has the keys, she limps into the bathroom. I can hear the sink turn on and the splashing sound of water. She returns, a sneer on her still dripping pretty face.

“Your clothes are in Hugo’s room and also in Spencer’s. You really are a whore.”

Hearing the nasty words and the hatred being spewed my way cracks my heart the rest of the way. She’s not my mother. She’s my nemesis. She always was, but I never allowed myself to see it.

I see it now.

“Get out,” I say lowly. “Now.”

Her head cocks to the side and her nostrils flare. “Did someone find her backbone?”

“Out!” I shout, no longer worried about waking Spencer. “Get the fuck out of my house, bitch.”

My words don’t strike her like I want. If anything, she seems pleased by them based on the slow grin that spreads across her face. Her eyes glitter with pride. It’s a look I’ve ached for my entire life. Now that I have it, I don’t want it. She’s proud of me for losing my shit. Like her.

I am nothing like her.

“There’s hope for you yet, baby girl. See you in LA when you get bored of this Park bullshit.”

With those words, she walks out of the room, less wobbly and more self-assured. There’s no denying the woman is made of fire and titanium.

I remain rooted in place, hands curled into fists, long after the front door slams and I hear tires peeling out of the driveway. Spencer, as exhausted as he is, still quietly snores peacefully.

My phone rings from somewhere. I find it still in the pocket of my discarded jeans on the bathroom floor. The battery is almost dead. I don’t answer it in time, but I notice Hugo has called several times. I rush into my room and plug it into the charger before calling him back.

“Hugo? Is the baby okay?”

“Yeah, Love, the baby is fine. I called to warn you.” He sighs heavily. “Neena broke out of the hospital. I don’t know how the hell she got out of here without help. But I wanted to warn you guys. She might go home.”

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