Page 38 of Bad Mother

Now that I think of it, perhaps I blacked out when the force of his skull hit mine.

In any case, when I opened my eyes, I was sitting on the floor, mostly propped up against the wall, an ice pack perched on top of my head, and Mr.Patcheswas bound to the chair and gagged in the same manner Father had been.

Mother was sitting across from him, a pleasant smile on her lovely face, her sky-blue eyes stormy with rage. She looked over at me. “You should have told me what he was doing to you, Danny Boy. I’m cross that you didn’t. Quite cross.”

“I’m sorry, Mother,” I choked out. Mr.Patches’s eyes darted back and forth between me and Mother, pupils dilated as he blinked rapidly. His pants were still down, and I averted my eyes from his flaccid penis, swallowing down the vomit that threatened.

Mother’s face melted into understanding. “It’s notyouwho needs to be sorry, my precious Danny Boy, my darling. It’s the lewd sack of shit sitting across from me.” She sighed, noticing my surprise. Mother never swore. “Excuse my language, but in this case, I feel it’s warranted, don’t you?”

“Y-yes, Mother,” I answered. “V-very warranted.”

“Did he threaten you, Danny? Did he find out your father’s gone and take advantage of that knowledge?”

“Yes, Mother.” My voice rose in pitch on the last syllable, shame enveloping me.

Mother took a slow, deep breath. “It’s not your fault, darling. Thesepeople”—she practically spat the word like a snake spewing venom—“are masters of manipulation and trickery.” She pounded her fist once on the tabletop, startling both me and Mr.Patches.

That’s when I noticed the butcher knife on the table next to her still-fisted hand, alongside our chessboard, all set up and ready for a game, the black piecesfacing Mr.Patches and the white pieces facing Mother. Several pawns had toppled over with the force of her punch, and now she took another breath before righting them once more.

“I hear you’re in charge of the chess club at my Danny Boy’s school,” she said. Mr.Patches looked briefly confused before the fear that had been clear in his expression took over once more. I stared at his face, drinking in his fear, letting it recharge me. I had been sagging against the wall, and now I pulled myself upright. Mother glanced at me, giving an encouraging smile and blowing me a kiss. Her lipstick was still perfect, her makeup tasteful as always. Mother was never smudged. Mother never broke a sweat. Even now.

But then she looked back at Mr.Patches, and her face hardened. “An advantage isn’t fair, now, is it?” she asked Mr.Patches, who simply stared at her, wide eyed, the gag trembling in his mouth while a string of saliva hung on his chin. “You’re practically a professional, and that won’t do, will it? We’ll have to even the playing field, so to speak, won’t we?”

Mr.Patches made an odd strangled sound, something between a curse and a plea.

I liked that sound coming from Mr.Patches. It was quite satisfying.

But Mother didn’t need his approval, nor anyone’s for that matter. As quick as a whip, she stood, grabbed the knife, and lunged at Mr.Patches, the same way she’d done with Father. This time, instead of stabbing at his chest, she arced the weapon downward, slicing into his naked, exposed crotch.

Mr.Patches went utterly rigid, a high-pitched scream muffled behind the rag in his mouth. Mother pulled the knife out with a delicious squelching sound, and he went rigid again, his scream building once more, blood splattering onto his button-down shirt and spilling to the floor.

Mother let the knife clatter to the table. Mr.Patches was panting now, sweat beading on his forehead as tears rolled quickly down his cheeks. He swayed as if he might pass out, but Mother ignored him. “Now,” she said, pushing the chessboard forward when he’d seemed to get hold of himself, though he continued to sweat and weep. And bleed. “Fair is fair, isn’t it, Mr.Patches?”

He answered with a muted sob. His shoulders were shaking, and the area between his legs was a red sea of blood and ruined flesh.

“Danny Boy,” Mother said. “Seeing as this disgusting excuse for a human being’s hands are otherwise occupied, you’ll have to help him out. I realize it’s terribly unfair to ask you to assist this vile deviant in any way whatsoever, but I think you’ll like where this is going. You do have the strength, don’t you, darling?”

“Yes, Mother,” I said, and my voice already sounded stronger.

Ifeltstronger. Better. Because I did like where this was going. I liked it very much.

“You detest vile deviants as much as I do, don’t you, Danny Boy?”

“Yes, Mother.”

“The world is better without them,” she asserted.

Yes, Mother. Yes, indeed.

I pulled myself to my feet, inhaling a deep breath and letting it rush through my body. I walked to where Mr.Patches was tied to the chair and stood at his side, ready to make a move.

Mother smiled, sweetly, gently, her eyelids fluttering. My, but she was pretty, my mother. Pretty and perfect in every single way.

She looked at Mr.Patches, shaking and bleeding in his chair. “Let’s play a game, shall we?” she asked. “Winner takes all.”

Sienna set the papers in her lap. “Well.” Her hands felt shaky. Was thisreal?

“Another feel-good reading experience,” Kat said, obviously attempting to add some humor to her tone but falling flat. She came to a stop at a red light and turned to Sienna. “‘Mother’ sounds like a downright savage. I’m going to assume Mr.Patches didn’t fare well against her.”

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