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I rasp, “I need your help, Hunter.”
I hear a rustle, and Sarah, his old lady, asks if everything is okay. He reassures her before a door shuts, and he commands, “Tell me everything, Lucas.”
16
Kennedy – One Week Later
I stare at the yellow front door of my parent’s house. The grass is overgrown, and bottles litter the lawn. I shake my head.
I didn’t want to come here. I know my stuff is at Doc’s…my Lucas’s house; I saw it all a week ago before I left his place after we gave into our passion, his body firmly against mine, pleading me to climb back into bed.
“Please, don’t go…” he whispers into my ear from behind me. The sun is coming up, and last night…it shouldn’t have happened.
“I have to,” I whisper back, causing his arm to tighten around me.
His lips touch my neck, and he rasps, “If you think I’m giving up on us, on you, then you have another think coming, baby. I’ll fight to the death for you.”
It took everything I had not to cry at that moment, especially when I saw all my stuff in his room. He means what he says, but he’s still with Prue, and I know that’s mainly my fault. I didn’t check my surroundings when I buried Nick; my only thought was to save Lucas.
But he also shouldn’t have gone along with it. I would have handed myself in or helped find the footage….
I blink back tears, looking at the house—the horror—I grew up in.
“How dare you talk back to me!” Momma screams, and I flinch.
“I-I didn’t mean to, Momma. I-I just asked for-for a cuddle…” I sob, and her face turns red. Before I know it, I’m on the ground holding my head, blood pouring through my fingers. I scream as I look at Momma standing over me with a pan, and I try to get away from her, but I’m not quick enough. Her arm swings, and everything goes black.
I bite my bottom lip. I was seven when she hit me with an object instead of her firsts for the first time. I’d had a bad day at school; Lola wasn’t in, and the mean girls took their chance to bully me for my unwashed clothes.
I hadn’t managed to give them to Aunt Shelly to wash; Momma locked me in the closet that weekend.
All I wanted was a cuddle from my momma, and she accused me of talking back when she told me to go clean the kitchen. When I woke up, I was in the closet again.
Now, I tilt my head as the front door opens, and Momma comes into view, looking a mess. Her hair is greasy, make-up is smudged over her face, and she is wearing lingerie.
She sneers at me, “Finally, come crawling back home after leaving us in the lurch? What, did they decide you suck.” She grins at her words, but her grin soon disappears when I smirk.
I have a theory, and I’m here to confirm it. If Prue was obsessed with Lucas for as long as we think she has, then she knows all about my past. She would have done her digging and known the one person who would love to see me drown.
Jealousy can be a bitch.
“Actually, Momma, I’ve been offered a full-time job with accommodation in both Huntersville and New York. I got voted the best in the program,” I goad, hoping she falls for it. “I thought I’d come let my parents know, but I guess you're still bitter that I’m living the life you wanted so badly, huh?”
Her eyes blaze with anger.
Ijustsmile and remark, “You know the best thing about no longer living at home, Momma?” Her nostrils flare, and my grin grows. “No longer living up to your expectations. I no longer have to pay you, I no longer have bruises or end up in the closet, and more importantly….” I smirk at this last bit, and state, “I no longer have to hide my time with my cousin.” Her eyes widen in shock, her body stilling, and I chuckle. “Uncle Chris was amazing to me growing up, even ensured I had a dorm room paid for when I went to college. He definitely was the better sibling.”
She steps out the door and growls, “You little?—”
I tut, “Ah, ah, ah, Momma, think of your precious beliefs here. If Grams and Gramps heard you talk like this, they’d cut you off and give their fortune to me and Alex. Oh wait….” I tilt my head. “They already did; the lovely amount of $100,000 gaining interest in my account daily.”
The same amount I’ve actually donated to a charity that helps mothers struggling with infant loss. The gained interest I got over the years is a safety net if I ever need it.
I smile, staying near the truck I borrowed from the club, refusing to drive the Range Rover Lucas bought me. I’m waiting for Momma to explode, waiting for her to give me what I want.
“Come on, Momma, take the bait,” I mumble to myself as her eyes blaze with anger. I wait for her ego to pull through—the ego that has gotten the best of her for years, the ego that has cost her everything.
And the ego that pulls through now.
