Page 237 of Wicked Brutal

“Stop behaving like this!"

“You just hit our children!”

“Our daughter has forgotten her place and our son is following her example.”

“Listen to yourself!”

Dad throws her sideways. Mom hits the edge of the table and goes down hard. A glass falls with her and shatters across the floor.

“Mom!”

She gets back up. I don’t know how. Her hair has fallen loose around her face. Her chest is heaving. One hand is pressed against her side.

She looks at Dad like she hates him. “Don’t you dare put this on them. They are scared of you because of your actions.”

Dad grabs her again. Mom tries to shove him away. Then something changes. Her hands stop. Her shoulders shift. Her face turns slightly. Dad hits her. She turns with it.

My stomach drops. Not because he hit her. Because Mom knew. She knew it was coming.

“Mom?”

Her eyes flick toward me. And suddenly I remember long sleeves in warm rooms. Makeup when she wasn’t going anywhere. Closed bedroom doors. A bruise years ago that came from walking into a cabinet. Another from slipping in the bathroom. Mom laughing because she was always so clumsy.

Dad still has her arm. She isn’t fighting him anymore. She knows when to stop. She knows what makes it worse. My mother knows the rules. The same ones I do. I just never knew we learned them from the same man.

“You’ve done this before.”

The words come out without permission. Mom’s face breaks. Only for a second. It’s enough.

Dad looks at me. “Stay out of matters you don’t understand.”

Something hot tears through the fear. “You hit her before.”

“Alison.”

“How many times?”

“I said enough!”

Tobias is sobbing against me. Mom’s eyes close. “Ally.”

Dad releases her. Mom stumbles backward.

Tobias pulls away from me before I can stop him. “I hate you!”

Everything freezes. Dad turns toward him. I know that look. So does Mom.

“No,” she says.

Dad takes one step. I get there first. I put myself between him and Tobias again. My cheek burns. Blood coats my tongue. Both arms throb where he grabbed me. I’m still scared. I don’t move. “Don’t.”

Dad stops. “Move.”

“No.”

“Alison, I am warning you.”

“Then warn me.”