AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Amelia settles into the chair opposite mine, sliding a cup of delicious-smelling coffee over to me. "Here you go, hun."
She looks as fabulous as ever in baggy, ripped jeans and a fitted shirt that stops just above her belly button. She's let her hair down, the long, dark curls framing her face in a way that highlights her gorgeous features. It's hard to believe that she's been on her feet serving customers all day when she looks like she literally just walked off the cover of a fashion magazine. Not only is she a barista in this very cafe, she's the owner of a chain of cafes and restaurants in the city. Despite her family's wealth, Amelia has built her business from scratch, quickly rising to become one of the youngest business owners to be featured in Forbes magazine.
Sometimes, it's hard to believe that I'm friends with an amazing woman like Amelia. Despite the massive differences in our statuses, Amelia has always been fiercely protective and loyal. She's always loved me in a way I never thought myself deserving of.
“This is delicious as always,” I say, holding the coffee cup up with a grateful smile. “Thank you.”
“Oh, don't mention it,” Amelia says with a dismissive wave of her pretty, manicured fingers. “I'm just happy to have you here. It's good to see you out and about.”
In the past, I've always denied her invitation to visit or hang out for fear of my stepfather. I'd been conditioned to stay behind the mental bars he built for me over the years, confined by fear and projected insecurities. Now that I'm out, I’m constantly confronted by all of the things I’ve been missing out on.
“I'm sorry,” I say quietly to Amelia, hoping she understands the reason for my apology.
From the softening of her expression, I think she does. “Please don't be,” she says, reaching out across the table to take my hands in hers. “It wasn't your fault. Do you hear me?”
I nod, smiling at the fierce determination in her eyes as she waits for me to respond. “Yes, I hear you.”
She returns my smile, her eyes filling up with pride as she sits back in her chair. “Curt told me about your mom's visit. She's ready to let go of Tom?” she asks, referring to my stepdad.
I nod, ignoring the familiar tightness in my chest at hearing his name. “That's what she says. Curt's been working tirelessly for the past two weeks to gather enough evidence to put him behind bars for a long time. He's found enough to start a case, but he says it's not substantial, and now he's been out of town since yesterday to follow a lead.” I sigh softly, letting my shoulders slump as the weight of my emotions settle on me. “I feel bad imposing on him like this.”
"No. No," Amelia says quickly. "He's happy to help. He loves you, you know?"
My heart lurches violently in my chest at Amelia's words. "D-did he say that to you?" I ask, struggling to keep my voice level.
“He didn't have to,” Amelia replies with a kind smile. “I see it in his eyes, just as I see it in yours. You love him too, don't you?”
The question is sudden, causing a shrill alarm to go off in my head. I’m certain that Curt and I share a special connection, but I haven't considered the possibility of love. I haven’tletmyself consider it. And now that I'm confronted with that possibility, I'm totally unprepared.
Just then, my phone starts to ring, saving me from having to answer. I pick up the phone, flashing Amelia an apologetic smile which she acknowledges with a dismissive wave.
I place the phone over my ear, instantly freezing up at the sound of my mother's voice. Her words, punctuated by a familiar, fearful urgency, morph into a discordant echo. She’s drowned out by Tom’s manic shouts. Before I know it, I'm spiraling into the dark tunnels of memories that I thought were shut forever.
I stand up so abruptly that my chair almost topples to the ground. Amelia blinks up at me, her brows furrowed in concern.
“Are you alright?” she asks quietly.
“I-I need to go,” I reply. And without waiting for her to respond, I spin around and run out of the cafe.
The twenty-minute taxi ride down to my mother's home passes in a blur. I’m out of the car before it even pulls to a stop in front of the shabby bungalow that used to be my home.
I sprint to the front door and push it open. “Mom? Mom! Where are you?”
I burst into the kitchen to find it quiet and empty. It looks just the same as I remember: smoke-stained wallpaper, peeling vinyl floors, and a layer of grime coating everything. Old food wrappers and dirty clothes litter every surface. I search for my mother, but the only living creature I see is a fat roach scuttling across the kitchen floor.
Suddenly, I feel a heavy thud on the back of my head. I barely have time to register the pain before falling to the ground and being consumed by an overwhelming darkness.
By the time I open my eyes, I've been tied to a chair with Tom Miller, my stepfather of eighteen years, standing over me with a mocking sneer.
“Hello, daughter.”
I look around, wincing at the dizzy spell that overcomes me at the effort.
“Mom? Where's my mom?”
A strangled whimper draws my attention to a huddled figure in a far corner of the sparse living room. I blink rapidly at my cowering mother, taking in her glazed-over eyes and the guilty expression on her face. I feel my heart drop to my stomach, and the realization of my situation slowly dawns on me.
"Did you… are you high, mom?" I ask in disbelief, glancing from her to Tom and back to her. She doesn’t have to answer; the needle in her arm tells me everything I need to know. "He made you call me, didn't he? How could you, Mom? You sold me out tohim for drugs? How can you stab me in the back over and over again?!"
