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“Everyone has bad days,” she said. “I’m sure whatever you’re going through—”
“Mom, stop.” It was her answer every time he told her about something Marvell had done. He was sick and tired of her covering for him. Sick and tired of the excuses. “This isn’t something that’ll blow over.”
She grew quiet.
“The cops are out looking for Marvell.”
“For what?” Her voice had risen to a frantic pitch, the tremors of fear and panic evident in her tone.
“He’s been selling out shifters to hunters, Mom,” Santee said. “And he’s gotten worse with me.”
Again, she didn’t say anything. Santee clenched his jaw as he shoved his food aside. “Why didn’t you ever stop him from hurting me?”
“Boys will be boys,” she said, but her confidence seemed to have waned from the start of their conversation.
“No, Mom. There are limits to sibling rivalry. Marvell putting me in a headlock might be considered brothers being brothers, but him slamming me into a wall and punching me isn’t something brothers do.”
“What are you saying?” she asked.
“That you’ve known all along that Marvell isn’t right in the head. That you and Dad knew that something was wrong with him, and neither of you did anything to stop him or get him help.”
“There’s nothing wrong with your brother,” she argued.
Santee wanted to bang his head against the table. He couldn’t understand how she could be so blind to Marvell’s true nature. He wanted to scream, to shake her and make her admit the truth.
“He’s been selling out our kind, Mom. He’s purposely sending people to their deaths!”
“I don’t believe it,” she said. “Marvell might be a bit much at times, but he wouldn’t do something like that.”
This was unreal. Santee thought that, once he made her face the truth, she would confess to knowing he was mentally unstable. That she would say that she and Santee’s father would be home right away to deal with this.
“You’re fooling yourself,” Santee said between gritted teeth. “You know that Marvell isn’t right, and yet you choose to stick your head in the sand.”
“My boys are perfect!” Her voice trembled, as if she was struggling to keep her composure. He also detected hints of anger beneath the surface.
“Marvell is so mentally screwed up that he shouldn’t be walking the streets!” Santee would never understand evil. He guessed some people were just born that way. Marvell’s evil knew no boundaries.
“I see I’ve caught you at a bad time.” She cleared her throat. “I’ll call you later.”
Santee’s jaw dropped as he pulled the phone from his ear, realizing she’d hung up on him. What the fuck? His parents had always turned a blind eye to what Marvell had done, but this was a whole new level of denial.
Knowing his parents were going to continue to act as if Marvell was just being Marvell, Santee tossed his phone onto the table and cupped his head in his hands.
He wasn’t going to get any help from them. His parents were off living their dream, and they weren’t going to come back to Midnight Falls for any reason.
Was that why they’d left in the first place? Because they knew Marvell was getting worse and they didn’t want to have to deal with his deteriorating mental state? Was their dream vacation just an excuse to distance themselves from him?
Santee felt betrayed. If that were the case, they’d left him to deal with Marvell on his own. In that moment, Santee hoped they stayed away. He wasn’t sure he ever wanted to talk to them again.
“You okay?”
Santee didn’t bother turning around at Beckett’s voice. “How much did you hear?”
“Most of it.” Beckett entered the room and sat back down in his chair.
Which meant his mate had heard both sides of the conversation because of preternatural hearing. “I can’t believe she won’t admit how messed up Marvell is.” He finally looked at Beckett. “I’m sorry you got dragged into this.”
Beckett pulled Santee onto his lap and then curled his arms around him. “I’m going to keep saying this until you believe me, conejito. None of this is your fault. You did the best you could in a bad situation, and I’m proud of you.”
