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Her eyes are red and she’s got the withdrawal shakes. She’s always unpredictable when she’s like this. “You’re the director of a fucking hospital. You’re not running out of it anytime soon.”
Dad stands up, all imposing six foot three of him. He towers over Mom, apparently still impervious to the fact that he’s naked. Mom barely looks him up and down once before crossing her arms over her chest defiantly.
“The reason I remain wealthy is that I don’t throw my money away on coke parties in the Maldives.”
Mom’s eyes flare. “That was a relaxing spa vacation that I needed because everything has been so stressful at home lately.”
“Stressful wasting your useless life away?” Dad says scathingly.
Mom’s lips tighten and she steps into him, raising a finger to point at his chest. “Take the hold off my account or I’m telling her.” Mom nods in my direction.
Whoa, wait. What?
Dad’s eyes widen and he grabs her wrist in what looks like a bruising grasp.
“Dad,” Dominick says at the same time I step forward. “What’s she talking about?”
Mom just lifts an eyebrow in challenge.
“Don’t shit where you eat, Diane,” Dad says in a deadly whisper.
“Well I’ve got nothing to eat right now,” Mom shoots back, “so what the fuck do I care?”
“Somebody tell me what she’s talking about,” I demand.
Everyone ignores me while Mom and Dad continue their stare-off.
Neither of them look like they’re going to crack any time soon so I look over at Dominick. “Dom?” I ask, my voice trembling. “What’s she talking about?”
As soon as I see his ashen face, I know it’s something horrible.
“I didn’t know at first, I swear,” he whispers.
“Shut up, Dominick,” Dad snaps.
I take a step back from him, immediately feeling like I’m going to lose my lunch. Oh my God. What is it? What aren’t they telling me? “What didn’t you know about?”
“Why do you think he really married me?” Mom asks, laughing hysterically as she tries to yank away from Dad’s grip on her arm. “It certainly wasn’t for my sweet ass.”
He jerks her roughly. “Stop it, Diane. If you ever want—”
“Fuck you!” She leans back and then spits in his face. “No man’s ever gonna control me! I don’t need any of this shit. I was doing just fine before you came into the picture.”
She turns to me. “He saw your tight little ass at that party we went to last fall.” She gestures toward the bed and then at Dominick. “He had this sick shit in mind from the get-go but he needed to own you first. So he fucking bought you from me.”
“Shut up, bitch!” Dad yells.
And then he backhands Mom so hard that she’s knocked to the ground.
I scream and cover my face.
“Dad!” Dominick rushes his father and pins him against the far wall of the hotel. “What the fuck are you thinking?”
As big as his dad is, Dominick’s bulkier. He drags his dad over to the door, opens it, and shoves him out. “Get out of here, you bastard.”
Dad looks back at me one time, then shrugs Dominick off. Without a word, he stomps off down the hallway. The door closes behind him.
Mom just starts laughing like she barely feels it as she sits up, reaching up for her bleeding lip. She’s cackling like all of this is the funniest thing.
“He had such a hard-on for you.” She looks up at me through her stringy hair. “I was used to men staring at you, but he had it bad. He needed to be able to stow you away at home so he could spank you and do his sick Daddy shit in secret, then go and still be respectable at his fancy job!” She leans over and spits a mixture of blood and mucus onto the hotel carpet.
I stare at her.
No. Oh God, no.
Let this just be another one of the screwed-up bullshit rants that she makes up when she’s high.
But she’s not high at the moment. She’s in withdrawal. She always gets mean when she hasn’t had a hit in a while.
Still, I look over to Dominick again, begging for him to contradict her.
But he looks over more pained, sick even. “I swear I didn’t know.” Then he looks at the floor. “Not in the beginning. At the wedding, all I knew was that you were beautiful and that I wanted you. And then, later, when I realized just how it was all a little too perfect and I confronted Dad about it, I’d already gotten to know you. And I just couldn’t—” His tortured eyes come back up to meet mine. “I couldn’t let you go. Sarah, you know I lo—”
“Don’t,” I cut him off, shaking my head. “Just don’t.” He obviously hears the dangerous edge to my voice. If he utters the phrase I think was on the edge of his tongue, with how I feel right now, I think I might just cut his balls off.
