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Running my fingers through my hair, I yank it and hold back a scream. I watched my mom go through this shit far too long to be okay with leaving her, but I have no choice right now. I need backup, and if Lucas won’t give it to me, I’ll go down fighting for her myself.
I leave the small place I’ll only refer to as hell and start back up the stairs, down the halls, all the way until I’m in the parking lot.
I pull my phone from my pocket and dial Lucas’s number, then hang up before it can connect. Fuck a phone call. He’ll have to tell me no in person. Luckily, I know Lucas is easily worn down. He can play bad all he wants, but I fucking know him. He’ll get tired of me pestering and finally give in. and I have a secret weapon… our mother.
I slip into the Challenger and start the engine. I’d like to call this car mine, since I’m the only one who uses it anymore, but I can’t. It’s still Teddy’s. A lot of things are still Teddy’s, or at least I see it that way even though I hated him. I miss him, sure. He did a lot for me and Lucas, but it doesn’t change the fact of what he did to Charlie. Shit like that is unforgivable, which is precisely why I want Cat out.
As I drive back to the cabin from the casino, thoughts I try to keep at bay start to invade my mind. Where are the other girls? The other victims? Every woman I’ve seen looked to be enjoying themselves. All of them other than Cat, which makes me think of my mother.
It’s probably fucked-up I associate a woman who makes me feel a certain way with my mother, or maybe that’s the thing. For years I watched my dad hit my mom, rape her, break her down mentally and physically, so now when I see it, I don’t care about anything other than putting a stop to it.
When I saw the picture of Cat in the file, all I could picture was what my dad did to my mom. Sure, my mom would never be classified as mother of the year. She spent more time trying to please our father than actually taking care of us, but I can’t blame her. Regardless she was still our mom, and because of that we loved her. She held a certain spot in our hearts even if she was never much of an actual motherly figure.
When Dad would rape her or beat her, we would take care of her. I can’t help but to think if he weren’t so terrible to her, we would have been brought up better. She would have done normal shit with us like sign us up for sports, come to all of our games, been our biggest fan, or whatever other normal shit parents and kids do. But she didn’t. Because of the bullshit my dad did, he robbed us of an actual mother, turning us into her caretakers instead.
I try and silence my thoughts as I pull into the cabin drive. I need to be clearheaded when I talk to Lucas and try and make him understand why this is so important, and I don’t care if I have to use the love of our dead mother to do it.
