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“Why do you think she did it?”
“What?” Lix glances at me.
“Kill him. I mean, she had somewhere to go. Had the plane tickets and money to get us all somewhere safe. Why would she shoot him?”
He’s quiet for a few seconds. “It probably got to be too much.”
“It doesn’t make sense. She took his abuse for over ten years, and when she was almost there, almost free, she kills him?”
“Maybe she had no choice or felt like she didn’t.”
“But if she had just waited a few more weeks, we could’ve left. She wouldn’t be in jail, and we could’ve stayed together.”
“You didn’t say that shit to her, did you?”
“Fuck no. I’m not trying to make her feel like shit.”
“It wasn’t her fault. She did the best she could. She protected us.”
“I know.”
“I’m sure it took a toll on her what he did to her over and over again. It was painful to watch. I can only imagine what that shit did to her. He was supposed to love her. Cherish her. Protect her. And all he did was hurt her. I fucking hate him, and I’m glad he’s dead,” Lix says, glaring at the road.
“But at what cost?”
“There’s nothing we can do about it now,” he says with a monotone voice.
“Tell that to Brett. This is the second lawyer he’s gotten for her. Sofia comes highly recommended and has a great track record. Who knows, maybe she can get the charges reduced. Fuck. I don’t know, but Brett’s right. Mom shouldn’t be in there. Not for protecting herself or us. We must do whatever it takes to get her out of there.”
“Yes. We do.”
“I just don’t understand why she didn’t use it to pay for a better defense if she had all that money.” I shake my head. “I mean, I get it. We were just kids. She was the adult. Whatever reasons she had or choices she made, they were hers to make.”
“Right. Hell, I was only eight. I didn’t know any better than to do what Mom said.”
“Remember when we went to see her at the jail before we were sent to live with the Perkins? That must’ve been tough for her to tell us to stick together and try to make a good life with our new foster parents, but she did it with grace and strength. I cried the entire time. You were so pissed you wouldn’t even look at her. Brett remained as tough as always. That day is imprinted into my brain, the smell, the sounds, the sadness in everyone’s eyes. I have nightmares about it.”
“Everything is imprinted in your brain.” He chuckles. “You probably remember the first fart you had.”
I burst out laughing. It’s just like him to break up the somberness of the conversation. “In fact, I was four. It scared the hell out of me.”
“Fuck you.” He laughs, gripping the steering wheel. “So what’s going on over at your place with Harper there?”
“Nothing. It’s not like that.”
“Come on.” He draws out the words. “I’m not an idiot. I see the way you look at her.”
I smirk at him. “So how’d the escort go?”
We Daxons are good at evading and redirecting conversations. After what my mom did to me today, I’d say we get it from her.
“Oh hell. It was a first for me.” He grins. “If the abuser was there, it would’ve been the end of my escort career. My shut-off valve might not have worked.”
“Shut-off valve?”
“Ya know when you’re close to killing the fucker, but then you look down and realize it’s not him?”
I peer at my little brother from the corner of my eyes, understanding he’s talking about our father. “He’s not my shut-off valve.”
