Chapter 8
Liv
The hospital staffsaid Mom was in stage two of her medical detox, twenty-four to seventy-two hours without a drink, which apparently meant that I was inside the ninth ring of Hell without an exit in sight. She was confused. Her blood pressure skyrocketed, and her limbs shook like she was outside naked in the cold.All my fault, of course.
“Why are you doing this to me?” she whimpered, when her eyes opened long enough to see me.
“What is it that you think I’m doing?” I sat forward in the seat beside her bed. My bottom tingled with pins and needles, and my neck was stiff from looking down at my phone. “Making sure you stay alive?”
“You should go home,” she coughed and gagged on her own saliva. Her eyes darted wildly at the ceiling.
I followed her gaze, fully expecting to see some green sort of goblin hanging from the overhead lights. My eyes squeezed shut, and I tried to clear my thoughts and be more understanding. I took a deep breath in and smiled warmly, “I’ve been cleaning the house, so it’s a bit more livable for you.”
“Don’t touch anything that’s not yours! I got personal shit in there,” she yelled, looking at the top of my head. “Ask them if I could have a cigarette.”
“There’s no smoking in the hospital,” I said, sweetly. The smile on my face started to hurt. “I had to throw away your mattress and bought you a brand new one.”
Her head slumped to the side. “Why? That was a damn good mattress. How stupid are you?”
“It was caked with shit,” I said, still smiling, through tightly clenched teeth.
“Damn dogs musta got in,” she croaked, scratching at her chin and neck. “Can you go get me a drink, Liv? Just a little sip is all. It hurts. You don’t want me hurtin’, do you?”
“Mom,” I warned, smile completely disintegrating. “Stop it,” I snapped.
“Then, you need to get out of here, that’s what you need to do,” she stammered, frantically pressing the nurse’s call button. “My life was fine untilyoucame along!”
Anger ripped through me, “It’s not my fault the asshole didn’t wear a condom.” I dragged my coat off the back of the chair, fumbling with the stupid material.
“Don’t speak like that about him!” she roared.
“Whatever,” I said, yanking my arms through my coat sleeves quickly. I wanted to get the hell away from her as soon as I possibly could. Screw patience and understanding. I’d never gotten any ofthatfrom her.
“You…” she pointed a crooked finger in my direction, stopping me from running from the door.Would she say something to make it better? Please, just let her say something I needed to hear, something loving and encouraging. Something to make me believe this wasn’t all for shit. “You’ve been nothing but a thorn in my side for years. Miss Goody-Goody Fucking Two Shoes.”
“No, I haven’t! I haven’t lived with you in seven years,” I yelled back, my words stuttering and spitting all over. “I’m the one that helps pay your bills. Do you even realize that? Do you realize that I have always been the adult in this relationship? That you don’t get light, unless I pay the electricity bill?” I leaned over her bed, raging, my face in hers. “You don’t get heat if I don’t pay the gas. Who puts money into your account, Mom? Me!”
I stood at the side of that hospital bed, tears welling in my eyes, staring down into the face of a heartless woman, hands clenching. “You were the worst mother in the world. And considering how you treated me and neglected me, I think I am a pretty damn good daughter.”
“Just leave,” she spit, wrinkling up her nose like I was nothing to her. “Every time you pop up, my life has to change. Go away.”
“Fine,” I said quietly, stepping back up and straightening my jacket. “I’ll wait until the handyman fixes the door, then I’ll lock up, and you’ll finally be rid of me.”
I ignored the nurses calling for me as I stepped into the elevator. I was too busy staring down at my shoes, and trying to swallow past the lump lodged in my throat. Mentally, I was so exhausted it took me thirty minutes to remember where I’d parked my car. Once inside, I thudded my head against the steering wheel and fought back the army of tears in my eyes.
I hated her.
I hated her and felt guilty about it.
She was sick. She was weak and sick and maybe if I had stayed and taken better care of her—
I’d be just a younger version.
That thought made me dry heave.
The drive back to her house was a haze of anger and utter disbelief, both feelings jockeying for my attention. By the time I reached her street, I was seeing red and drove my car right over her front lawn, leaving giant skid marks in her grass and muddy snow and slush across the front porch. I slammed the brakes right before I crashed into Brooke’s house. I didn’t think I would’ve even noticed.
I stumbled out of the car, slamming the door hard, and let out an expletive string of such filthy words my mother would have finally been proud. Next door, the garage was open, and Dean stood staring at me, wide-eyed and still.Okay, maybe I would have noticed if I collided with their house, since the nose of my car was pointing right to where he was standing. Sweat dripped off his face, and a heavy bag swung wildly in front of him. His hair was sticking up every which way, and his eyes were drawn and red, but alarmed as hell. He looked just like I felt.
