“Griffin! My boy it’s you!” She cries out.
I stand there awkwardly as she practically throws herself at me. I’m glad I kept these old clothes on. I definitely want to get rid of her all too familiar scent of mild canned anchovies. She’s a beta, so it’s not overwhelming, but it grates against my nerves.
“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” she sobs, leaning back when she realizes I’m not hugging her back. Her mascara has run down her cheeks a little bit, making her look like a raccoon.
“Did you know what he did, Ma?” I ask, my voice low as I grip her shoulders and firmly move her away from my body.
“I—I told him not to do it!”
I freeze, my eyes falling shut.
Of course.
Of fucking course she knew.
She’s always been complacent. She did nothing when my dad’s gambling addiction started getting out of hand. She did nothing when I came back from my first fight with a broken nose and two black eyes. And I guess, now I know she did nothing when my dad fuckingsoldme to cover his own ass.
Embarrassment sits hot in my chest as Ash shifts behind me, the cheap shoes I bought squeaking slightly with the movement. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought him. Didn’t know how much I’d hate having an audience to this bullshit.
“Do you know where Dad sold me to?” I growl, my voice low.
She reaches up and pats my cheek.
Pats my goddamn fucking cheek.
“Your father didn’t sell you. He just sent you to work on a farm!”
“Seriously?” I let out a bitter laugh, my lips curling back in a snarl. “That’s the kinda bullshit you tell your kid when you’re lying about sending the family dog to a slaughterhouse.”
My mother bursts into tears right there. Like the fucking drama queen she is.
“Don’t—don’t speak to your mother like that! How—how could you! What happened to you?” She sobs.
My hands flex against her arms. I see red. That itch that’s been festering under my skin is threatening to explode. I’m so fucking pissed.
Ash’s hand clamps down on my shoulder again, snapping me out of my haze.
I instantly drop my mom’s shoulders like they’ve burned me.
“Thanks,” I mumble to Ash. He just gives me a single nod, jutting his chin up towards the door. I can practically read his mind. Seems he’s not one for my mom’s theatrics either.
He’s basically itching to get inside.
“Ma, I need you to move aside. Where’s Dad?”
“Griffin, I?—“
“Where’s Dad?” I snap.
“In the den,” She says, her shoulders slumping forward.
“Don’t watch. You won’t like what we’re going to do,” I mutter as I pass her.
She continues sobbing, but unlike when I was younger, I don’t drop everything I’m doing to try and get her to stop.
“Your mom’s a piece of work,” Ash mutters as I lead him through the messy house.
“Yeah, you could say that. Waittill you meet my dad, though.”
