Logan chokes beside me, "She's barely reacted to anything. I'm fucking scared, Anchor."
Anchor whispers back, "She's in shock, Tank, give her time."
***
“Madison, leave the girl alone—it’s Christmas. If she wants to wear her flannels to open presents, then let her!” Granny snaps as my mother stands before me, fists clenched, her expression stern.
She wants to drag me to the basement—I can see it. But with Granny here, she can’t risk her place to live. I’ll pay soon though because every good moment costs.
“Come, Jasmine,” Granny orders, “I want you to open the gift I bought you. I think you will love it.”
Without looking at Mama, I rush to Granny, take her hand, and feel instantly safe while my brother gives me a sad smile.
***
“Her arm was pulled out of the socket,” I hear and I blink, but see only red.
“Is she in a cast?” Logan asks and the voice replies, “Only for a few weeks so it can heal.”
I block them out.
I’m a murderer. I killed my own mother.
***
“What do you mean you’re leaving?!” Granny snaps with fury, and I flinch at the harsh look she’s giving me.
“I-I, I need to leave Granny, I’m so sorry,” I choke as I stand by her door, trying my hardest not to look over my shoulder, trying my hardest not to cup my stomach.
I need to leave before Mama finds me, or before Logan’s mama does as she threatens.
Oh god, I have to leave him, my home, my everything to save him, to save our unborn child.
My body trembles as my eyes tear up at the look of disappointment from the woman I see as a mother as she asks, “And what about Logan? That man loves you!”
My chin wobbles, the urge to ball consuming, but I swallow my emotions and choke, “He’s better off with someone who can handle club life.”
Granny’s eyes blaze over, and I take a step back, knowing she’s about to try and get up and grab me before calling the man, and I whisper, “I love you, Granny,” before I turn and rush away from her room, her shouted, “Jasmine!” following me down the hallway.
She’ll never forgive me. Neither will Logan.
***
I blink as I hear Doc murmur, “I'm a fucking doctor just like you, and even I'm stumped about how to get Jas back with us,” while I feel lips press against my hand.
“Mama…” I whisper, and the hand holding mine tightens.
She’s dead.
“She’s stuck in guilt,” Logan chokes, “she knows she had to do what she did for our daughter, to save her, and now she’s stuck in limbo where she’s kept Ais safe but killed her mother.”
I killed my mother. My blood. It doesn’t matter why—I can’t stop seeing it, feeling it.
“Did you speak to Brady?” Doc asks softly.
Brady, my brother—he lost mom because of me.
He’s going to hate me.
