Or maybe the dad wouldn’t be a complete and total lunatic and put his gun down.
That ref was probably scared shitless right now.
“Oh god,” I said as I backed farther into the shadows.
A door creaked open slowly to my right, and thinking that it was one of my kids, I thanked them for opening the door and all but fell inside, reaching for my phone.
However, when the door closed and the lights turned on, I didn’t see one of my kids there.
I did, however, see my mother pointing a gun at my forehead, and Audrey standing beside her looking smug as hell.
“Wh-what’s going on?” I asked, looking worriedly between the two of them, unable to keep my eyes off the gun. Nor the look in my mother’s eyes.
“What’s going on is you’re going to go recant every single thing you said!” she bellowed, spittle forming at the corner of her mouth.
“I didn’t lie,” I said. “This is one very bold line I will not cross.”
“You will, or you’ll die.”
I shrugged. “Then I’ll die.”
I wouldn’t cross this line.
There was a moral compass inside of me that leaned slightly wrong, but not this wrong.
“It’s sick,” I said to her now, clearly unable to hold my tongue, even in these types of situations. “What you and Dad did.” I looked at Audrey with a disgusted face. “What you all did. You’re all fucking sick. And I want nothing to do with you.”
“It’s not a sickness.” Audrey looked at me. “It’s a calling.”
I threw my hands up in the air. “I don’t want to hear anymore.”
And I didn’t.
I backed toward the door of the room, my intention clear.
They could shoot me.
I didn’t care.
I could die right here, right now, but at least I wouldn’t die knowing that I protected a sick fuck who hurts kids.
The door opened and my mom repositioned the gun in her hand.
I backed out of the door, and I saw her finger tighten on the trigger.
I was going to die.
I was literally going to die.
And I was okay with it.
I’d leave Weaver behind. Bossy, too. My sister.
But at least I would do it with a smile.
I flipped my mother off.
Rage and pain fueled me.
