Page 79 of Her Courage

"Because he worked for it," I shot back. "Because he built something worth leaving behind. What did you build, Patrice? Besides debt and destruction?"

Her face flushed red. "I gave you life! I carried you for nine months, I⁠—"

"You abandoned me when I was barely old enough to walk," I interrupted, keeping my voice level despite the rage simmering beneath. "You left me alone with a dying father while you fucked your way through the country club. Don't talk to me about what you gave."

Silence crashed between us. Patrice's chest heaved with angry breaths.

"You were always his favorite," she said finally, her voice turning plaintive. Manipulative. "He never loved me the way he loved you. Always Kaleb this, Kaleb that. Such a smart boy. Such a good son."

"Because I was a good son," I said quietly. "I took care of him when he got sick. I held his hand when he died. Where were you? Shopping? Fucking Rupert in some hotel?"

Her hand lashed out, slapping the glass. "You don't know what it was like! Being married to a drunk who cared more about his business than his wife!"

"Dad drank because of you!" The words exploded from me before I could stop them. "Because you made him miserable. Because no matter what he did, it was never enough. He worked himself into an early grave trying to make you happy, and you repaid him by spreading your legs for anyone with a bigger bank account!"

Marshall's hand settled on my shoulder—grounding, calming.

Patrice's face had gone pale. "How dare you⁠—"

"I dare because it's true." I leaned forward, holding her gaze. "You destroyed him. Piece by piece, year by year. And when he finally couldn't take it anymore, when the alcohol became his only escape, you used that as justification for your affairs."

"He was weak," she hissed.

"He was human." My voice dropped. "And he deserved better than you."

Tears welled in her eyes—crocodile tears, I knew. She'd always been good at those. "Kaleb, please. I'm still your mother. I made mistakes, I know, but⁠—"

"Mistakes?" I laughed without humor. "Mistakes are forgetting someone's birthday. Mistakes are saying the wrong thing at dinner. You didn't make mistakes, Patrice. You made choices. You chose Rupert. You chose debt over responsibility. You chose to threaten Lottie. You chose to kidnap Keeley."

"I was desperate!" Her voice pitched higher, hysteria creeping in. "The debt collectors were threatening to—I had no choice!"

"You always had a choice," Marshall interjected coolly. "You chose to live beyond your means. You chose to ignore Mr. Wulf's repeated warnings about your spending. Every consequence you're facing is a direct result of your own actions."

Patrice's gaze swung to Marshall, her expression turning calculating. "I could tell them things. About all of you. About that perverted club you run. About Kaleb's unnatural relationship⁠—"

"Say one more word about Lottie," I said softly, "and I will dedicate every resource I have to ensuring you never see daylight again."

Something in my tone made her falter. Good. Let her see the steel beneath.

"The DA has more than enough evidence," Marshall added. "Extortion. Assault with a deadly weapon. Kidnapping. Attempted poisoning. Conspiracy. You're looking at twenty-five to life, Mrs. Huntington. Minimum."

The color drained from Patrice's face. "Twenty-five—no. No, that can't be right. I didn't—it wasn't supposed to⁠—"

"What wasn't it supposed to be?" I asked. "You held a gun to Lottie's head. You took my niece from daycare. You tried to poison us at a restaurant. What exactly wasn't it supposed to be, Patrice?"

"I just wanted what was owed to me!" she shrieked, her carefully maintained composure finally shattering completely. "I deserve that money! I'm your mother! You're supposed to take care of me!"

"I did take care of you," I said, exhaustion bleeding into my voice. "For years. I paid off your debts. I funded your lifestyle. I made excuse after excuse for your behavior. But I'm done."

"Kaleb, please⁠—"

"The house is paid off," I continued, speaking over her. "Signed over to you and Rupert. That's your settlement. Your final payment. After that, we're done. No more money. No more contact. You're out of my life. Out of all our lives."

Tears streamed down her face now, her expensive makeup running in dark rivulets. "You can't mean that. I'm your mother. You can't just abandon me!"

"You abandoned me first," I said simply. "When I was fifteen and terrified and watching my father die. You taught me that family is conditional. That love has a price tag. Well, congratulations, Patrice. You finally taught me a lesson that stuck."

Marshall cleared his throat. "Sergeant Davies is waiting to escort us out. Do you have anything else you need to say, Kaleb?"