Wrong For You (Before You Series Book 3)(30)
“I’ll call Taylor. Maybe she’ll help me.”
His hands curled into fists at his sides as his blood pumped wildly through his eardrums. “I will never send you another penny if I hear you contacted Taylor.”
“Why can’t you help me?” Her voice broke on the last word.
His jaw clenched so tightly he felt as if his teeth might shatter. She actually had the nerve to ask why he wouldn't help her. His mother had a seriously twisted perception of her actions. Everything was always somebody else’s fault. “So many reasons, so little time, but let me give you a taste of why I don’t feel compelled to help you with your apology tour. You lied to me about my father for the first ten years of my life. You blamed me for your indiscretions. You were a shitty mother who didn’t care if her kids had food to put their mouths, and I don’t even know the extent of what you did to Taylor, but I have a feeling if I knew I’d be tempted to do you bodily harm despite the fact that you’re a woman and you’re my mother.”
She cradled her face in her hands and instead of feeling pity or sympathy, he felt strangely detached as he watched his mom’s worn face crumble in front of his eyes. “I need to make this right between you and Brad,” she mumbled as she covered her face with her hands.
“Make what right? He wasn’t interested in me when I was a kid or as a teenager and if he’s changed his mind recently; it probably has to do with my band, not me. Leave it alone. I don’t want him in my life.” On his fifteenth birthday, he had taken the bus to Brad’s house to beg for his help. His mom had been gone for a week and he and Taylor didn’t have any food in the house and less than three dollars in change. He used all of it on the bus ride. His wife slammed the door in his face after she not so politely informed him that he wasn’t welcome in their home or their life. All his calls went unanswered and eventually he accepted that Brad didn’t want to be his dad or even his friend.
Tears streamed down his mom’s face unchecked when she dropped her hands from her face. “That was my fault.” The words were so soft he could barely hear them.
“At least you admit that you had some fault in the mess you created. That’s a start.” He waved toward the still open door. “Good luck with everything, Cecilia. Have a nice life.” He didn’t plan to see her ever again. There wasn’t anything to say. She’d made it clear many times that she didn’t want him. He had no intention of letting her crawl back into his life because she needed to complete her twelve-step plan. An apology wouldn’t heal their relationship. There was too much bad blood.
She started walking toward the opened door, only stopping when she came within inches of him. “He couldn’t be part of your life because I got a restraining order against him after your dad died. I felt like he stole my husband from me. I didn’t want him to take you, too.” She forced a piece of yellow paper into his hand. “Here’s his phone number. Call him. He’s always wanted you. That’s why he was at the house that day when you overheard our conversation. He planned to fight for custody, but I couldn’t let him do it. Your dad didn’t know you weren’t his.” She wiped her face and then a smile full of bitterness and anger spread across her face. “Well, not until you questioned him about our conversation, and you know what happened after that.”
With that bomb, she turned and walked out his door. After he shut the door, he slammed his fist into the wall repeatedly until his knuckles were bloodied and swollen. Times like this reminded him why he started playing his drums. It gave him something to hit without inflicting more pain and destruction on everything around him, including himself. No such luck tonight. His drum kit was in his music room in his house in LA.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” He never should have come back to Missoula. He didn’t need this drama in his life. Nothing good ever happened when he came here. His mom always sucked him into her chaos. He needed to leave this town where it belonged—in his past.
His mom came seeking forgiveness, trying to make amends, but all she did was twist the knife she planted in his gut years ago a little harder and a whole lot deeper. Brad always wanted to be part of his life. He didn’t know what to do with that information.
Chapter Twelve
From the swing on her front porch, Violet watched an older woman walk out of Alec’s apartment, around the side of the house, and get in the car and then all hell broke loose.
For twenty minutes, she listened to the destruction in her basement apartment. The next ten minutes she repeatedly told herself to mind her own business while she mentally catalogued all the reasons she shouldn’t interfere. Five minutes later, she ignored everything. Without thinking, Violet grabbed her keychain, which included a spare key to the basement apartment, and she ran down her front steps, directly to the door of his apartment.