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Chapter 62

Irolled my eyes, wiped the blood from my nose, and shook my head all at the same time. My mother's timing couldn't have been any worse. Cole and I had just started to get into it when she pulled up.

When she got out of the car, she was already halfway to hysterical. She started asking questions about what we were doing. I would have thought it would have been obvious, but my mother wanted to play stupid.

Cole, damn the man, knew he wasn't going to best me in a physical match, so he went low. Really low. He told her who he was. Where we knew each other from. My mother had gone ghostly white. Then he threw in the fact he'd lived with me and she lost her damn mind. She turned into a wild banshee, shrieking and running as if the hounds of hell were after her.

"Get the fuck out of here!" I shouted at Cole.

He laughed. "Have fun with that."

I followed behind her. "Mom, will you relax?"

"What's wrong with you?" she screamed. "Why would you bring your criminal friends to my house?!"

"Mom, calm down. He's not dangerous." I tried to soothe her frantic state, but it was pointless. She was beyond reason.

"He's dangerous, Eugene! You have no idea what he's capable of. You brought shame to this family. How dare you violate our home with your horrible friends?"

She stomped through the house, her heels clacking against the tile floors. To my shock and horror, she picked up a vase from a table and threw it against the wall, shattering it into a million pieces. That was when Mary Ellen and my father came into the room.

"What the hell is going on?" Dad asked with genuine concern.

"Ask your son!" she shrieked. "Did you know he was here? Did you let him in?"

I watched in disbelief as my family drama spiraled out of control. My father's expression darkened as he took in the scene before him. Mary Ellen stood frozen, her eyes darting between my mother and me, clearly unsure of what to do.

"Dad, I can explain," I started, but he held up a hand to silence me.

"I told you this would happen," my mother went on. "I told you we should have never let him back in here. He brought his criminal friend here. They were probably going to rob us! Maybe they were going to murder us!"

Her words cut deep, slicing through my defenses like a knife, leaving me raw and exposed. Mary Ellen rushed toward me. "Are you okay?" she asked.

My mother was still squealing about something, but all I heard and saw was Mary Ellen. "I'm fine."

"What happened?" she asked.

"I don't want him here," my mother said, her voice rising again.

"He's your son." My father's voice was just as loud and authoritative.

"My son would never do anything so vile to land himself in prison." She scoffed. "That is your doing. You weren't strict enough."

My mother's accusations stung, each word a dagger to the heart. Mary Ellen's presence offered me strength. I reached for her hand and held it tight while I faced off against my mother.

"That's enough, Evelyn!"

For a brief moment, everyone stopped. My father rarely raised his voice.

My mother's eyes narrowed, anger flashing in her expression. "Don't you see what he's trying to do? Look at him. He's dressed like a slob. The tattoos are deplorable. Why would you even want him back here? He's just trying to destroy our family. He's spoiled and entitled. He didn't get what he wanted so he went out of his way to find a way to take us down. You're rewarding him by letting him back in this house."

My father's jaw clenched, his hands forming fists at his sides. "That's enough, Evelyn. He is our son, and he deserves to be treated with respect. I won't have you speak to him this way in our home," he stated firmly, his voice brooking no argument.

My mother's face contorted with rage. She glared at me, the disappointment in her eyes cutting deeper than any insult could. "You have always been a disappointment, Eugene. A failure. Do you know what it does to us, to have a criminal for a son? To know that we raised someone capable of such disgraceful acts?" Her words stung like needles. But I held firm, holding Mary Ellen's hand tighter.

"Evelyn, you've crossed a line," my father growled.

But my mother had a lot more to get off her chest. She had clearly been holding it all in since everything happened. "I find it abhorrent you would bring your whore to my house," Mom sneered. Her gaze went to Mary Ellen. Her lip curled with disgust. "I can't believe you brought her to Murray's party. How dare you bring any of them here? She's just another one in your long line of sluts. You know people talk about your conquests? My friend told me you slept with her daughter. She stopped being my friend because you treated her daughter like crap." Her eyes were burning with a hatred that I'd never seen before.

Mary Ellen seemed to shrink under the weight of my mother's words. Her eyes pleaded with me to say something, anything to defend her. I could see the hurt and betrayal in her eyes.

"You have no right to say anything about Mary Ellen," I said. "She's never done anything to you and she's not a whore."

"You know how sick I am of people asking me about you?" my mother went on. "They all ask about how you're doing. They want to know if you're getting along just fine after the unfortunate business. It makes me sick. They brag about their kids going to Harvard and running for office. They don't want to rub it in my face, but they do. They like that they are better than I am."

"What's wrong with you?" Dad hissed.

"Do you know what I think about when I lay in bed at night?" she asked. Her voice was low and menacing. I didn't want to know what she was thinking. After hearing her nasty spiel, I didn't want to hear another word from her.

She took a step toward me. "I think about what life would have been like if Murray was an only child. I think about how much easier things would have been for me. I could have been happy, free from the burden of your mistakes. I could have had a normal life, one without the constant shame, the whispers, the judgment. But no, I had to have a child like you. And now, I have to deal with the consequences."

My father stepped forward, standing between us. He looked at my mother with a fierce expression. "Evelyn, get out of this house," he commanded. "You've said enough."

"Someone had to say it," my mother sneered. "You coddle him. You accepted his disgusting behavior. That's why he is the way he is."

Her words were sharper than knives. They cut me to the core. I found it difficult to even draw breath.

Mary Ellen dropped my hand and stepped around me. She had been shrinking behind me, but suddenly she was stepping forward.

She strode to my mother. At first, I thought she was going to hit her. I knew I should stop her, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. My mother had insulted Mary Ellen. What she said to me was my problem.

"One day, you are going to wish you never said that to him," Mary Ellen said. Her voice was loud and clear, devoid of any emotion. "When you're all alone and the world around you is quiet and there is no one there to reassure you, you will realize how wrong you were. You're going to realize he deserved so much better from you. You are his mother. He deserves better. The whole family does from where I'm standing. You surround yourself with pretty things, but what do you love? Who loves you? What are you going to do when all of this goes away?"

My mother's eyes widened in shock at Mary Ellen's boldness. She opened her mouth to retaliate, but no words came out. Mary Ellen stood tall, her gaze unwavering as she held my mother's stare. I had never seen her like this before, so strong and fierce.

Mary Ellen's words hung in the air, heavy with an unspoken challenge. My mother seemed taken aback, her usual sharp tongue rendered silent by the unexpected confrontation. I watched in awe as Mary Ellen stood her ground.

"How dare you?" my mother hissed.

"How dare you?" Mary Ellen shot back. "I've never heard anyone speak such filth to anyone, let alone their own child."

"You are no one," my mother hissed. "You don't know him. You're sleeping with the spoiled, rich kid. Don't think I'm so old that I don't know what girls like you chase after like whores in heat. You see the bad boy thing and you want him. How stupid. He's going to toss you to the side as soon as the next one comes along."

Instead of shrinking away, Mary Ellen stood taller. "You have no right to belittle him, no right to judge him. You may be his mother, but at the end of the day, you're just another judgmental person that can't quite cope with her own shortcomings."

My mother sputtered, visibly taken aback. Anger flashed in her eyes and she looked ready to explode. "You vile creature," she spat. "You're perfect for each other."

"Shame on you," Mary Ellen said in a haughty tone. "Just so wrong. Shame on you."

My mother opened her mouth and then snapped it shut. Instead of saying anything else, she simply turned on her heel with her nose held high in the air.

The room was deathly silent after her departure. I stood frozen in place, my body numb and my mind a whirl of thoughts. Mary Ellen's hand found mine once more, squeezing it reassuringly.

"She doesn't define who you are," she said gently.

"I'm sorry," Dad said. "To both of you. I honestly don't know what got into her. She's just not thinking straight right now." He rubbed his hand over his face. "You're my son and you're a good man. And Mary Ellen, you have proved to be better than she could ever comprehend. Those things she said? She didn't mean them."

"Yes, she did," I said quietly. "It's how she's felt for a long time."

Dad shook his head with denial. "She's your mother, son. She loves you." But the conviction in his voice didn't quite reach his eyes.

"I think it's time I left," Mary Ellen said.

I nodded, silently agreeing. It was indeed time to leave. "Can I get a ride?"

"Of course." She smiled. "Thank you again for showing me your library," she said to my dad. "It really is a masterpiece. I hope you get to spend some time in there. You deserve it."

He smiled. "And remember, you have an invitation to visit anytime you'd like."

Mary Ellen laughed. "I'm going to pass. But thank you. You were delightful."

My dad looked at me. "I'm sorry. Truly, I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say."

"You don't need to say anything," I said. "I've heard plenty. I know she doesn't speak for you, but I think you can understand if I choose not to come around anymore."

He nodded, sadness in his eyes. "I understand. I won't push."

"I'll talk to you later," I said. With Mary Ellen's hand in mine, I led her out. I had a feeling it would be the last time I was ever in the house.

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