Chapter 33 #3
The surprise doesn’t last long. My mother’s eyebrows narrow.
“You really are something else,” she charges. “You think because you’ve won two out of your last three races, you’re on top of the world, do ya?” Her put-on posh accent slips, her northern, rougher accent peeking through as her anger grows.
Satisfaction courses through me at seeing the shiny, chic veneer she’s crafted over the decades crack. Not for the first time, I wonder if my father ever saw this side of her. If so, what did he make of it? Did he know the way she spoke to me when he wasn’t around?
Would he have done anything differently if he did know?
“You’re nothing,” she spits at me with more venom than I can ever remember her hurling at me.
“You’re pathetic. It’s not you, it’s the car and everyone knows it!
You’ll never be the winner your father was.
You’re nothing more than the embarrassment I wish I’d aborted when I found out I was pregnant. You—”
She stops abruptly, mouth falling open as she gazes at something over my shoulder.
My hands curl into fists because I know what she’s seeing without needing to turn around.
Or rather who.
“Annalise,” my mother says in a breathless whisper. Her voice is strangled in either embarrassment or shock … or both.
I don’t want to turn to face Annalise, but I need to make sure she’s okay. I’m used to my mother’s insults and put downs, but she isn’t. I’ve seen her around her family enough to know that this isn’t how either of her parents interact with her.
However, Annalise doesn’t give me time to even turn to look at her. In less than two heartbeats she’s in front of me, and does something I never imagined I’d see in this lifetime.
One second my flat is filled with silence. The next a loud pop rents through the air as she slaps the hell out of my mother.
I’m speechless as my mother’s head snaps sideways, her hair whipping across her face, hand coming up to cup her offended cheek.
My mother stumbles backward before she can right herself. When she does, her mouth is open in horror and eyes watery.
“Don’t you ever speak to him like that again,” Annalise says through clenched teeth.
My mother’s surprise lingers another second on her face before her eyebrows narrow. My heartbeat races because I know that look too well. She’s recovered from her surprise and ready to lash out like the venomous snake she is.
Not while there’s breath in my body.
Not against Annalise. Ever.
The precise moment my mother’s free hand comes up to deliver a smack, I catch it in a death grip in my right hand. Without thought, I tighten my hold beyond the point of it being painful.
When she tries to pull her hand away, I tighten it even more.
“Y-You’re h-hurting m—”
“You will never, ever get the opportunity to put your hands on her.” My jaw is locked so tightly it takes effort to squeeze the words out through my teeth.
“For even considering it, I’m cutting you off from every single account I own with your name attached to it.
Get the hell out of my flat and don’t ever return. ”
I throw her hand out of my hold as if throwing a piece of garbage into the bin.
Her mouth opens and closes a few times until fear fills her gaze when I take a step toward her. She feels for the door, twisting the knob.
“You’ll regret this,” she spits out as she scurries out of the door.
I slam and lock it behind her.
Turning to Annalise, I reach for her hand. “Are you hurt?”
My chest constricts painfully when she pulls her hands away from me.
“You do not deserve that,” she seethes, chest heaving.
“Are you hurt?”
She pulls away again. “Yes, I’m hurt, dammit,” she says. “That bitch is lucky I showed restraint. And I know she’s your mom, but damn, that lady is a witch and everything she said is bullshit!”
She’s more forceful when she says it this time.
“And I swear if I ever hear her talking to you like that again … well, I can’t say what I’m going to do because I know I’ll be put on trial for it, and I need to not have confessed to murder before I ever commit it.”
I chuckle because I halfway believe her.
“I’m serious, Max.”
“I know you are, princess.”
She shakes her head. “No, I meant it. You don’t deserve to have her speaking like that to you. You never did. She’s wrong and has always been wrong.” She steps forward, placing her hand against my chest, over my heart.
“I’m sorry you had no one to protect you from that monster when you were younger.”
I can’t speak past the lump that forms in my throat. Words I never knew I needed fill my ears and the heady feeling is almost too much to bear.
I take her into my arms, placing my forehead against hers.
“I meant what I said to her, too,” I say because I’m not ready yet to discuss the little boy version of me that needed to be protected from his mother’s verbal abuse. “She will never put her hands on you. You don’t have to worry about her.”
Annalise snorts. “I’m worried about you.”
Dammit.
More words I needed to hear.
I press my lips to hers. “You know that you’re mine, right?”
“Yeah, I think I do.”